Pinky's call to ban candy canes.

You can tell it’s the last week of school by the sticky, stained fingers and faces of all the kids at school; it’s candy cane season. 

The carelessly discarded, annoying little pieces of cellophane blow freely around the gardens, oval and walkways on their way to the storm drain only to be swept out into the ocean to choke an unsuspecting turtle.

Some students suck their candy cane into sharp pointy spears which they use to stab each other. Others use the ones with golden strings attached as inventive earrings. 

The kids’ eyes are dilated in sugar-rush fever as they hand out the ubiquitous Christmas cards to their 29 classmates. I haven’t seen any sincere, meaningful messages on any of the cards, merely “To Jack, From Amy.”

I’m thinking the cards are a ruse to cover for the candy.

I have a rule. No eating candy canes until after the sausage roll at morning tea.

Apparently, a school in Darwin banned the giving of candy canes with Christmas cards and there was loud uproar from the parents. The dentists are the winners here, laughing all the way to the bank every January.

Candy canes were originally a religious symbol at Christmas. The “Good Shepherd’s Crook” or the “J” shape meaning Jesus, the white candy suggesting purity, the three red stripes denoting the Holy Trinity...

Now they’re just an added financial stress for Mum to add to her never-ending list of end of school year crap.

Every school should ban them.

Could I be carrying my sixth baby?

For the last six months I’ve worn a groove in the concrete path leading to the doctor’s door begging for script after script of various antibiotics to cure what appears to be a chronic urinary tract infection. 

The first time I went, the doctor gave me the wrong antibiotic and the surgery failed to notify me for a month so the evil micro-organisms were allowed to fester in self-satisfied camouflage for a while.


The new toxic-smelling, little yellow pills seemed to cure my ailment instantly but as they made me feel as queasy as a newbie sailor I stopped taking them too early, didn’t I?

Thrilled with this retreat; the surviving bacteria gathered forces, calling in the backup artillery just as William Wallace summoned the MacDougal and MacDonald clans to join his brave ranks screaming, "She can take our lives, but she can't take our freedom!"

Very soon, I was doubled up in pain again and hobbling back to the doctor for more of the stomach-stripping drugs.

This time I was very dedicated and took the nauseating tablets punctually but after two weeks they still weren’t working.

I went back to the doctor after the fortnight course begging for another type of cure.

“Keep going with these,” she insisted.

Two more weeks passed and I still didn’t feel right. Then I noticed the bottle of tablets I was dipping into every six hours had a strangely faded label.

“They’re only two weeks old!” I thought in confusion. “How could the label be so faded?”

It was then I realised I’d been intermittently using a bottle of the exact same class of antibiotic I’d been prescribed six years ago which were long, long past their expiry date.

“So anyway... I’ve unknowingly been taking one dead tablet and one live tablet alternatively for the last two weeks,” I related the story to my sister Sam, over a cup of tea one day. “So I had to go BACK to the doctor and explain the stupid thing I’d done and get another script and take ANOTHER course!”

“WHAT??? Are you training these bacteria or something? Are you trying to create a super breed of microbes?” Sam shook her head at me incredulously.

Fast forward two weeks… when I’d finished that final course I have to say I felt bloody fantastic… for about fourteen days.

Then… it came back!

Off I trotted to the doctors again. “Do you think I might be resistant to the tablets I’ve been taking?” I asked pitifully.

Dr B. wasn’t much of a talker. 

“Go for an ultrasound and come back and see me next week,” he grumbled.

I scrutinised the referral form carefully. 

Dr B. thinks I have a  Kidney stone!!!!

Naturally, I researched every website available to determine whether Kidney stones have ever killed anyone and apparently it doesn’t happen very often. 

Good… but they are evidently very hurty.

I looked up the main causes of kidney stones and guess what the best foods you can eat are, in order to cultivate a really healthy calcium oxalate stone?

Spinach and beetroot.

Guess what Pinky essentially lives on?

Every day, Pinky eats two cups of spinach and beetroot for lunch.

That’s four times the recommended amount of oxalate a susceptible person should consume in a day... and Pinky does that every single day.

