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Tuesday, December 31, 2013

My Top 40 Favorite Tweets in 2013.

                                        Image Credit

Yesterday I sent out this tweet...


If I see ONE MORE list of new year's resolutions or round up of the year I'm going to STRANGLE myself with the cord of my laptop re-charger.

I'm sick to the eyeballs of opening every newspaper, magazine, web page, post and seeing the same thing over and over.

Therefore, my last post for the year will not be a boring list of how I want to change myself in 2014.

I love Twitter... it's so global. I have some hilarious Tweeps and have selected my favourite funnies for 2014.


Just Bill ‏@WilliamAder19 Dec

Someone is going to receive a gift from me that has scissors and a roll of Scotch tape under the wrapping. I'm gonna need those back.

clenickie ‏@clenickie26 Dec

PHEW!!! I just got a bill in the mail that said... FINAL NOTICE! What a relief.

Larry & Moon Dog ‏@DukEB5125 May

I haven't spoken to my wife in years. I didn't want to interrupt her,

Dmvm ‏@Dmvm197719 Dec

Q) What's the difference between an office Xmas party and a homicide crime scene? A) About 7 vodkas.

Ian T Hall ‏@IanTHall22 Dec

I forget, on which side of my dinner plate am I supposed to set my phone?

Grant Tanaka ‏@GrantTanaka22 Dec

"These keep me from swearing, these keep me from killing you, these help me ovulate & also keep me from killing you" -wife going thru pills

Michael Clarke ‏@Mr_Mike_Clarke22 Dec

Every time I wash a spoon...

Molly ‏@HappyHijabbi18 Dec

Ah, maybe, I don't know - first rule of might club

Crack You Whip ‏@CrackYouWhip7 Dec

1. LOL 2. Haha 3. K Translation: Stop texting me!

Lynyrd ‏@lynyrdsbackyard14 Dec

Santa struggled to explain to Mrs. Claus why his browsing history was riddled with links to Twitter pages of the girls on the naughty list.

Wellbelove ‏@wellbelove12 Dec

Think they may need a rebrand for English speaking countries 

moody monday ‏@mdob1118 Apr

I think people who use "go fly a kite" as an insult don't really understand kites or insults.

Grant Tanaka ‏@GrantTanaka1 Dec

Put up Xmas lights today & only got electrocuted, like, TW-TW-TW-twice

Will Rodgers ‏@WilliamRodgers26 Nov

A morning after pill... But for Drunk texts...

palokin ‏@palokin15 Jan

If you say "bless you" after your cat sneezes, you might just die alone.

GrossHopper ‏@AGStr8upNinja19 Nov

How old people make use of canes: 10% walking. 90% shaking & waving at whippersnappers.

Simtec ‏@splegge18 Nov

My German flat mate wants to play hide the sausage.. What's the wurst that can happen!?

Paper Wash© ‏@PaperWash21 Jul

Relationship status: ironing shirt with George Foreman grill.

Terry F ‏@daemonic315 Nov

Vegans think they will live longer than us, but they don't realize they are 100 times more likely to be murdered mid conversation.

Will Ferrell ‏@imnoWillFerrell17 Nov

Voldemort's face is flat because he ran into the wrong wall at the train station.

JJ Anderson ‏@TPJ1316 Nov

It's weird how everybody looks so skinny in their bit strips.

Michelle Weaver ‏@pinkypoinker14 Nov

I just watched my cat being carried away by a mosquito... #livinginthetropics

Accidental Chair ‏@bvb112313 Nov

Ever looked close into your cat's eyes? Beyond their usual IDGAF attitude is definitely a look that says "I will eat you if I have a chance"

Matthew Cocker ‏@BrandyTartlet4 Nov

"There was nobody in when we tried to deliver, so we left your parcels hidden under the door mat."

Not so Awesome Alex ‏@Alex_LaVallee22 Mar

A telemarketer just called my cell phone. I pretended to be a phone sex operator. HE didn't hang up. ...things got awkward.

