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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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If the Euro does go down the pan
If the Euro does go down the pan
Whoops - got the 2-for-1 offer by mistake
I shall unveil my dastardly plan
(bifurcation) I'll buy every cabbage I can
And restore threepenny bits Route 1
To resort to barter Route 2
Which clearly is smarter Route 2
Try stop staring at tits Route 1
Than selling French nukes to Iran Route 2
And write better lines if I can... End of route 1
There once was an impatient killer
Who was known to resemble Camilla
Her frightful coiffure
Which was less than demure
Made her look like a bad Phyllis Diller
Let us all now praise the spider
And resist the strong urge to deride her
For her wondrous web
From April to Feb.
Accounts for the insects inside her
Now it's less than a week until Christmas
I'll retire to my own private isthmus
Feast on egg nog and manta
Festooned with diamante
[cfm] Come on, that doesn't rhyme and hardly scans - how about
And, as a present from Santa,
[INJ] A touch of the shoehorn there?
Some glasses to cure my strabismus. Following INJ.
When your scansion is called into question
Be open to any suggestion
Do not post crappy lines
Or you'll have to pay fines
For causing grammatic indigestion
Dear Santa I've been a good boy
So what if I'm Jewish, not goy
I've said my baruchs
And kept off all hooches
A day of good kosher joy
If you want we could meet at the pub
For a pint and a nice syllabub (Slight failure of rhymage in line 4 of previous. Mind you, what English word rhymes with 'baruchs'?
[Knobbly] "loud heuchs"?
Hopefully there's trivia (as for rhying with baruchs - Tuques, kooks, Luke's, nukes, souks . . .)
About Oman or Bolivia
And something resembling fair grub.
I put some crushed ice in my shaker
And added a loaf from the baker
Three jiggers of rye
Two ounces of lye
I'm preparing to now meet my Maker
"NOW THE ENDING IS NEAR - PLEASE BEWARE!"
Said the pilot, when flying RyanAir
Then turbulence hit
And the purser said "Shit!"
And the queue for the loo, c'est la guerre.
There once was a cute little maiden
Whose talent was lovely hair braidin'
Her fingers flew faster
Than light - then disasteru
She saw that the colour was fadin'
A fella with long flowing locks
, a beret and some blue argyle socks
Approached me and said
"I would not be seen dead!
In anything but fancy frocks"
My tailor and I are in tune/b>
Since we danced by the light of the moon
He has measured me up
For the Tailor Dance Cup
Which takes place promptly at noon!
She liked her hair long and skirts short
And to drink: a small lime and port
But question 'her' gender ... interesting that the last ten limericks bar one have been started by the same two contributors ...
Is "she" really a bender?
I'd check but I'd end up in court
As we journey through life, we should try Excellent finish Darren
To have ready a good alibi
And to question the fitness
Of each expert witness
Because folks, given chance, often lie.

The passage from thought into words
Proves tricky for most geeks and nerds ...[cfm,CdM,R,pen] classy teamwork :)
To help their expression
Or fervid confession
They should sing it with flat minor thirds. Bluesy . . . .
Using mice and a furlong of string
I fashioned some low-budget bling
That I'd tie to my cat
In the way of a hat
Which made it quite easy to fling
Spare a thought for the down-trodden vole
Who is often confused with the mole
But the piles that they leave
If you look, won't deceive
'Cos it all comes out of a hole.
Tonight I will go to the pub
For the craic, a pint, and some grub
Perhaps a quick song
Then, if nothing goes wrong
I'll be throwing some shapes at a club
And if I'm in luck, then I'll pull
A fancy trick on a bull
It won't buck me off
If I don't start to cough
And my evening would then count as full.
When I do take the bull by the horns
The damn thing stands on my corns
But after some bellows
My misery mellows
'til I take 'nother Gin spiked with thorns...
My carpenter hammered and screwed
He was quite the industrious dude
He made me a closet
In which I deposit
Young Marc when he tries to be lewd :)
My mother is ninety today
So I'll sing her a song, if I may
"Knees up Mother Brown"
And she'll then go to town
For her regular 'roll in the hay'...
On the telly I saw Doctor Phil
Who said I should take this blue pill
But I took the red
My love life is dead
And the willy now lacks all its will
The firm Williams, Johnson & Dick This crowd is a v bad influence
Has taken a great deal of stick
But these upstanding men
Will, no doubt, come again
And give all your egos a prick. MOVING ON
A day in the country is nice
A breath of fresh air for my lice
And my worms like the view
As I visit the loo
And dispose of my dodgy fried rice.