My scan is tomorrow and I should find out whether or not I’m gestating my sixth child or not. 

I think I’ll ask for a Caesarean. A natural birth is out of the question, especially if it's going to be a multiple birth.

What will I call it? …Crystal?

I wonder if Popeye had kidney stones?

Pinky's Twelve Days of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas the things that I did see

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the second day of Christmas the things that I did see

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the third day of Christmas the things that I did see

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the fourth day of Christmas the things that I did see

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the fifth day of Christmas the things that I did see

Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the sixth day of Christmas the things that I did see

Six shoes a laying

Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the seventh day of Christmas the things that I did see

Seven butts on table

Six shoes a laying

Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the eighth day of Christmas the things that I did see

Eight empty loo rolls

Seven butts on table

Six shoes a laying

Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the ninth day of Christmas the things that I did see

Nine scattered glasses

Eight empty loo rolls

Seven butts on table

Six shoes a laying

Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the tenth day of Christmas the things that I did see

Ten fingers texting

Nine scattered glasses

Eight empty loo rolls

Seven butts on table

Six shoes a laying

Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the eleventh day of Christmas the things that I did see

Eleven missing ice cubes

Ten fingers texting

Nine scattered glasses

Eight empty loo rolls

Seven butts on table

Six shoes a laying

Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree

On the twelfth day of Christmas the things that I did see

Twelve sprinkled crisps

Eleven missing ice cubes

Ten fingers texting

Nine scattered glasses

Eight empty loo rolls

Seven butts on table

Six shoes a laying

Five empty cans...

Four teenage boys

Three dirty plates

Two towels on floor and

A Santa dog underneath the tree. 

Happy Advent!

How to Survive a Staff Christmas Party

                                      Toni Basil

I read in the newspaper yesterday that staff parties are highly dangerous in the respect that alcohol acts as a truth serum and many people wreck future career prospects with their big, well-oiled mouths.

Last night, I spent six hours in the same room as 100 colleagues and their partners at our "Eighties Themed" staff party. The champagne was flowing but apart from certain staff members hilariously falling off the stage during a dance-off competition, I’m fairly certain there were no serious incidents of inappropriate revelry.

The only foreseeable staff party dangers as far as I’m concerned are the grisly hangover you’re possibly going to suffer the next day, the remorseful and cringe-worthy flashbacks of your own flamboyant ‘sexy’ dancing and… THE PHOTOGRAPHS!

So here are the self-reflective tips I have (after the fact) for avoiding these mortifying issues.

1. Try to block photographs of yourself after a set time (when you’re plastered) so you don’t fall into the trap of pulling outlandish faces, poses or experiencing a wardrobe malfunction.

2. Do a bit of detective work prior to the party when you're deciding on a costume.

It would be such a shame if somebody else turned up in the same outfit!

         Meet...Mario (Mel), Luigi (Scotto), Mario (O'Reilly), Luigi (Rachel)      

3. Make sure you are adventurous in your wardrobe choices. One thing you don't want to do is merely blend in with the scenery.

4. When posing for photos try to stand with perfect posture ...

                       Blondie (Trina), Rubik's Cube (Emmsie), Amy.

If you're snapped leaning against a wall, or worse another body, you could wind up looking like a piss pot.

    Kazza, Emma, Kyles, Pinky, Shazza ... more lean than the Tower of Pisa.

5. No matter how infused with endearment for your beautiful colleagues you are, refrain from repeatedly telling them how much you LOVE them. They will tire of it quite quickly.

                                                  Rachael putting Pinky in a headlock.

6. Just like "planking", photobombing is extremely childish and so yesterday... look it up Greggles. Don't do it!

       Pinky trying to have a nice photo taken with the party mastermind, Kyles.

7. Remember that a group of people have been working hard in the background to make this special night a success.

Offer to help out if you can.

                                                 Pinky Poinker helping to judge the Dance Off.

8. Finally, to avoid that horrible hangover; take two aspirin before you leave for the party and two more when you get home (with a glass of milk). This will prevent inflammation of blood vessels in the brain. It may make your stomach bleed but you won't have a headache in the morning and I know which I'd prefer! 