JT ‏@JT_IV_30 May

back pain is youth leaving the body

Super Girl ‏@AphroditeAfter511 Mar

I've been on a diet for 2 weeks and all I've lost is 14 days

Sad Peruna ‏@SadPeruna19 Oct

If you see a bunch of tough looking guys walking down the street, don't run and jump into their arms. They'll almost NEVER catch you.

AmishPornStar ‏@Troman887 Sep

I hope that when the zombies finally do come, they're all dyslexic and they only go after Brians.

Tony ‏@Tmoney6811 Oct

Anything you can do, I can do bitter.

Heath ‏@DaHess14 Apr

I'm not sure where my dad learned to whisper but I'm guessing inside a helicopter surrounded by fucking chainsaws.

June ‏@junejuly1221 Sep

Since we can't seem to kill this fly, I'm turning him into a pet and calling him Jeff

Dirt McTurd ‏@DirtMcTurd15 Sep

A lot of people keep telling me my grammar stinks, what the fuck did you expect, she's 82 years old!

Accidental Chair ‏@bvb112313 Oct

My roommate said everyone on twitter was a nerd and that I was better than this. Related: I need help getting rid of a body.

Gorilla Nipples ‏@CoopSoSarc6 Feb

Daughter yells "I love bananas, the bigger the better". Wife and I laugh hysterically, Then I die a little inside.

Dan ‏@GodDammitDan9 Aug

Bank: "We're federally insured up to $250k, so anything over that wou--" Me: "That certainly won't be a problem." *deposits $10*

Britts Nasty ‏@TheNastiestB12 Oct

LIFE HACK: if you put tin foil in your microwave it will make lightning. Unrelated: my microwave is on fire

Chris Watts ‏@BrutusWatts27 Oct

The officer said, "You drinking?" I said, "You buying?" then we both laughed and laughed... And now I need bail money, again!! Little help!

Colin Smith ‏@countcol24 Oct

Annoying idea! Wear an apple t-shirt and tell everybody that you are better than them!

Steve Olivas ‏@steveolivas21 Jun

If this doughnut and chocolate milk are going to take years off my life, could I have them remove 1978-1982?

America's Henchman ‏@TheDailySchmuck16 Sep

Twitter: where people not doing stuff can talk about people doing stuff.

Monday, December 30, 2013

A Spooky Tale: Pinky Visits a Ghost Town

                                                              Image Credit

The days between Christmas and New Year are strange

It’s almost like being in a kind of dead zone… accompanied by an eerie feeling of knowing we’re living the final days before the new beginnings of the next year.

“We need to do something,” declared Scotto yesterday, the sweat dripping down his forehead in the 35 degree oven we call the lounge room. “Let’s go on a day trip somewhere.”

Scotto loves to drive his new “Batmobile” on the highway, so I scanned my tiny brain for somewhere we could pay a visit to, in our parched hinterland.

“We could go to Ravenswood,” I offered. “It’s about an hour drive away.”

“What’s there?” queried Scotto, swatting away a slow, heat-stricken fly.

“Nothing,” I replied.

“Let’s go then! It might be cooler there. It might even be raining.”

Poor Melbourne-born Scotto hates the heat and lack of rain here in North Queensland.

“Ravenswood’s a ghost town,” I lectured Scotto in the car on the way. “It used to have a population of about 4500 back in the 1890s because of the gold rush but now only a couple of hundred people live there. I’ve heard there’s even a haunted pub!

Just don’t blink or you actually will miss it,” I warned as we approached the tiny hamlet.

Our first stop was the historic cemetery. 

Ravenswood Cemetery 

Our shoes crackled across the brittle, dried out grass and we pondered over the sad gravestones of little children and young women who’d probably died in childbirth back in the 1800s. 

“Why are there so many little kids’ graves?” asked Scotto.

“Diphtheria, Typhoid… they didn’t have antibiotics back then,” I answered feeling a little melancholy.

Grave at Ravenswood Cemetery

We both suddenly jumped in fright as the shutter on Scotto’s camera began automatically firing over and over.