I'm learning to trust my optician
But I still have a nagging suspicion
He's paid just to flatter
Which shouldn't much matter
As I already have perfect vision
With one of my ears on the floor
And the other one nailed to the door
I'm over-extended
Much more than intended
But my ears do not ring anymore
I think that my tongue's swelling up!
I find my pint I cannot sup
But if I had a straw
Or two, three, or more
I'd sip from this large china cup
One day we will run out of air
You'll inhale--and it just won't be there
And no-one will hear
Your screaming with fear
And there will be noone to care
I hope when I breathe my last breath
Of the fumes from that sweet crystal meth
That I'll be in the arms
Of the great Chelsea Charms
And that she is not clearly brain death.
I hope when I drop from this coil This theme is a bit deadly, isn't it?
And I'm under six feet of soil
That someone will say
"He was great in his day"
"But now he is starting to spoil"
I'll be pushing up daisies one day
Until then I'll be happy and gay
I'll dance right through life
With one not my wife [irach] LOL--great line.
Never caring what others might say
I'm hoping when I kick the bucket
It will make the front page in Pawtucket
My corpse they'll cremate
In a neighbouring state
And scatter the ash in Nantucket

Apols for 3 lines - I've never done that before AFAIR, but I had an uncontrollable urge.
There once was a doddy old fool
Who fancied a swim in the pool
He made a high dive
Then - heavens alive -
Trunks slipped, revealed fam'ly jewel
I am stuck in this game what 'bout you?
They should lock all of us in a zoo
They could then charge admission
And give no remission
Till at least twenty minutes past two
I haven't a clue what to say
My mind's in complete disarray
I feel so confused
By words I have choosed
I think I'll just go away
Four minutes and thirty-three seconds
It took to peel 43 almonds (tricky rhyming there, good luck to line 5)
Lemonds?
Now her marzipan beckons
So her pastry chef reckons
Pate d'amande sera bien charmante
Desperate attempt to escape the cage with the unconventional ABA*A*B* limerick rhyming scheme.
I've broken my grandma's sledgehammer
While breaking up rocks in the slammer
She was here years ago
Her offense? I don't know
Except she was a wife of Osama
The thing about being best friends
Should be that the fun never ends
How much fun it would be
If we went out to sea
And you dove and came up with the bends
Come on, you've got nothing to lose
From walking in A. Nother's shoes
When you've walked for one mile
You can pause for a while
And sing a song -- A. Nother's Blues
There once was a song 'bout a girl
Who had a wild fling with an earl
Though not born to the manner or manor, if you prefer
She checked in her planner
To find he was down as a churl
Amazing how few rhymes there are for "girl", as I found when writing a song who's hook line ends with it. Pain in the arse for lyricists...
burl, curl, earl, hurl, kerl, merl, merle, nerl, pearl, searl, searle, shirl, sperl, sperle, swirl, twirl, whirl
and my favorite, unfurl
There once was a song 'bout a boy
Who played every day with his toy
He'd first make it stand
With a flick of his hand
In a way that would give him much joy
Then after, he'd fold it away
[Mom] Perhaps I should have said useful rhymes :-)
His mom would scold him, and say
"You're just so self-centered!"
"Come on, get re-entered!"
I do not care to know how this one ends, thanks.
"And finish our last Wordfeud play!" [cfm]Have you got a pervert mind?
The flowers that bloom in the spring, don't you see? Moving swiftly on - I agree with cfm, the last couple were satisfying only one or two *ahem* 'players'. And neither of them were me.
[pen] Agreed. But that line needs shortening. Hope you don't mind if I go:
The flowers that bloom in the spring
Are saluting the birds on the wing
While the bees and the bears
Are putting on airs
and dancing the mambo to swing.
When needing three hots and a cot
I recommend my favorite spot
On Dartmoor it's found
Right behind that black hound
and it's ten quid up front for the lot!
An inscrutable girl from Japan
Went the distance with old Jackie Chan
But the man from Hong Kong
(Still wearing his thong)
Took one look at her mother and ran
I fancy a third cup of tea
But the caffeine does not fancy me
It gives me the jitters
My heart patters and pitters
And worst of all, I'll have to pee
I've three hundred papers to mark
Before I go hunting the Snark
So I'll tick here and there
(Which is all I can bear)
And the rest's just a shot in the dark
On Friday, my mind starts to wander
To racing my gold-plated Honda
Or a ride on my Harley ?
Singin' "Work" by Bob Marley
And dressing a bit like Jane Fonda.
