Pinky's Book Link

Showing posts with label Blogging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blogging. Show all posts

Thursday, June 26, 2014

Why I Write


There sat little Pinky; balancing her lap top on her knees, delicately eating an afternoon tea banana and chortling her head off at another highly amusing post by the razor-witted, Mumabulous, when she suddenly noticed the wickedly sassy blogging princess had tagged her and Louisa from My Midlife Mayhem, in the (rapidly proliferating) “Why I Write” Blog Hop.

Despite what you think, I really don’t like to write about myself. I’m an introvert, diffident, fearful of attention, reticent and… well, full of false humility and bulls#*&.

I tossed the now obsolete banana over my shoulder and immediately began to tap out my response to the prompt.

How does my writing differ from others in my genre?

When I was a kid my ABC loving, higher-order-thinking father, banned my siblings and I from watching commercial television (in his presence) which meant I grew up on a nourishing diet of ‘Monty Python’, ‘Fawlty Towers’, ‘The Goodies’ and ‘The Young Ones’, which has resulted in my writing an overabundance of what some would describe as a pile of silly twaddle.

For example, posts about subjects as inane as; my very large bunion, whether or not I should have my sons neutered, how I did an interview on myself and another with my parrot.

Many of my colleagues dislike this type of absurd and frivolous writing intensely and have made sure to inform me of this fact when they see me the next morning at work. They seem to forget that Pinky has feelings too.
I’m a primary school teacher which provides me with plenty of unusual fodder, most of which must be handled with a great deal of care and discretion, especially considering two Deputy Principals at my school often check in to read what fallacious exaggerations the Pinkster has posted this time.

Why do I write?

One day a friend sat patiently, tapping her fingers on the table and pretending to listen, as I blustered on about the latest outrageous exploits and adventures enacted by my four teenage sons (and the resulting fallout which was costing me large sums of money)… again.

“You should write a book, Pinky,” she yawned, openly.

I could have taken this in the true sense it was meant and realised she wanted me to shut the hell up and get lost. But what I heard was, “You should write a book.”

Now, anyone who has read Pinky Poinker knows what a lazy so and so she is and there is no way she possesses the mental fortitude, resilience or commitment to write a book, edit, edit again, edit one more time, send it to a publisher and then withstand anything unpleasant such as brutal rejection.

So I did what I thought would be a lazy way out and decided to just write a little bit every day. Not a book, but something to save me from earbashing unsuspecting victims caught in my bitter spider’s web of grievances and whinge-fests.

Once that was all out of my system I realised I enjoyed playing around with this writing business and rapidly became dependent on that giddy rush when I clicked the publish button on a post.

How does my writing process work?

Angles are more important to me than subject matter. Coming up with an unexpected approach which is entertaining and scaffolds a post that's able to ‘stand alone’ is what I strive to achieve.

In case you haven’t noticed my mixed tenses, superfluous adverbs, disgraceful abuse of tautology, crass metaphors and inappropriate adjectives sourced from the Thesaurus, this blog is not about high quality literature.

It’s about shallow, inconsequential trivia presented in the most engaging way I’m capable of delivering… solely written for your enjoyment my dear reader.

After writing and publishing a post, I sit in nail-biting dread, suspecting that this one, this obscure and pathetic piece of tripe will be the lead balloon that fails to take off, tumbling down to the ground and shattering my fragile ego into a zillion pieces. But it only takes one person to ‘like’, comment or ‘favourite’ the post and I miraculously re-inflate, knowing there is at least one person in the world who ‘got’ it… ‘got’ me.

Insecure narcissism is not an oxymoron.

What I’m working on.

Apart from having recently finished writing twenty-six school reports I’m not working on anything at all. However, a certain ‘someone’ is gently urging me to write a book. A light hearted mystery novel is what I’d like to dip my nib into. 

I’m thinking of hanging around the magistrates court in the school holidays in the hope of gathering inspiration but I’m slightly nervous I’ll see someone I know and they’ll think I’m up on drink-driving charges… again (jokes).

The time has now come to pass the baton to two other bloggers in this blog tag.

I would love to introduce you to two of my favourite bloggers;


Both of these clever ladies excel in their very different genres and personally, I can’t wait to read what they have to say.