“That’s weird…” he stared at me with a pale face. “Why’s it doing that?”

"Maybe something wants to be seen?" I answered with false bravado.

                                What the F-f-f-f-f!

The temperature when we climbed back in the car was close to 37 degrees and there was not a cloud in the sky.

We had a quick look around the museum.

“Where are you two from?” probed the elderly woman at the door when she overheard Pinky jokingly whinging about the extortionate two dollar admission fee.

“I’ve lived here all my life,” she continued with a toothless sneer. “People are shocked when I tell them that... I can think of worse places to live.”

“I can’t…” I thought, as I feigned interest in the three glass cabinets containing boring old rubbish from the nineteenth century.

“Don’t forget to have a look at the old jail out the back,” the woman called out when she noticed Scotto and Pinky attempting to slither out the door unnoticed.

Ravenswood Museum
                     I think they must have forgotten about someone...

“Time for a beer!” announced Scotto. 

Railway Hotel Ravenswood

The Railway Hotel (circa 1890 and one of only two remaining hotels) was straight across the road and as we walked in to the establishment the local bar flies stared at our city slicker attire with barely concealed derision (no they didn’t... but it would have been funny if they had).

We ordered counter lunches whilst three poodles, a couple of tiny terrier pups and a biggish mongrel had a full on barney around the bar, barking, growling and nipping each other.

The beer was great; ice cold and refreshing, the fish and chips delicious.

Pub Lunch

“We can go and have a look at the old mine after lunch,” I suggested.

Open cut mine Ravenswood

We did. There’s nothing spookier than an abandoned mine. The hike up to the lookout had a steep ascent with a 10 degree gradient, so in the searing heat our thirst had re-established itself and it was time for another beer.

“I think this is the haunted one,” I informed Scotto as we pulled up outside the Imperial Hotel.

A table of locals out the front of the pub, unashamedly gawked at the Batmobile as Scotto (showing off) did a powerslide in the gravel as we pulled up.

“They’re staring at your car!” I commented. “Probably never seen a car like this in these here parts.”

Scotto was thrilled at the attention and disembarked from the Batmobile feeling like a superstar… right up until he fell in a hole and nearly went ass up.

The entire table erupted in loud guffaws and watched us hobbling across the road in embarrassment.

“Have a nice trip?” chortled the matriarch of the group.

“Yeah, I’ll be back in the fall,” muttered a sheepish Scotto.

Bar in Ravenswood Hotel

Behind the bar stood a tiny, attractive blonde girl; she was clearly a backpacker by the sound of her Scandinavian accent. 

She stood out like a dog’s hind leg (sic) against the back drop, with her golden hair and white smile. "How the hell did a backpacker have the misfortune of winding up here?" I wondered.

We drank our beers and Scotto insisted, quite passionately, on returning the empty glasses back to the bar. 

I suspected it was more to do with the stunning blonde barmaid inside, rather than his impeccably good manners.

“Let me take them back…” I suggested.

“No. I’ll do it,” he replied (quite firmly).

“Nice car, yah!” I heard the Nordic goddess trill to my husband, who stood with an irritatingly silly grin on his face.

We left the pub and decided we’d seen enough for one day even if we hadn’t espied any ghosts as such.

“Did you have a nice day?” asked the shop keeper at the antiquated post office/store we called into to get water for the journey back.

“Yes thanks,” Pinky mused. “We saw the museum and the mine, had a lovely lunch at the Railway Hotel and a final roadie at the Imperial just before.”

The shop keeper stared at me, his pupils dilating slightly, his face blanching.

“The Imperial Hotel has been boarded up for the last thirty years,” he choked, “ever since that young, Swedish backpacker was murdered by a jealous miner’s wife.”

                                     I swear every hair on Scotto's head stood on end!

Ravenswood goat

N.B: Some of this story may have been made up… a bit.

Sunday, December 29, 2013

Boxing Day with Basmati on the Side

“Come over for a feed of curry on Boxing Day!” my friend Dolly, texted me before Christmas. 

