Forum Discussion

Hello Christine
I have such a great response to this poem by Bob Miller, Mungar, QLD

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I woke up Sunday morning
And my head was racked with pain
As this big bloke with a hammer
Slowly pounded at my brain

And then the missus said “You mongrel!
Down that pub with blue and dingo
Well today you’ll pay your penance
Cause you’re taking me to bingo”

I said “Bingo? What a rotten thought
How would I live it down?
If my mates from up the pub found out
They’d laugh me out of town!”

But still my head was thumpin’
As I pondered on my plight
Yeah I’d have to go to bingo
Just to get some peace and quiet

As I sneaked into the parish hall
My head was hanging low
And a hundred dear old ladies
Were all staring down our row

They thought I was the victim
Of some ambush, or a fight
When they ask ‘How are you going?’
And ‘are you sure that he’s alright?’

Well I just sat there breathing slowly
Till the caller gave a shout
And he didn’t have to say ‘eye’s down’
Cause mine were hanging out

‘Well our first game is a full house
And good luck to all today’
Then he called out ‘legs eleven’
And the game was underway

Next, 17 and 48 and 6 and 22
Well I just stamped them with me stamper
Like the dear old ladies do

And my card filled up so quickly
I just sat there staring, mute
And when he called out ‘kelly’s eye’
I said ‘hey that’s it, you bloody beaut’

Well they came and checked me ticket
Forty bucks I did attain
And the ladies said ‘you poor young thing
We hope that helps your pain’

Yeah, but when I’d won the fifth game
Well the smiles were wearing thin
And I saw two grannies snarling
Where there once had been a grin

Two hundred eyes were watching
From behind those wrinkled cheeks
Cause the jackpot game had not gone off
For nigh on seven weeks

And they watched my every movement
As the caller gave a call
And my stamper, like a hammer
Echoed round that frigid hall

Now I know the hated feelings
That unwanted fortune brings
But I don’t write the numbers
I just stamp the bloody things

And I felt this premonition
Sort of creeping up my spine
As I stamped the final number
And I quietly said ‘er it’s mine’

You could not believe the bedlam
That erupted through that crowd
You’ve never heard old ladies
Use four letter words out loud

They called me all the low down things
Threw cake upon my shirt
And this sweet old dear beside me said
‘I hope that bloody hurt’

Then they stormed out of that ballroom
As they would the gates of hell
The last one swearing loudly
‘You’re a mongrel and you smell’

But I soon forgot that torment
$1500 eased the pain
So you can bet your bottom dollar
I’m coming back to play again

Cause playing bingo is easy
And you pick up heaps of dough
When I tell the boys down at the pub
I’m sure they’re going to go

I might even throw me job in
Things will never be the same
Now I know this way of getting rich
Just find a bingo game.

Hahaha...love this poem Ron. I am sure they will enjoy it! C

I do trivia with my low care residents. the residents keep asking for more.can be time consuming finding the trivia. There are some good websites where trivia can be sourced from.