- Twas the night before Christmas and all through the Googleplex
- Not a creature was stirring not even a Ficus
- The blogs were hung by the SEO with care,
- In hopes that St Jobs soon would be there.
- The Tweeters were nestled, all snug in their heads,
- While visions of iPads danced in their Macs.
- And AA in her ‘kerchief, and I on my back,
- Had just settled our brands for a long bloggers nap.
- When out on the web there arose such a clatter,
- I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
- Away to the window I flew like a flash,
- Tore open my emails and threw up the RSS Feed.
- Expedia had ejected an airline from view
- And much anger from Dallas was sure to spew
- When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
- But a tiny Crackberry and eight iPhone 4s, how dear.
- With a little old driver, so nerdy but slick
- I knew in a moment it must be St Mark – Geek Chic.
- More rapid than eagles, his Facebookers they came,
- And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by Like! (Calling by name would have taken him too long).
- "Now Kayak! Now, Silverrail! Now, Dennis and Kevin!
- On, Prof Sabena! On, Sabre! on, on Ama and Worldspan!
- To the top of the rankings! to the top of the ball!
- Now Flash away! Blog away! Insult away all!"
- An old newspaper that before the wild Airbus fly,
- When they meet with an obstacle, drops out of the sky.
- So up to the desktop the Nodes they just flew,
- With editions chocked full of news, and St Google there too.
- And then, in a Bing’ing, I heard on my Android
- The prancing and meowing of each little Factoid.
- As I threw out my Nokia, and was turning around,
- Down the Tweetdeck, St Steve came with a bound.
- He was dressed all in black, from his head Turtleneck to his Gucci Loafers,
- And his workers were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
- A bundle of 787 orders he had flung on his back,
- And he looked like a pusher, just opening his apps.
- His eyes how they twinkled, his applets how merry!
- His results were like fake snow, his nose like a cherry!
- His droll little comments was drawn up like a bow (tie),
- And Next Year’s PhocusWright will be like blow (man).
- The stump of Expedia he held tight in his teeth,
- And true TripAdvisor encircled his head like a wreath.
- He had a broad face and a little round belly,
- That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of hospital jelly!
- His friends United and Continental shrank back from Apollo,
- And I cringed when I saw him, not I one to follow!
- A wink of his HomeAway and a twist of his Hospitality,
- Soon gave me to know I had everything to dread.
- He spoke not a wifi, but went straight to his tablet,
- No one remembered Microsoft not one of his habit.
- And throwing away his PC, strapping on Kinnect
- And giving a gesture, up the chimney did he rocket!
- He sprang to his iPhone, to All Readers gave a whistle,
- And away they all flew like the ash plume and aUAV missile.
- But I saw him to publish another edition with might,
- "Happy Tnooz to all, and to all a goodnight!"
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