I love going to Dolly’s place with its fully air-conditioned confines, tasteful décor and guaranteed good company. Add the fact she’s an exceptional cook and it goes to say I was greatly looking forward to the outing.

Apart from Dolly gifting me with another snow globe from her recent trip to Italy, there was another surprise in store for Pinky.

This lot!

                       Michael, Madeleine, Pinky, Harriet, Ebony.

Oh, to be young, beautiful, talented and with the entire world and its opportunities spread out before you.

Madeleine and Harriet (Dolly’s daughters) were introduced in North Queensland's Got Talent.

Michael, who was one of Pinky’s favourite speech and drama students many years ago, is now a lawyer in the big smoke but still manages to perform when he has time. 

Ebony was in our theatre company’s first production and has been over in England treading the boards and wowing audiences with her exceptional singing voice.

I, Pinky, claim full credit for all of their success.

Jokes… but it was wonderful to hear how these brilliant kids have been going in their lives and rehashing fond memories with them.

Naturally, they had to pose “Eisteddfod” style for me.

A big bonus for Pinky was the fact that the girls had their hotty boyfriends with them!


Madeleine and her (Actor/Writer/Director/Producer) fiancé, Dan Mulvihill (who was on Home and Away girls!!!) have created Mad Dan Productions which specialises in film, TV and web based entertainment concepts.

Here’s the Facebook Link if you want to check it out! It’s very funny, clever and innovative… just up my alley.

Now, Scotto may have had to drag me out of the gathering after I’d imbibed in one too many Chardys and kept telling Dan how spunky he was and how if I was thirty years younger Madeleine would have to watch out… I don’t quite remember.

But… it was an excellent afternoon.

               "Can you get this woman away from me Madeleine...please?"

“How did you manage to make all these fantastic curries after you did Christmas lunch yesterday?” I asked the hostess with the mostest Dolly, in awestruck admiration.

“Rajah’s Restaurant,” she whispered confidentially.

Here is a link to Madeleine's 2013 Showreel (Dan's in it too girls!)

And here is a link to information on Harriet's show premiering in 2014... here.

Saturday, December 28, 2013

Jean-Claude Van Damme's Guide to Christmas Day

Who was I kidding when I said I wouldn’t write a post between December 22 and December 31? Those days are the best days of the year for Poinker shenanigans. 

I was going to save it all up and condense it all into one post but I don’t think I can… 

        Scotto bought me a personalised notebook to write down all my observations in!

Consequently, today’s post will regale you with the uncouth and hugely censored snippets of the Poinker’s Christmas Day. 

Back when the kids were little they would awaken at the crack of dawn and pester us to get out of bed so they could rip into the plethora of shiny presents under the tree. Nowadays we’re woken up by Pablo the Chihuahua’s tongue spiralling up our nostrils at six am. After dragging ourselves up and downing a couple of coffees we're obliged to ‘let the dogs out’ onto the slumbering teenagers ensconced snuggly amongst doonas in their Arctic-temperature bedrooms. 

It was eleven o’clock in the morning by the time everyone was seated, sipping champagne and orange juice and eating chocolate and stone fruit. 

Instead of the mysteriously wrapped gifts of yesteryear, each Poinker child (including Hagar’s girlfriend, Meggles) was handed an envelope containing a couple of gift vouchers and cold, hard cash. 

Before you judge me I must point out I put A LOT of effort into selecting appropriate gift vouchers. Remember back in September when all five of my kids forgot it was my birthday and gave me NOTHING? Well this time they managed to make some sort of effort. 

Except for one… the ‘One’ with the most money in his stash. 

“Here Mum…” the ‘One’ carelessly grabbed a fifty dollar note out of his wallet. “Do you have change for a fifty? I’d like to give you forty dollars to put in your online betting account.” 

Look... I do have an online betting account but I've probably used it twice in the last two years and besides… I didn’t feel money for my ‘betting account’ was a very thoughtful gift to offer in the true spirit of Christmas. 

“Put your money away!” I snapped at the ‘One’. Now I know why the ‘One’ has such a large bank account. 

