Checked Out In Jersey

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a Kardashian was stirring, so I ironed my blouse; The Louie Vuitton stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that the ex-wife's money soon would be there; No children were nestled all snug in their beds; While visions of my new bum danced in my head; And mamma, who used to be pappa, in her 'flannels, and I in my teddy, Had just heard an anthem by the great Helen Reddy, When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see it was #blacklivesmatter. Then yay through the window the police lights did flash, Their gunshots did stutter and lead balls did smash. The dead on the breast of the artificial snow, Gave a luster of ink stains to objects below, When what to my wondering eyes did appear, But a bunch of trans girls dressed as tiny rein-deer, With chocolate from Godiva so creamy and think, I knew in a moment they're here for this chick. More vapid than valley girls these trans-whores they came, And I whistled