Cross-dressing at weekends for fun
Was a priest's habit, dressed as a nun
To add to the thrill
One more layer of frill
Transmogrification is done
We all seem to relish cross-dressing
It's the sauce for much delicatessing
Once you've chucked on a frock
You're no longer a jock
Which you'll soon come to learn is a blessing
Many good poems lately, in many locations :)
My uncle has just lost his wig
Exclaiming, "I don't give a frig!"
He's now on his knees [Have to divulge that I'd rather hoped that Condiments may have driven the last limerick [given that cross-dressing has been done to death on these sites]. Having been gifted 'relish' and 'dressing' - 'sauce' was an obvious choice, as was 'delicatessing'. Vinaigrette, mayonnaise, aioli, mustard, chutney and ketchup, salt and pepper, etc. could have all played a part. Clearly - I was *overthinking* it. UK - you're fired :-)]
Begging, "Dear Chalky, please"
"Bend over and grunt like a pig..."
[MP] Coward. Name yourself.
So Easter was just wet and cold
[pen] Astonishingly, 'twas not I
My chocolate's all covered in mould
And the poor Easter Bunny
Has a nose red and runny
He's really a sight to behold!
There once was a maiden so chaste
She thought cous-cous had too strong a taste
And as for harissa
Her tongue and her kisser
Fell off, so she had them replaced
I'm wondering what I should wear
Three-piece suit, Highland kilt, or stark bare?
Birthday suits are not fancy
But, according to Nancy,
There's no need to iron or pair
It's been left on the side for a week
And quite frankly, it's starting to reek
It's time to progress
And clean up this mess
So let's finish and go take a leak...
It's Monday and morning star rise
What a bright day - now take my advise:
Take a lungful of air
Jug a two week's dead hare
And don ye a pirate disguise
The forecast for Sunday is wet
That won't stop me -- it never has yet!
I'll be down on the beach
Attempting to teach
The old dog some tricks for a bet
The problem with thinking too much
Is that it give one an ache in the crotch
Cos my organ for thought
Have mind which is fraught ... what a heap of twaddle #channelingRosie
But it's positive thinking, as such...
I have never been able to dance
Do you think you could teach me, perchance?
With both my left feet
I'm willing to cheat
And show how they do it in France
According to French legislation
Islam is an alien nation
But in banning the veil
They'll let every male
Get horny on seeing an Asian.
My legs are all twitchy today
They simply will swivel and sway
I've gone weak at the knees
I don't think it's the fleas
If you don't mind I'll fold them away
[UK, R, P, S, R] Applause

I'm truly beginning to rot
Oh golly, I've been such a clot
Trench foot has set in
I act like a cretin
although I will vow that I'm not.
I'm known for mixing my words
You may sample sweet coffee or turds
So stor a fart
Go tick up a part
And fly like those bautical nerds
A candle-lit dinner for two
Is a popular thing to do
So on Valentine's Day
I will ask if I may
"Is it washing or drying you'll do?"
A trip to the beach might be nice
The sun, sea and sand do entice
With bucket and spade
And a brolly for shade
Topped off with a nice strawb'ry ice
The brain ghosts I see are all green
And they all want to cut out my spleen
Which I have been venting
With zeal unrelenting
Though rarely can it be seen
A phantom is haunting my lung
And now and then spooking my tongue
It wafts through my larynx
Via my nasopharynx
My ability to speak has gone bung
If you see a spectre abroad
It's likely to be Our Sweet Lord
But if the spectre has horns
Then, as the day dawns,
You'll see it's Nick Clegg - best ignored.
[Rosie] neat ending :)
Behold this condensed apparition
A product of dark superstition
Alive or undead
Or all in your head
Like a thumping nocturnal emission. (Chalky) Tu es très gentille.
Applause please - the wraith has ignited
My interest in Scunthorpe United
A team which just lacks
Defence and attacks
Thank goodness my love's unrequited.
audience applauds Tuj's finale*
*points out sins of omission*
And now, on the thirteenth of June
I wonder if it is too soon
To start Christmas shopping
Or New Year bed hopping
Or flying my hot air balloon
The Eurozone's future is dodgy (Chalky) Deliciously disgraceful.
As My Big Fat Greek Wedding, so podgy
The drachma and lira
May soon reappear, a
Sure sign the economy's stodgy
I have some pesetas indoors
Which Angela Merkel deplores Last one v. good esp. CdM & Softers.
"Ein Volk, Reich, und Geld!"