(This is not authentic medical advice but the voice of experience)

9. If you do wake up feeling as though a bat has shat in your mouth there's always this sure fire way to feel better...

How much sex is normal?

     

Image Credit

                         

Did you know that lions and tigers have sex over fifty times a day for four consecutive days?

It’s true. I saw it on a David Attenborough documentary on the telly last night.

“What’s wrong with you then?” I daringly challenged Scotto, who was sitting beside me on the couch, relaxed and enjoying a chilled Corona and corn chips.

“Look at him!” Scotto spat his corn chips, pointing at the screen.

The exhausted tiger wallowed languidly in a creek, watching a wildebeest provocatively sauntering close by. The wildebeest was giving the tiger the finger.

“He’s too shattered to even bother chasing the deer thing! His willy’s probably burning like hell. He’s trying to cool it down in the water. You can see his face wincing!” Scotto choked on his beer.

Men! They have an excuse for everything!

Is it okay to re-gift unwanted presents for Christmas?

I’ve only ever re-gifted once and that incident resulted in enough mortification to last a lifetime.

We put on a party for Thaddeus when he turned four and he happened to receive two thoughtfully presented but identical “Bananas in Pyjamas” books. 

Thrifty Pinky put one book aside in a drawer for any future pre-schooler’s birthday parties Thaddeus may attend.

Sure enough, about two weeks later he was invited to another rugrat shindig... so I carefully re-wrapped the Bananas book and tucked it under Thaddeus’ tiny arm for him to present to the lucky recipient.

The next week at pre-school, the mother of the afore-mentioned child approached me at the gate wielding said book. 

“We thought we’d better give little Thaddeus his book back,” she smiled without using her eyes. Before I could recover from my spluttering seizure, she’d swivelled around abruptly and trounced off.

“How the heck did she know?” I thought in mystified embarrassment.

It wasn’t until later when I opened it up to read it to one of the kids at bedtime that I noticed the handwritten inscription inside the front cover,

“To darling Thaddeus, 

all our love from Auntie Julie, Uncle Mike and cousins.”

Shite!

What’s in your Handbag? Pinky Reveals All.

Image Credit

Well… I’ve been waiting for a national magazine to call me requesting a feature story on “What I keep in my handbag” and it’s not been forthcoming so I guess I will just have to do the feature myself.

What Does Pinky Store in her Hermes Handbag?

1. Aromatherapy drops to dab on my temples in times of stress.

2. My Chanel No.5 perfume which I NEVER leave the house without.

3. Caviar hand cream I picked up in Paris.

4. My Apple iPhone 5 because I'm such an Apple fanboy :)

5. Lancome lipstick so I'm always looking my best.

6. The Little Book of Calm to keep me centred.

7. A manicure set for those little snags.

8. Rescue Remedy to get me through the busy day.

9. A holiday snap of the family skiing at Aspen last Christmas.

GAMIN!

1. To say something you really don't mean and make sure everyone around you heard it. (Urban Dictionary)

This is what is really in my handbag...

1. A plethora of old, scrunched up grocery receipts.

2. An asthma puffer (even though I don't get asthma unless I eat pickled onions) because you never know!

3. Some yoyo string Scotto wants me to take to work for Kyles' husband Troy???

4. Half a packet of Soothers circa January 2013.

5. A Breast Cancer Pen.

6. Chewable Disprin for the inevitable headache.

7. Berocca to keep me awake.

8. Sorbolene hand cream I picked up at Coles.

9. A half chewed packet of Nicorettes.

This must be why I haven't heard from any women's magazines huh?

What Do You Search for on Google?

If you read Pinky Poinker regularly you will have noted my penchant for writing silly lists.

You know what I mean; Signs of Getting Old, Signs you spend too much time blogging, Signs of Your Cat Being an Alien… that sort of rubbish.

Well today, I was feeling a tad lazy and thought I’d nick an idea from Google to satirise.

I typed in “Signs of a” just to see what Mr Google would throw up as the most popular searches and perhaps find inspiration with which to entertain you all.

