Merry Christmas, readers and welcome to Auntie Roger’s special festive season advice column. Today Auntie unwraps the good tidings and lights up our lives with some helpful suggestions for those with festive dilemmas. Happy holidays and be careful out there.
Dear Auntie Roger, So I’m decorating the Christmas tree and Grandma comes into the room and complains about how my candy cane and baubles are hanging. Why can’t she get in the Christmas spirit?
- Festive Grandpa.
Dear FG, get off the ladder and never wear those Stubbies up there again. You’ll frighten the grand-children and scar them for life.
– Auntie Roger.
Dear Auntie Roger, I’ve found this amazing fishing spot off Tamaki Drive and I go there every time I’m in Auckland. The fish of all species are teeming at my feet. Only problem is, there’s always a lot of on-lookers standing around, clearly jealous of my fishing prowess and incredible luck. Some hurl insults. What’s up with folk, can’t a bloke enjoy a peaceful afternoon out, putting food on the table?
– Happy Hooker.
Dear HH, Get out of Kelly Tarlton’s now and don’t ever go back with your fishing rod. – Auntie.
Dear Auntie Roger, The Baron had me dead in his sights, he reached for the trigger to pull it tight. Why he didn’t shoot, well, we’ll never know, or was it the bells from the village below? – Snoopy.
Dear Snoopy, the Baron did not want to spend Christmas filling out the paperwork. You need resource consent to abandon a bi-plane on public land and an extra exemption certificate to cause a traffic hazard on a designated public holiday. The council is clamping down on private fireworks displays and noise control are monitoring the decibel levels on the ground and in the atmosphere. OSH is not happy with the harness and headgear protection and Greenpeace is protesting airplane debris falling into the river and choking the penguins. – Auntie Roger.
Dear Auntie Roger, in your reply to Snoopy, why did you talk of penguins in the river.
We all know penguins live in the ocean. Your credibility is questionable.
– Confused, Tauriko.
Dear Confused, shouldn’t you be more concerned about a beagle flying a war plane? – Auntie.
Dear Auntie, we are staging a nativity play in Hamilton. But having trouble finding talented cast to audition. Any ideas? – Director.
Dear Director, Yes I can imagine it would be difficult to find three wise men and a virgin in Hamilton. But asses should be plentiful. – Auntie Roger.
Dear Auntie Roger, that last letter was a pretty old joke. Don’t you have any fresh material? – Critical, Brookfield.
Dear Critical, unless you are wise or a virgin, you can’t help us here. – Auntie.
Dear Auntie Roger, how did all these letter writers know to write to your Christmas Special-themed letters? I didn’t see the idea promoted in previous editions of the Sun. – Perplexed, Papamoa.
Dear Perplexed, it’s the magic of Christmas! Cheers! – Auntie Clairvoyant Roger.
Dear Auntie, Why do we wish people a Merry Christmas from the bottom of our hearts? What’s wrong with the top, or even the middle, of our hearts? – Feliz.
Dear Feliz, I can’t tell you, off the top of my head. – Auntie Roger.
Dear Auntie, can you imagine a worse way to die, than being scalped?
– Kemosabe, Katikati.
Dear Kemosabe, not off the top of my head. – Auntie.
Yo Auntie, dem mofos decked ma hall wif dis ho Holly dem comin atcha wid dis season been jolly. Nek some Don cruising wit dat apparel. Watup wid dat?
– Nat King Rap.
Dear Mr Rap, I suggest you troll the ancient yule tide, Carol, before she lodges a “cap” in yo ass. – Auntie R.
Dear Auntie Roger, bring us some figgy pudding, bring us some figgy pudding, bring us some figgy pudding.
– Mmm, Mount.
Dear Mmm, I guess you won’t go till you get some. But you should stop repeating yourself yourself. – Auntie.
If you have a burning question, ask Auntie Roger. All replies are discreet and only shared with auntie’s closest friends, the 140,000 people who live in the Western Bay of Plenty and have a letterbox with The Sun in it. No-one else need know.
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