Linking up with Grace at With Some Grace

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Ermahgerd! I'm on Mrs Woog!

                           Pinky and Kaz (Worse selfie ever taken according to Kaz.)

I was champing at the bit in excitement last Monday when I received an email from one of Australia’s top bloggers, the hugely popular Mrs Woog, informing me that one of my posts was to be published on her blog the following Sunday.

I was so thrilled I didn’t tell anyone in case I jinxed it.

I was so overwrought with titillated anticipation that when I reread my submitted post for the nine hundred and seventeeth time and noticed an alarming and conspicuous spelling mistake, I was too scared to email Mrs Woog and ask her if she could please correct it for me in case she decided I should be put in the too hard basket and cancel the whole shebang.

Here is the link to click on… Woogsworld

I was over at Magnetic Island with the inimitable Buzz Club all weekend and forced all the girls to check out my guest post on their phones.

“I’m going to be FAMOUS!” I shrilled.

“But hang on Pinky,” cautioned Kaz, as she screwed her nose up at the screen

“This post is by someone called Pinky POINTER. You’re Pinky Poinker with a "k" aren’t you?”

I snatched the phone from her hand and stared at it in dismay. The story of my life flashing up in my face; the countless disappointments of people getting my name wrong, the forgotten invitations, the bittersweet, successive runner-up ribbons and participation awards I've received over the last few decades.

Mrs Woog, my idol, had called me Pinky Pointer.

Poinker is a stupid name anyway, Pinky!” scowled Kaz. “You do realise ‘Poinker’ means ‘dickhead’ in Russian.”

                                    My Russian translator, Kaz.
Normally, I would pay no heed to any of the rubbish that comes out of Kaz’s mouth, but rumour has it, she’s part of the Croatian Mafia so she’s probably correct in this instance.

Anyway… I DON’T CARE! 

If the Gorgeous Mrs Woog wants to call me Pinky Pointer she can…and that’s all there is to it.

Please leave a comment on Woogsworld to make me seem more popular than I am... even if it's just to point out my spelling mistake.

Linking up with Emily at Have a Laugh on me! for Laughlink!

Friday, May 30, 2014

I'm Changing my Blog!!!


I need a niche.

My father sent me an email informing me I should stop wasting my time writing about myself because not only is it excruciatingly, mind-numbingly BORING… but Niche Blogs are the only way to make any money (and that is a very important fact of life as far as Dad is concerned).

Apparently niche blogs do better than blogs about… about… stuff like what I write.

So what the hell is a niche anyway?

I looked it up and this is what I found…

-A shallow recess, especially one in a wall to display an ornament or statue.

Why would anyone want to write or read about a hole in the wall?

My sister has a hole in the wall in her kitchen (still waiting to be re-plastered) from when someone, (no-one has ever owned up) had a few too many Christmas drinks and toppled into it… but that’s not very interesting.

I suppose you could write a heap of intriguing posts based on ‘a hole in the wall’, for example;

“Things I’ve seen whilst peering through a hole in the wall.”

“How to fix a sore eye after being poked when you were peering through a hole in the wall.”

“Holes in the Wall - their Personal Stories.”

“Ten Easy Yoga Positions you can do inside your Hole in the Wall.”

“Thirteen Insane (but true) things about Holes in Walls”

“How a Hole in the Wall once Saved the World!”

“Why No-one Talks about Holes in the Walls Anymore.”

“Will Holes in the Wall ever Rule the World?”

“The Eighteen Best ‘Hole in the Wall’ Youtube Videos Ever!”

“Why Holes in the Wall are like the School Bully!”

“Nineteen Ways Holes in the Wall are Completely Overrated!”

"Winter Accessories in the Hole in the Wall"

“Why Holes in the Walls are the Best Things since Sliced Bread!”

“Why Holes in the Wall are Sexy.”

“Twenty Unexpected Uses for Holes in the Wall.”

I think this was the sort of thing Dad was getting at. The options are bloody endless.

What do you think? Could I make a quick buck or should I stick to my lacklustre, narcissistic crap?

Thank you to Content Idea Generator for giving me these brilliant ideas!