In horrified fascination I went through the entire alphabet of what the top #4 most frequent searches by the global community are when looking for 

“signs of…”

Autism, A heart attack, A stroke, Anxiety.

Breast cancer, Bipolar, Bowel cancer, Being pregnant

Cancer, Concussion, Cervical cancer, Cheating

Depression, Diabetes, Dehydration, Dementia

Early labour, Early pregnancy, Ectopic pregnancy, Emotional abuse

Food poisoning, Fatigue, Falling in love, Flirting

Gastro, Gestational diabetes, Going into labour, Gluten intolerance

Heart attack, High blood pressure, HIV, Heart problems

Iron deficiency, Internal Bleeding, Infection, Implantation

Jealousy, Judgement Day Jaundice, Jealousy in men

Kidney failure, Kidney infection, Kidney disease, Kidney stones

Labour, Lung cancer, Liver cancer, Leukemia

Miscarriage, Measles, Menopause, MS

Neglect, Nervous breakdown, Neurological dysfunction, Negative fluid balance

Ovulation, Ovarian cancer, Overtraining, Ovarian cysts

Pregnancy, Pneumonia, Prostate cancer, Parvo

Qiyamah (Day of Judgement), Qayamat (Doomsday), Q Fever, Qayamat already happened

Uti, Urinary infection, Uterine cancer, Underactive Thyroid

Vitamin D deficiency, Very early pregnancy, Vertigo, Vaginal Thrush

Worms, Whooping cough, Worms in kids, Wear

Xanax, Xanax addiction, Xanax overdose, Xylitol poisoning in dogs

Yeast infection, Your period, Your water breaking, Your first period

Zodiac, Zinc deficiency, Zinc Toxicity, Zodiac Dates


All I can say is, “Lighten the hell up, guys!”

I would have preferred to find “signs of…” 

Alcohol’s Benefits 

Beauty in the Fifth Decade 

Calories are a Myth 

Diets are Dangerous 

Ears that stick out are an indicator of intelligence 

Fairies are real and living in YOUR garden

Ghandi is alive and living in Queensland with Elvis

Hedonism is the latest trend 

Ironing is a Dying Art 

Junk Food can be good for you 

KFC is made from rodents not chickens 

Leaving things to the last minute is good for your health 

Myer's having a 90% sale within the next week 

Nits are reaching extinction levels

Old is the new young 

Paleo diet makes people grow hair on their back 

Quinoa is not actually supposed to be ingested 

Rocket scientists aren’t that smart 

Sanity is overrated 

Telstra is closing down for good 

UFOs are real 

Vampire movies and TV shows are losing their appeal 

Weather Forecasters being questioned on their credibility 

X Factor courting 50+ contestants soon 

Ying and Yang are really back to front 

and finally…


Zombie movies are about to be banned in 196 countries.

Image credit: Scotto

Fur Flies as the End of the School Year Approaches

You can tell we’re nearing the end of the school year…

The fighting, bickering, paranoid behaviour and personal slurs have escalated. 

I’ve witnessed savage elbow jabbing into ribs in tussles at the pigeon holes, eyes rolling in barely concealed impatience and the odd Chinese burn inflicted on an imprudent victim who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time

…and that’s just between the teachers in the staffroom.

Everyone’s tired. Our edges are rapidly fraying and seams splitting revealing the soft, ultra-sensitive underbellies beneath.

The School Guidance Counsellor, Julie, has set up a pamper station in the staffroom laden with bowls of chocolate, hand gels, stress balls, candles and self-help books.

Someone should tell her we need something a little stronger; like Valium and Gin.

Today, after finishing a gruelling lesson on pictographs as I was handing out some practise worksheets I wearily said to the kids, “If anyone is having trouble with a question just give me a ring.”

They stared at me with amusement, “But we don’t have any phones Mrs Poinker!” chimed twenty-eight highly entertained students.

Besides the fact that we teachers are shattered after a long year, it’s also the dreaded Report Card time again.

