T-Minus 1 hour and 23 minutes until Georgetown Day 2014 is upon us and most Hoyas are getting to bed early to prepare for tomorrow’s festivities. We stumbled upon this ingenious status by Ben Maher (SFS ’15) on Facebook and wanted to share its brilliance with the campus. Enjoy!

‘Twas the Night Before Georgetown Day

‘Twas the night before Georgetown Day, when all thro’ Lau 2,
Not a student in sight, they had no work to do;
Hoyas were nestled all snug in their bunks,
Eager to wake up at dawn and get drunk.

Too anxious to sleep, their hearts filled with wonder,
Which among them would be first to chunder;
Salmon shorts hung in the closet with care
In hopes that the keg-and-eggs would soon be there.

And I settled in for some light springtime snoozin’
To catch a little rest ‘fore a long day of boozin’
When on Healy Lawn there arose such a clatter,
I got up and looked to see what was the matter.

Out the window I saw through a blanket of fog
A priest with a mullet, at his feet a bulldog;
I dashed out the door, I couldn’t be quicker,
‘Twas ol’ Johnny Carroll, arms laden with liquor!

The bottles, they clinked and the beer cans, they clanked;
His stumbling gait revealed how much he’d drank;
He put on a bro tank and let out a yell
To be heard from Leo’s to the halls of Darnall.

“Now, André! Now, Franzia! Now, Jack and Jim Beam!
On, Natty! On, Keystone! On, Burnett’s Whipped Cream!”
From the Village A rooftops to White-Gravenor Hall,
Now, drink away! Drink away! Drink away all!”

Then he called me over with a chuckle so hearty
And conjured a vision of the upcoming darty:
There were girls in sundresses splayed out on the lawn;
Freshmen, hunched over toilets, already were gone.

Healy’s grand clock hands bathed in golden rays
While bros stumbled ‘neath in a deep drunken haze;
In ICC classrooms, to professors’ chagrin,
Students sipped out of coffee cups filled all with gin.

And Henle’s ol’ courtyard, so dark and so ratty,
Shone with the luster of crushed cans of Natty;
From up in his tower Jack DeGoia watched
All his happy Hoyas, so free and debauched.

And I knew, feelin’ buzzed in the fair April weather,
How liquor and sun brings the whole school together.
But then Jack the Bulldog gave out a quick bark,
And this glorious vision soon faded to dark.

Johnny Carroll bent down and rubbed the dog’s head,
And before they both vanished, a few words he said;
Grumblin’ and mumblin’ was all that I heard;
He was pretty wasted, his speech was all slurred;
But as to his meaning, well, I have a hunch:
“Happy Georgetown Day to all, and to all a drunk brunch!”

And this version from 2012 by Adam Ramadan (SFS ’14):

‘Twas the night before Georgetown Day, no more a line at Towne
Not a creature was stirring, well maybe a rat at house Brown.
The fridges were stocked, Natty Light all the way,
In hopes that the administration would let us all play.

The students were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of inflatables bounced in their heads.
The security guard in his outfit, and I with my books,
Crossing each other, cold as I shook.

When out on Healy Lawn arose such a clatter,
I sprang from Lauinger to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Peered out of Lau 4 and damn near almost crashed.

Healy Clock on the breast of the new-fallen lawn,
Gave beauty of Georgetown Day past to objects thereon.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a wonderful keg and a beer garden, don’t fear!

With a little old tap, so sturdy and quick,
I knew in a moment this was very ironic.
More rapid than I could have come up with a dream,
I saw in my eyes that silver keg gleam!

Now Natty! now, Keystone! now, Blue Moon and Hatter!
On Shock Top! on Budweiser, don’t continue to clamor!
To the top of Village A! To the top of LXR!
Now Dash away! Dash away! Dash away far!

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the rooftops the Georgetown students flew,
With fridges full of beer, and Jack Junior too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard a seesaw,
The prancing and clawing of many a paw.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Jack the Bulldog came with a sound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished from flip-cup and Beirut!
A bundle of goods he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a barista, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! His wrinkles how merry!
His paws were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His slobbery little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the hairs of his chin were painted like day-glow.

The body of the orange he held tight in his teeth,
And the orange juice it spilled surrounded him beneath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he barked, because he knew Syracuse was jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old bulldog,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of his drool, dawg.
A wink of his eye and a dip of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but looked rather honest,
Then muttered “Georgetown Day is what you make, so get on it!”
And laying his paw aside the dark night,
And giving a nod, his golf-kart did ignite!

He sprang to his cart, to Jack’s Crew he gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Georgetown Day to all, and to all a good-night!”