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

H- is for How I Interviewed Myself One Day


A to Z April Challenge

Shamefully, sometimes when I read other people’s blogs I am enveloped in a warm and treacherous cloud of jealousy. 

“I’m not commenting on that post!” I’ll think. “It’s too clever, too funny, too much… better than moi.”

When I see a post with scores of comments I’m often consumed with envy. 

When I come across an interview a blogger has written about another blogger I occasionally feel green with envy. As green as a green eyed, green snake in green grass with its horrible eyes bulging in resentment.

Why? Why? Why? Why doesn’t anyone ever interview me?

So I’ve done exactly what any bitter, unpleasant blogger would do and interviewed myself. Or rather my arch nemesis Magenta has interviewed me. Please enjoy.

Magenta: For those of you that have never come across her site, Pinky Poinker writes a blog here..

I thought we might connect with Pinky today and find out what really goes on behind her silly writings and trivial meanderings.

So firstly Pinky, the question on everyone’s lips, what is the secret to your youthful appearance?

Pinky: (Throaty laugh) Hahaha! Why thank you Magenta! Ummm… I’d have to say 5% genetics, 5% Photoshopping and 89% preserved in wine.

Magenta: That’s only 99% Pinky.

Pinky: Is it? Okay then… another 5% preserved in wine.

Magenta: But that’s…. never mind. So Pinky can you tell us what motivated you to start writing a blog?

Pinky: Revenge. I wanted to get my teenagers back for all the dreadful things they were doing to me. Public shaming you might say.

Magenta: That’s very acrimonious Pinky. Has there been any fallout from your exposes and revealing stories?

Pinky: Well, they did unfriend me on Facebook… but they still turn up for spaghetti bol every week so they can’t be that upset.

Magenta: Now they’re grown up Pinky, where do you see your blog going in the future?

Pinky: Cats, I thought. There really aren’t enough cat pictures out there on the Internet. Or perhaps I could write about menopause and how it makes you sweat a lot and become a bit weird.

Magenta: I think those ideas may have already been covered at length, Pinky. What about your passions? What are your passions?

Pinky: Well… I do tend to get very passionate about the unanswered questions in our world. For example; when is it appropriate to use a semi colon or a colon? And what does a colonoscopy have to do with it?

Magenta: Where and when do you do your fabulous writing?

Pinky: Generally speaking, I sit on the couch downstairs every afternoon, write my post and edit it meticulously three or four times. Then I go for a pensive walk along the river analysing what I’ve written. Then I come home and delete what I wrote; scream at Scotto that I couldn’t write a decent blog post to save my life, Scotto gets me a wine and promises to do a nice little graphic for me, then I tap out my literary work of genius based on inspiration from what’s on the six o’clock news or Deal or No Deal.

Magenta: What do you do when you develop writer’s block?

Pinky: (Shrugs) I look at funny dog memes on Facebook.

Magenta: What’s your favourite post you’ve written?

Pinky: The one about the day I split up with Jon Hamm. It was difficult at the time but I got through it in the end. The link!

Magenta: Who are your favourite bloggers Pinky?

Pinky: Magenta! I could never name my favourite bloggers because by naming a few you are dissing the rest and I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Just sayin’. Not that anyone has ever hurt my feelings. Much. 

Magenta: What has been the most important thing your blogging career has taught you thus far Pinky?

Pinky: My poems aren’t very popular… at all. Ever. None of them.

Magenta: Okay to conclude the interview I’m going to say a word and I’d like you to respond with one word or phrase…

Magenta: Fun                      Pinky: Factory

Magenta: Shopping            Pinky: Trolley

Magenta: Fashion              Pinky: Magazine

Magenta: Wine                  Pinky: Rack

Magenta: Life                     Pinky: Line

Magenta: Holiday               Pinky: Inn

Magenta (sighing): Book    Pinky: Case

Magenta: Movie                  Pinky: World

Magenta: I think you misunderstand Pinky. When I say the word you are supposed to respond with something poignant, not just a word that goes with the word.

Pinky: Really! Is that so? I’m sorry, but if you don’t like my answers I’m bringing this interview to a close. Now!

