Stolen from the Elizabeth West High School Facebook Page.
Note the accuracy of content!
Aww I miss home sometimes!
 |
| Elizabeth Town Centre Clock |
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the ‘hood,
Santa was struggling to find someone good.
It’s that time of year and he dreads what that heralds,
He’s off to the suburbs to visit the ferals.
He’s checking his list and he’s scanning Police channels,
... Avoiding sleigh-jackers and roof solar panels.
A trashed rental house with a yard full of wrecks.
Five lazy bludgers all claim pension cheques.
Though her boyfriend might look just like a hobbit,
He scored her a fridge, just don’t ask where he got it.
The numerous partners, the under-aged sex.
Confused family picnics, “Which child from which ex?”.
The young girls all texting while boys work their abs.
You‘ve got to have muscles to carry the slabs.
A Southern Cross sticker and matching tattoo.
Piercings-a-plenty and no bloody clue.
Hoons with their mismatched wheels (mags front, rims rear).
Doughnuts and drifting most nights of the year.
A defected car and a neglected dog,
No shortage of ciggies or junkfood or grog.
There’s a shed out the back to house their hydroponics.
Large tattooed women and their histrionics.
“I’m ADHD! I don’t care what you think!”
As she skulls down another high-energy drink.
Addictions are many, there’s smoking then patches.
Give up the pokies and take up the scratchers.
Homemade tattoos on the sides of their necks
Look like they’re drawn on with Mum’s Hobbytex.
Just in case Santa decides not to stop,
They’re off to buy crap from the Two Dollar shop.
They’re drunk or they’re stoned as they walk down the street,
Tots just in nappies, no shoes on their feet.
Quickly off-loading their hot stuff at Cashies,
Then straight ‘cross the road for McNuggets and Hashies.
They all shuffle home with their Red Bull and fags,
While the kiddies hang back just to practice their “tags”.
Our shoppers leave trolleys all strewn through the park,
For under-aged drinkers to trash after dark.
They’re chance of a present appears to be zero.
They’ll have to rely on their own Bogan hero.
He’s fat and he’s jolly, with lots of white hair.
It’s not Santa Claus, it’ the Bundaberg Bear!
Santa was struggling to find someone good.
It’s that time of year and he dreads what that heralds,
He’s off to the suburbs to visit the ferals.
He’s checking his list and he’s scanning Police channels,
... Avoiding sleigh-jackers and roof solar panels.
A trashed rental house with a yard full of wrecks.
Five lazy bludgers all claim pension cheques.
Though her boyfriend might look just like a hobbit,
He scored her a fridge, just don’t ask where he got it.
The numerous partners, the under-aged sex.
Confused family picnics, “Which child from which ex?”.
The young girls all texting while boys work their abs.
You‘ve got to have muscles to carry the slabs.
A Southern Cross sticker and matching tattoo.
Piercings-a-plenty and no bloody clue.
Hoons with their mismatched wheels (mags front, rims rear).
Doughnuts and drifting most nights of the year.
A defected car and a neglected dog,
No shortage of ciggies or junkfood or grog.
There’s a shed out the back to house their hydroponics.
Large tattooed women and their histrionics.
“I’m ADHD! I don’t care what you think!”
As she skulls down another high-energy drink.
Addictions are many, there’s smoking then patches.
Give up the pokies and take up the scratchers.
Homemade tattoos on the sides of their necks
Look like they’re drawn on with Mum’s Hobbytex.
Just in case Santa decides not to stop,
They’re off to buy crap from the Two Dollar shop.
They’re drunk or they’re stoned as they walk down the street,
Tots just in nappies, no shoes on their feet.
Quickly off-loading their hot stuff at Cashies,
Then straight ‘cross the road for McNuggets and Hashies.
They all shuffle home with their Red Bull and fags,
While the kiddies hang back just to practice their “tags”.
Our shoppers leave trolleys all strewn through the park,
For under-aged drinkers to trash after dark.
They’re chance of a present appears to be zero.
They’ll have to rely on their own Bogan hero.
He’s fat and he’s jolly, with lots of white hair.
It’s not Santa Claus, it’ the Bundaberg Bear!
Whitesnakes do it better ............ with a Christmas twist
2 comments:
I'm afraid, I'm very afraid xxxx
Speaking of home and ferals, look who shows up!!
just stopped by to catch up and wish you and Karen a Merry ChristmasSo glad your happy & well.
If you get a chance catch up with me on Instagram @sandraanne_igg, finally found an outlet for my photo,s
Much love Sandy xxx
Post a Comment