We were all packed up to head over to my sister Sam’s for Christmas lunch. Sam lives a fifteen minute walk away from us but it was arranged that Jonah (who doesn’t really drink much) would drive the ‘One’s’ car over with the esky and take us as well. 

Unfortunately, the ‘One’ decided to take off in the car by himself and leave the rest of us stranded by the side of the road mandating a hot, muggy walk over to Sam’s in the midday, North Queensland sun. 

At this point Pinky was beginning to feel slightly pissed off with the ‘One’ even though it WAS Christmas day and you’re not really supposed to have those strong, murderous emotions gurgling away inside. 

The kids began walking ahead and by the time Scotto and I huffed and puffed our way through Sam’s front door, the ‘One’ had already stirred up a vitriolic argument with eighteen year old Padraic by taunting him about his recent haircut. 

The ‘One’ continued his merciless carry on until Padraic, feisty character that he is, began to threaten the ‘One’ with a belt in the head. 

Twenty year old Hagar, for some inexplicable reason, unwisely put his two bits worth in. 

“Do you want a rassel?” goaded Padraic. “C’mon Hagar… I bet I could beat you in a rassel.” 

“Calm down, Padraic!” warned a nervous Pinky, “And don’t you mean a wrestle?” 

“Yeah… a rassel!” 

This aggressive badgering went on for another miserable ten minutes until finally Hagar, steam emanating out of his earholes, stood up and nobly accepted the challenge. 

The Jean-Claude Van Damme action moved over to the grass out of view and while Lulu and Jonah went to document the ‘rassling match’ on their iPhones, Pinky sat gripping her wine glass, eyes clenched shut and waiting for the police and ambulance sirens to arrive screaming down the street. 

The boys both returned to the table panting, sweaty and grass stained after only a few minutes. 

Padraic sported a nasty grass burn on the side of his face but he’d calmed down having been put in his place by a body plant by the much larger Hagar. 

But still the relentless ‘One’ continued to annoy most of the gathering with his misappropriated sense of humour. 

“When’s a gnome not a gnome?” he read boisterously from a Christmas Cracker joke. 

“When is a gnome not a gnome?” echoed Greigor’s (family friend) elderly mother, visibly relieved the violent interlude had settled down. 

“When it’s looking up a pixie’s skirt and it’s a goblin,” chortled the ‘One’. 

Call me a prude but this was definitely NOT the joke from the cracker. Thankfully Greigor’s frail little mum didn’t get it. 

Pinky took the ‘One’ aside several times during the afternoon and delivered a verbal thrashing but ‘twas to no avail. 

Mercifully, he eventually crashed out in one of the bedrooms at Sam’s early in the piece so the party took on a more ‘joyful’ tone. 

I’ve never quite understood why emergency rooms cite the highest rate of domestic violence and injuries on Christmas Day more than on any other day. 

I do now and all I can say is... this year there were thankfully no emergency visits from the Poinkers. 

Next year, Scotto and I will be going on a cruise and leaving them all at home. 

       (Taken before the 'rassel') Ma Kelly and the Poinker Gang.

Tomorrow’s post will tell of our foray over to the classy side of town to visit my friend, Dolly and her family on Boxing Day.

Saturday, December 21, 2013

"God" on Facebook

There's a guy (at least I assume it's a guy) who has a Facebook page called GOD. It's not blasphemous at all, just a bit of fun.

Occasionally he asks his followers to ask him questions... any question they like. I sifted through the 1500 or so questions and found a few you may find amusing.

Dear God,

Where is all my bacon? I had 5 packs in the fridge yesterday, and now there is only one.

Do you do Secret Santa in heaven?

Adam and Eve - did they have belly buttons? And if they are made in Your image - do you have a belly button?

Can you tell me which of my cats ate my snore blocker ear plugs? Or will I have to wait?

Do you have feet?

Boxers or briefs?

When will a next dragonball series start? And will it be as good as dragonball z?

Why did you allow the red - wedding to happen on game of thrones?! WHYYYY?!?