Pinky overturns the coffee table, stomps out of the room and slams the door on her way out.

Linking up with Grace at With Some Grace

Thursday, January 16, 2014

How long has blogging REALLY been around?

Often when you mention the fact you write a blog, people don't have the faintest idea of what you're talking about.

The thing is, women have been 'blogging' and using varied forms of social media to relate aspects of their lives and memories, political views and knowledge...since forever.

Cave paintings
Paleolithic Wife- Cooking Blog.

"Errg's Bites"

Full Moon, 17300 years ago

This is what my husband, Ugg brought back from hunting yesterday. Cooked it over open fire with nuts and berries I gathered. Fed a family of eighteen. Click on link for tasty recipe.
Image Credit

Ancient Roman Graffiti- Political Blogger

"Claudia Reports"
15 March 44 BC

While Brutus was at the Senate meeting I went into the town square and blogged about that right-winged b#stard Julius Caesar. Something has to be done about that misogynist. Women should be citizens!

Ancient Egyptian Heiroglyphics: Journal Blogger

"Pinky Salwasi's Crazy Life!"

Shumo, 3100 BC

It's summer and the kids and I popped down to the Nile Valley for a swim. Nebtawi (hubby) went to the temple all day to pray to the Gods so we had the day to ourselves.Picked up a nice side of gazelle from the markets and just hope teenage sons are home to eat it for a change. Sick of keeping leftovers in the icebox.
Image Credit

Normandy Craft Blogger

Image Credit

"Catherine's Crafty Corner"
Tuesday, 1075.

Well, we are finally up to the 65th metre of the Bayeaux Tapestry! Only 5 more to go! Mathilda's playing a practical joke and embroidering a Where's Wally somewhere in the tapestry. I bet you can't find it! We have free give-aways to the first three readers who comment correctly!

Feminist Blogger- Venus of Willendorf
Image Credit

 "Venus Greer and her Eunichs"
 25 000 BC

A Stone Age dissertation on why women should not be judged by their beauty.
I happened upon this when I was out gathering sticks yesterday. The statuette speaks for itself; please note the absence of a face or feet and the 'junk in the trunk'. Just what is the point of this? If I find the guy who carved this I'll hit him over the head with his own club. 

Marie Antoinette's Beauty Blog

Image Credit
"Marie and You"
October 15, 1793

The big trend now girls is powder, powder, powder. I use a swanspuff to apply and you can pick one of these up at Targette for three livre. Make sure you apply plenty of white paint beforehand to cover up the Smallpox scars! Rosewater hides a multitude of sins my lovelies. For example when you haven't taken a bath for eight years! Gotta go darls, someone's knocking very loudly on the door...

Cleopatra- Fashion Blog

Image Credit

"Cleo's Couture" 
11 August 30 BC

In my role as Queen of Egypt, I have to meet up with many diplomats and therefore attend many formal occasions. My secret to looking good on the carpet? Or rolling out of the carpet?
Bling! Some fabulous gold earrings and plonk on a wig... you're good to go. Those upper armbands are rocking it right now too, but I tend to shy away from the snake-shaped bands... they make me feel uneasy for some reason!

Monday, January 6, 2014

Pinky Poinker Celebrates One Year of Blogging!

                         Thank you to Scotto for the graphic.

Today marks the official end of my first year of blogging.

I've published 153 810 words of inane drivel. Not quite "War and Peace" (560 000 odd words) but if I could just improve the writing style and quality, I may have a book!

Therefore, I thought I’d finish the year with a really self-indulgent, stupid post... so if you’re not in the mood for idiocy I’ll hopefully see you tomorrow when I’ll try to be sensible again.

Pinky's Silly Toilet Humour
There are two more weeks left of the school holidays for us teachers.

I'm very bored now that the festive season is over and Scotto’s gone back to work…

Yesterday, while Scotto and I floated around the pool on blow-up beds escaping the vicious Queensland heatwave, the product Anusol (an ointment recommended for itching, burning haemorrhoids) randomly came into my head. 

I don’t know why, I didn’t have an itchy bottom… but it just did.

“Anus-ol,” I sounded it out slowly.