She recently yelled
And on cue - Georgios Samaras scores - ... they still lost 2 - 4 though :(
Last night as I shaved my left armpit
The razor was causing me harm - shit! ... rising to the challenge
As it scraped of the hairs
And with them my cares
I took a large nick from my tit! coat!
Softers - would've been even better as 'darn tit'
[Chalks] You can't get a man to curse a boob - they love them too much.
It's green eggs and ham every day
Or it would be - if Seuss had his way!
His prandial obsession
Drives one to depression
And it ain't even kosher, oy, vey!
Sliced thin, on rye, with brown mustard
Or served with fish fingers and custard
Whenever it's served
It's still quite absurd
Not to savour a plump baby bustard.
Thai chicken and lemongrass soup
A melon - a nice cantaloupe
No, give me baked beans
(And you know what that means!)
We're back in the flatulence loop
I'll settle for boeuf a la croute
Served up in a black leather boot
Cooked rare, by a wench
That I'd like to clench
Resplendent in her birthday suit.
Kofta curry and pork vindaloo
Are the height of cuisine – in my view
But then, I am fond
Of a good Sussex Pond
And the minds of Essex girls too
[Raak] Ooooh, I haven't cooked one in ages. Time for a revival I think :)
We eat and we drink - pee and shit
Then we do it again -- is that it?
Well, also, there's work
And the ultimate perk
Reproduction - that helps a bit.
While sipping my coffee-to-go
I got stuck in ten feet of pure snow
But, when cometh the spring
Caffeine gave me a zing
And already I've started to glow
I’ll switch to the gill- and the fin-mode
'cause we've water all over our main road
The Met Office says
It's raining for days
So my hair-drier's hit "overload"
My strimmer has broken - alas!
Please borrow my strummer, it's world class!
It does make a racket
'Tho' it cost me a packet
And the one thing it baulks at is grass.
I'm struggling to find any meaning
With offering Free Window Cleaning
To some it's quite clear
It's because you can peer
up the nethers of anyone leaning.
There once was an elderly goat
Who'd spawned several offspring of note
The Grand Druid of Wales
Often ran off the rails
Then got stoned and sowed out his wild oat...
There once were five spicy girls singing
But now they sound flat and look minging
If Take That re-formed
Then let us be warned
Alarm bells should be set ringing
There once was a Samurai hero
Whose score in swordfighting was zero
Though lacking in skill
He managed to kill
Both Lulu and Helen Shapiro. Bastard!
There once was a girl that could sing
(or so she once thought) anything
But once on the "X"
She lowered her kecks
And sang "Desert Song" a la Sting
The thing about artisan bread
Is its guaranteed freedom from lead
Instead you will find
That it makes you go blind
So I'll eat Hovis® instead
A vacation that is what we need
To drink beer, and cider, and mead
Relax by the pool
Eating gooseberry fool
Did anyone bring any weed?
I woke today with a sore throat
So I chewed on a piece of fried stoat
And to my surprise
I've a three octave rise
In a ditty I sing with my goat
This soup, with its noodles and chicken
Is good for the ill and flu-stricken
And even, some say
Keeps the lurgi at bay
In need though of Rum to un-thicken
When treating a bronchial infection
You'd better obey this direction
To draw out the phlegm
Just shout out "A-hem!"
And prepare for social rejection.
When drawing your last living breath
Here's what you can do to cheat death
Grab the Grim Reaper's scythe
With a gesture most blithe
Shouting, "Is this a knife?", like Macbeth
If you can't tell a knife from a spoon
You'll get classified as a loon
So just use a fork
When screwing a cork
And, yes, you are a buffoon
I uncorked a cru Beaujolais
With a vigneron from Régnié
But in getting my glass
I fell on my arse
Hidden text( M Logiciel) I am disappointed, as they say, that you have not pointed out that the first two lines don't rhyme.
So I guess I won't drink it today.
Down at the pub when I ordered my beer [M Rosé] c'est un petit point contesté, peut être.
[Software] By no stretch of poetic license does that scan into a limerick. I suggest:
Software - Down the pub when I ordered my beer
The barman said, "Be of good cheer!"
You're mighty good lookin'
Hidden text[Rosie] It's a subtlety that I think even French poets would get away with. Similar to 'glass' and 'arse', which don't rhyme terribly well for the majority of English speakers (even in England). It all worked out to be a good Limerick though, IMHO :-)
You do really good cookin'
So just maybe you should work here!
Who in their right mind would say
That duckin' an' divin' don't pay
For evading the law
(as a thug, thief or whore)
(not to mention the great CIA...)
I've invented a new kind of chair
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