Do you prefer star wars or star trek?

Is there wifi in hell and if so would you happen to have the password?

Is it true that "you can't take it with you when you go" and is this in any way related to the fact that "if you don't use it, you lose it"?

If you could keep just one God power, what would it be and why?

Who played your favorite Jesus in a film?

God, What did the fox say?

If rain is your tears, what about snow and hail?

God, why did you let dinosaurs miss the Ark? And while we are on the subject, why did creepy crawly things like black widow spiders and fire ants, make that trip?

I invited friends to go out for dinner last week, I got very annoyed, cause my friends wanted to change my plans, the venue, the day and time. Do you feel the same way when people pray to change your Divine Plan?

God. If I swallow gum does it actually stay with me for 7 years?

God: How do I know if my pants tight "hot" or just too tight? I have a smoken rear, but, to be honest a bit of a muffin top too.

God, when you see mortals doing something truly evil or stupid why not strike them with a lighting bolt? Not enough to kill them mind you, but just painful enough as if to say "I'm watching you".

Im thinking of a number 1-10 what Is it?

Could "Under the Dome" become real one day? Who would you like to see end up behind the dome, and would you interfere?

Why did you put the testicles on the outside? Is it some cruel joke?

Why do I have to shit right after I get out of the shower?

Why was the ending to Dexter so disappointing?

Thursday, December 19, 2013

How I'm Going to Make over a Million Bajillion Bucks

I’m sure you’ve heard of the Elf on a Shelf.

The Christmas tradition was launched in 2005 and rapidly snowballed into a multi-million dollar franchise: year-over-year growth has averaged 149%, sales hit $16.6 million in 2011 and I can’t find figures beyond that but I’d bet a Christmas bauble they’re still doing quite well.

In 2005 my youngest, Lulu, was nine years old and far too worldly to accept the whimsical tale of a stuffed goblin who was sent as a spy from Santa to deem whether or not she’d been naughty or nice… so I gave the purchase of said festive mole a big miss.

Millions of other mothers out there didn’t apparently.

I, however, have had a brilliant idea!

Instead of a mere Elf on the Shelf, I’ve created a variety of characters more suitable for the older kids.

One complaint from mothers worldwide is that E.O.T.S. has to be moved around the house each night after the kids have gone nighty-nights. Unfortunately, just as in the case of the tooth fairy, after one too many spicy, mulled wines Mums were forgetting to move the little critters leading to suspicion and doubt as to the Elf’s credibility.

My specially designed Santa secret agents come in sets of twelve so won’t have to be moved much at all. Most areas of the house will be covered and not only that, will contain in-built camcorders! 

You'll have black and white evidence about who's nicking the alcohol, coming home late or doing their chores around the house!
You won’t miss a THING your teenagers get up to!

Let me introduce you to… 

Pinky’s Christmas Snoops

 Bear on the Stair: for when they try to sneak in late.

           Bunny on the Dunny (downstairs toilet)

Meerkat on the Beer Mat: protecting the liquor cabinet!

       Ernie on the Gerni: dropping hints about chores.

                        Lion near the Iron: self explanatory

                     Cow near the Puppy Chow

                 Dog on the Bog: upstairs toilet

                        Feline on the Clothes Line

                        Giraffe on the Path

                        Unicorn on the Front Lawn

                      Swine with the Wine

                    Goblin in the Rubbish Bin

So what do you think? Am I on to something?

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

The Totally Awesome Christmas Show

                                           Todd in the centre of his brilliant cast!

Way back in January I wrote a story about a childrens’ theatre group I once worked with here in... this silly story

I resigned from the group when I began working full time as a primary teacher but the reigns were adeptly assumed by one of our younger directors, Todd.

Well that was nine years ago and since then Todd has taken the group to a dizzying new level.

Where once the dramatic performances were based on the extremely cheesy and over-the-top style embraced by the likes of, ooh… let’s say Benny Hill, the group now exudes a distinctly contemporised, Tim Burtonesque flavour under the creative, original talents of hipster Todd and his crew (is ‘hipster’ a compliment? I hope so. See how un-withit I am).