“Sounds very like anus-hole. Do you think the manufacturers were having a laugh at the public’s expense?” I mused.

Scotto laughed.

I’m always guaranteed a laugh when I say the word ‘anus’ out loud in front of Scotto.

“Poopen Schtinken’s a funny word for it too,” he giggled.

“Where did you hear that? Did you make it up?” I asked curiously, impressed at such an amusing word.

“It’s from a movie,” he replied. “I can’t remember which one…”

This morning, tired of watching infomercials on the telly, I decided to look up “Poopen Schtinken” on Google just to see what I could find.

“Did you mean Schtinken Poopen?” Mr Google replied.

“Okaaaaay… I’ll try anything once,” I thought.

Schtinken Poopen turned out to be the name of a song by an English band called 'Atlases'.


But I wanted “Poopen Schtinken”.

Did you mean ‘Poop Chicken’? I was rudely interrogated by that know-it-all browser once again.

No. I didn’t. But I had to check it out anyway. It’s not like I had anything else to do…

Poop Chicken (Urban Dictionary)

Similar to playing "chicken" with an opposing car on a road, "poop chicken" begins when you and someone else walk into a public restroom at the same time, both with the intention to take a poop. You go into your separate stalls and then sit there, waiting for the other to leave so that you can do your business in peace. The first person to just get up and leave without pooping loses the game of poop chicken.


Mr Google then suggested I may have meant to type in “Puten Schinken” which most surprisingly turned out to be this…
 a style of sausage.

There was no link to any movies and even when I put “Poopen Schtinken” into Google Translator it said that the language detected was in actual fact, English.

So there you go. Scotto made up his own special word for bottom hole and he doesn’t even know it.

I know some people hate any discussion about poop whatsoever, so stop reading now if you’re one of those people.





is there an echo in here?

Over the years our family has come up with many pseudonyms for poop.

First there was “Wombat” which was coined by my father when my little brother apparently neglected to flush something the size of a wombat down the toilet.

“Kookaburra” was a name my own kids used for Number Twos and the reason is explained in this funny post!

“A Flynn’s” was the name used by my girlfriend Nettie and myself, after one of us (not Nettie) had a notable incident in the toilets at a local bar of the same name.

I tend to use the term ‘Poodoople’ these days, as in “I need to go poodoople.”

What’s your family name for it? Come on... you know you have one...

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.

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?

Sunday, November 3, 2013

A Post about Princess Rachael

                            Princess Rachael

“Did you read the post I wrote yesterday about Melbourne Cup Day?” I asked my teaching buddy, Rachael this morning at a fund-raising brunch our dear friend Kyles, was graciously hosting.

“Yes Pinky, I looked at it,” she sniffed indifferently.

“So? Did you like it? Did you laugh?” I needled her, desperately hoping she’d throw me a frickin bone.

“Are you talking about the post where the horses are talking to each other?” Rachael yawned. “It was alright I suppose.”

“Alright??” I squealed indignantly. “Just alright? Did you actually read it?”

“Not really, I’m not really interested in talking horses.”

But… I’d spent hours researching it, I thought sullenly. It was my attempt to be creative, abstract... original…

“OH… so you only like the posts I write about YOU?” I hissed, suddenly remembering who I was talking to.

“Yep,” she acknowledged, as she bit delicately into an avocado and cheese croissant.

“By the way, how come you don’t get any comments on your site, Pinky? I clicked on some of those bloggers who’ve made the odd comment on your blog and they get dozens of replies.” Rachael continued cruelly, as she repetitively stabbed a toothpick into a tiny piece of pastry.

She’d struck a nerve. Bloody comments!

Now I realise I’ve written about this bugbear of mine before but I’ve finally decided to do something about it once and for all.

Many years ago, a man I was dating proved to be exceedingly poor in the communication department. What I mean to say is… he never called when he said he would. 

Not being one to respect women who sit waiting by the phone like big losers, I quickly realised I was beginning to obsess about the whereabouts of my phone and anxiously jumping every time it beeped.

I’m sure many of you can relate to this ugly phenomenon.

So... I did what any other unsound of mind, irrational person would do; I removed the battery from my phone and placed it in a glass of water, thus destroying my phone and cutting off my nose to spite my face.