Writing reports (as I commented on poetically last semester….click here) used to be so simple. My teachers hand-wrote whatever sarcastic criticisms came to mind as they sat with their oil lamps burning and a half empty bottle of sherry beside them.

School Report for Pinky Poinker 1978
English Mrs Wordsmith	Whilst Pinky should be commended on her ability to write an expanded essay based on the title and front cover of the text; “Lord of the Flies” was not about a pig who learns to fly a plane and breaks his glasses, thus causing him to crash the plane into a rainforest riddled with flies. More effort is required in this subject next semester.
Mathematics Mr Pickles	Thank you for the lovely letter you wrote me on your blank test paper, Pinky.  I’m sorry but I can’t pass you even though I am sorry to hear you lost your revision sheets and had a migraine the night before your exam.
Ancient History Miss Seenitall	Quoting two verses and a chorus of “ Rivers of Babylon” by Boney M is not a reflection of Mesopotamian Society in 1893 BC. Pinky should try harder.
Modern History Mrs Churchill	The “Rats of Tobruk” were not actual ‘rats’ and were most certainly not the cause of the Bubonic Plague in Europe in World War Two. Pinky is not reaching her true potential.
Biology Mr Weboflife	If Pinky had spent less time throwing frog entrails around the classroom during dissection in order to make Shirleen Hooper vomit and spent more time doing her assignments (of which she submitted-0) perhaps she may have passed this subject.
Art Mr Dodgy	Who is this Pinky Poinker?  I don’t believe I’ve ever met her. I thought she must have left the school because she’s never been to any classes, ever. Fail.

Teachers must have had FUN writing reports back in those days.

Three Hints on How to Keep a Secret

So... someone dear to you has told you a big, juicy, luscious secret. 

Nothing bad mind you… just a little piece of hush-hush they’ve entrusted you with. 

How do you resist the temptation to reveal your delicious, clandestine parcel of succulence? Here's some advice...

1. Whatever you do, when the subject comes up in conversation with a third party do not adopt a Sergeant Schultz accent and walk off saying, 

“I know nothink, I know nothink!”

It will immediately raise suspicion.

2.  If the person who told you the secret is not in the vicinity, do not deliberately bring his/her name up in the hope that some discerning person has picked up on something odd going on, merely to feed your smug wisdom. 

It will backfire when your face automatically assumes a superior expression, giving your insider-info savvy away and you will be inundated with twenty ‘yes or no’ questions. There will be no mercy. Fingernails will be torn from your fingers in attempts to extricate information.

# Do not cough loudly and ostentatiously stare at your feet when the secret-holder’s name comes up just to draw attention to the fact that you may KNOW something. 

Even though you haven’t quite done a little jig whilst singing “I know something that YOU don’t know!” your transfixed audience will catch on and drill you relentlessly until you explode and reveal all.


In other words… never tell Pinky a secret because she won’t be able to keep it.

Pinky Poinker tells…Why Teachers Make More Interesting Lovers

So… you’ve just started dating a teacher? Well there are few little things you need to know first…

# If you ring and cancel a date due to sickness you’re going to have to give her a note from your mother.

# If you accidentally call her “Mummy” she’ll just smile indulgently.

# If she catches you playing with your balls she’s going to lock them in the bottom of her desk drawer until the end of term.

# If she catches you showing anyone else your balls she’s going to confiscate them indefinitely.

# If you don’t know how to hold your pencil properly she’ll show you how.

# She’ll insist you be in the correct position when you’re holding your pencil.

# She’ll demand you keep your pencil sharp at all times.

# If you misbehave or argue back you will be required to stand outside the door for five minutes.

# When it’s a rainy day she’ll insist you stay indoors with her all day.

# If you drop by when she’s busy doing marking she will put a G rated movie on and make you watch it without talking for an hour.

# She won’t let you go outside to play without a hat.

# Your phone will be sequestered when you walk through the front door.

# If you have a Pacer she will help you put the lead in your pencil.

# She has plenty of spare rubbers in her drawer.

# You will receive a comprehensive written report on your performance twice a year.

And what happens if two teachers get together?

Why it’s a match made in Heaven of course.