Today, Scotto and I took my nephew Heinrich and Petal to see Props Youth Theatre’s “Totally Awesome Christmas Show” and I can assure you, it was… well totally awesome. From ages five years to about seventeen, the accomplished young actors were focussed, energetic, vibrant and entertaining.

The first half of the show delivered an alternative version of the Wizard of Oz and the second half, a lively, slightly bizarre depiction of Alice in Wonderland complete with the funniest Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee I’ve seen, EVER!

The only annoyance about the day was the stupid, self-destructive parking laws the city council has instigated in the city. You can only pay for two hours at a time but then you can’t simply go and top up the meter. Oh no… you have to move the bloody car because the vulture-like parking officers put chalk marks on the tyres.

For years our incompetent council has been desperately trying to coerce people back into a business-depleted and deserted city centre.

I never bother shopping in the city because firstly, there are no shops, and secondly, there is no free parking. I would venture into the tumbleweed infested, malignantly, hot city centre, however, to go to the movies or watch a theatre production but not if I’m going to be forced to hike it back to my car at interval (or half way through a movie) to move my damn car.

Despite this idiocy, it was a trip down memory lane watching what must be the twelfth installment of the 

Totally Awesome Christmas Show.

“I wish I could be in something like that!” was Petal’s review.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever really listened to the story of the Wizard of Oz,” was Heinrich’s stoic reaction.

I’m proud of you, Todd!

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

'Twas the Night Before Christmas at Pinky's Place

                                                                  Bad Pinky

In honour of my eighteen year old son Padraic, I’ve rewritten the famous, well-loved poem:

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas.

‘Twas the night
Before Christmas
While inside the house
Little Pinky was stirring
Some tea for her spouse

The stockings were hung
For her doggies, with care

In hopes
In the morning
Some bones would be there

Teenagers were nestled
All safe in their beds
Visions of juggling apes
Danced in their heads

Pinky in her nightie
With the torn shoulder strap
Settled on the couch
One more present to wrap

When out on the lawn
There arose such a clatter
She sprang from the couch
To see what was the matter

Away to the window
She flew like a bee
To peer through the window
And what did she see?

The moon on the breast
Of the bitumen road
Reflected the
Of twenty dead toads

When what
With her wandering eyes
She did spy
But a beat-up Holden
With eight youths piled inside

With a scruffy young driver
Screeching down the street
Pinky knew in a moment
‘Twas son Padraic, in the seat

As the burnt rubber settled
The youths toppled out
And they whistled
And shouted
And milled
All about

“Hey Gazza!
Hey Dazza!
Hey Bazza!

Cried Pinky.

“Hey Grommit!
Hey Stupid!
Hey Poiter!
Hey Stinky!

You’re waking
The neighbours
With that noisy
Car horn
Now dash-away
boys, for tomorrow’s
Christmas morn!”

And then
In a twinkling
They stared at the roof
At the revving
And stereo
Playing ‘Doof, doof…’

'Twas St Nick on the roof!
Doing donuts around

In a shiny
V8 hot rod
With full surround sound

He was dressed
Like a rev-head
From his head
To his thongs
With a singlet
And board shorts
Tattoos and a bong.

A bundle of letters
He had packed
On his back
One each for
The boys with a

His eyes
How they twinkled
Though red and bloodshot

A result
Of imbibing
More often than not

The stump of his joint
He held tight
In bad teeth
And the smoke
Encircled his head
Like a wreath

He said not a word
All stern
Without noise
And handed
Out the letters
Then said
To the boys

“Whatever you do
Don’t just follow others
Be your own person
And look after
Your mothers.”

He jumped
In his car
Music blaring
Tyres screaming

And the boys
Stared aghast
Their faces
All beaming

Pinky heard them exclaim
In the growing morn light

“It’s Christmas tomorrow
Time to call it a night!”

And off into
The night
They drove quiet
As mice.

Promising they’d

Not be naughty

But nice.

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Thanks to Photoshopping by Scotto.