Knowing that I will never possess the persistence and tenacity of all the other bloggers and join up to the myriad of link-ups and whatever else they do, I’ve decided to remove the commenting facility from my blog entirely.

There are two distinct advantages to this system; firstly, I won’t know what I’m missing and will cease sobbing myself to sleep every night and secondly, the pressure will be removed from all of you guys having to create a witty response to my side-splitting, creative talent.

So anyway… thank you to Princess R. for bringing this issue to a head and thanks to the three of you who have dipped their nib from time to time (you know who you are) and made comments. You’re all most welcome to make your feelings known via Facebook or Twitter.

Unfortunately I will be unable to escape the scathing reviews from my very sweet friend, Princess Rachael, as I work in a classroom beside her every day (I’ve just been sentenced to another twelve month stint); however, I’m sure I’ll find a way to get her back some way or another.

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Do You Think Pinky Sounds Like a Wanker?


Look… to be fair it was eleven o’clock at night, and Scotto was tired.

But his reply was quite amusing when I rolled over in bed as we were sleepily messing around on our laptops (not a euphemism) and turned to him asking, 

“Scotto, do you think when I write my blog posts I sometimes come across as a bit of a… compulsive polysyllabricator?

“Huh?” he replied, “Please explain, Pauline?”

“I mean… am I a bit of a sesquipedalianist?”

“Still not with you, Pinky,” he yawned in my face.

“You know… big words, do you think I use too many big words in my posts?”

“It’s your blog Pinky, you can do what you want,” came his standard reply.

“What about adverbs? Do I use too many? It’s just that I don’t want to sound like a wanker.” I wailed.

“Just refresh my memory,” he replied, “what’s an adverb again?”

Anyway, I spent some time today wondering if I do indeed use a ridiculous amount of unnecessary words in my attempts at writing so I thought I’d try out a comparative exercise.

Thursday Sport
I despise Thursdays for one reason. Much to the bitter disappointment of the energetic boys in my class I’m somewhat disinclined to lug my ever-swelling torso out on to the oval to play sport in the sweltering North Queensland sun.

A few years ago, every Wednesday night I prayed for it to pour with rain on Thursday, and lo and behold it did… leading to the cancellation of Thursday P.T. (Physical Torture) for an ENTIRE term.

I began to develop delusions of grandeur imagining I might actually have a direct link to Numero Uno, whilst the P.E. teacher Alan, glowered guardedly at me from across the staff room; as if I might possibly have the numbers 666 stamped on my scalp, keep a snarling hyena in the classroom and dance naked around a pentagram in the woods each full moon.

Sadly, that never happened again and I’ve been unable to weasel my way out of Thursday sport for years. Today, after fruitlessly surveying the horizon in search of miraculous storm clouds, I reluctantly marched the throng of excitables out to the oval for a game of T Ball. We had the ball, we had the bat, but the year 5s had nicked all the Ts so what we essentially played was more like ‘softball for dummies’.

It was hot enough for a chicken to lay a boiled egg and some of the girls sensibly feigned various ailments so they could sit in the shade and gossip.

I stood in the sun with my sweat sweating and pretty much acted as safety officer, screaming at the batsmen to stop chucking the steel bat like a javelin (mostly in Pinky’s direction) every time they hit the ball. 

Suddenly I noticed Finbar crying on second base. He was holding his finger high in the air, flailing his arms and sobbing relentlessly.

“What happened, Finbar?” I asked peering at his unmarked finger.

“Matty ran into me and bit me on the finger!” he shrieked in a piercing cry.

Matty stood frozen on the spot, an expression of terror on his face.

“It was an accident, Mrs P.” he whimpered pleadingly.

“How can you accidentally bite someone?” I queried sceptically, noting the absence of blood and wondering if the near hysterical Finbar might be overreacting a tad.

“I ran into his finger with my mouth open.”

So do you see now why I hate sport?

Now if I’d written that story in an unwanky style it would have read like this.

Thursday Sport

We had to play sport today. I dislike sport. It didn’t rain and it was hot. The girls didn’t want to play and one of the boys hurt his finger.
Do you see what I mean?