The Morning of Xmas.

I wake up this morning around 5:13 (am), nothing is astir, I simply need to pee.
As I walked into my bathroom, what did I see?
Melted candle wax ensconsed in my shower bed.
But instead of cleaning it up I got a beer instead.
It was neither the time nor the hour.
Yet I pressed the button to give my PS3 power.
EA has awarded the game with an Xmas day bonus team.
Worry not as the "Santa Slammers" will soon be reamed.
No, the poem doesn't get disgusting here.
It simply gets slightly queer.
This isn't where I rhyme with reindeer.
This is however where I bust a steer.
Referring to the art of misdirection, not a bovine with a large midsection (despite the fact I did-so twice, technically).
I am no magician or statistician
But I'll try to alleviate your superstitions.
Santa's slammers got jammed up hard and as usual quit in the end.
In my case this always precludes a message I'll send.
In the holiday spirit I modified it slightly,
Opposed to what I send nightly,
Jesus hates you, how does it feel do get wrecked?
Incase you couldn't tell, you just received a Reality Check.
Merry Xmas - Fuck Happy Holidays.