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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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And using the catflap, she stuck!
Thenceforth to Maid Marian's for tea [last line .. worth the wait. Nice one SM]
A generous hostess is she
A Battenburg cake
(The marzipan's fake!)
Goes well with a glass of Chablis
In the pub with my friend Little John
I thought 'What the hell's going on?'
For he'd got out his staff
And then just for a laugh
He poked it up my sit-upon.
Lovely!
Will Scarlett's a rum sort of fellow [PPNcR] Heehehehehehe
"Come chase me!", he's oft-heard to bellow.
Then he shins up a tree
And cries, "Come, follow me!"
But sadly they're all far too yellow
At the wedding of Alan-a-Dale
The couple wore matching chain mail
Her chastity belt
Could hardly be felt
And his, back-to-front, had a tail.
I can hardly believe I wrote that. Inexcusable
[pen] I can. Excusable. Funny
The green-fingered Sherriff of Nottingham
Grew cannabis plants, and was potting 'em [pen] Digusting! I hardly know where to put myself. Somewhat like Alan-a-Dale, it seems!
When in burst the cops
And said "Are these hops?"
He said "Yes, well done for spotting 'em." (Ladies) Can't have too much femfilth.
Sir Guy of Gisbourne gets quite cross
When you stand in the way of his hoss
"Begone, varlet!" he'll shout
"Lest I give thee a clout"
"And into my dungeons you toss."
Now Robin, that man with the hood
Claimed his motives were thoroughly good
Steal from rich, give to poor
(Unlike Osborne and more)
Then make merry with maids in the wood.
And as for that wicked King John
Who thought that the battle he'd won
Would earn him respect
Instead, he got decked
So the limerick game could go on
In trying to unscramble an egg
I soon spent an arm and a leg [Quen] Liked that - good finish!
My marbles got lost
My salad got tossed
And I noticed you'd emptied my keg ...
Though she knew he was called Jack the Ripper
And she'd heard what he did to young Pippa
She couldn't resist
A hazardous tryst
So thank God he got stuck in his zipper
[M, C, S and P] Nicely done, if I say so myself. Let's crack open some pre-war ginger beer!
This bottle of old ginger beer why not?
Was brewed on the banks of the Wear
In nineteen-oh-two
In a stevedore's shoe
No wonder it tastes rather queer
*flees*
The worst thing to say to a Swede
Is to ask him: "Just how do you breed?"
His reply, you will see
Just between you and me
Involves ABBA and herrings. And mead!
The sunburn that glows on my neck
Will keep my libido in check
And apart from the spots
That I've got by the lots
There's the fact I'm a banking exec.
But really, the public should thank us
We are, after all, quite high rankers
And we haven't, quite yet
learned the alphabet
but we're primo at being bankers!
This first line should set us alight
Make us shiver, if we've done it right
And further additions
or even omissions
Well made, yield the greatest delight.
Rise up, all you left-handed folks!
And publish your best rated jokes
But say nothing sinister
Or I'll call your minister
And believe me, that threat is no hoax.
A monk and a rabbi ate dinner
of kerosene and of paint thinner
This combustible fare
Consumed on a dare
Made one nor the other a winner.
Nice finish, Kagje.
A day full of procrastination
May contain brief bouts of fascination
F'rinstance with clips
Of wiggly hips
Or else some discombobulation wipes brow
A chihuahua and terrier cross
Decided that he was the boss
So the dachshund got fired
The golden retired
And the rest ... ? Not one gives a toss.
There once was a cat from Andorra
Whose whiskers grew morer and morer
Till this Pyrenees mog
(Real name Quentin Hogg)
Belted her one - she got sorer
When Mitzi took umbrage, she aimed .. u s a perhaps? ..
Through her sights at the one man she blamed
His scathing reviews
Was not ment to amuse
But some other fellow got framed.
Never admit you're from Chatham
In New Hampshire, the same goes for Stratham
But if you're from Bath
Yer good for a larf
When it started to rain in Bath
Ummm, shall we finish the previous Limerick first?
Never admit you're from Chatham
In New Hampshire, the same goes for Stratham
But if you're from Bath
Yer good for a larf
Unlike Strasbourg (once Argentoratum)

When it started to rain in Bath
I outgrabe like a mome rath
But my feeling of whimsy
Was fleeting and flimsy forcing attempt denied
As I fled from the borogove path
I once lunched in Stow-on-the-Wold
My starter was greasy and cold
The main course inedible
The bill was incredible
And the walls were all covered in mold. Sorry about that not finishing last time. I guess one should not play when one is extremely tired, even if for odd reasons, one cannot sleep.
I once gave a farmer a lift [Phil] I am insulted! The Strasbourgeois are lots of fun!
He just had some garlic, and whiffed
I deployed my ejector
To a vertical vector [nights] I'm sure they are, given the quantity of beer brewed there. I was simply struggling for a rhyme :-)
Then launched into orbit quite swift…
Tomorrow the Moon will return
From its weekend out with Saturn
While the moon was away Excuses, excuses... :)
The earth did decay
So perhaps it is best to adjourn?
There's nothing as fast as a cheetah
So says my feline speed-o-meter
But if you want slow
(So slow it don't show) internal rhyme alert...
Watch lichen — a sloth record-beater.
Today, I am dyeing. It's black... (re-dying faded black clothes black)
As a glass of black mild Nutty Slack
Its minute albedo
Is just right for sado- ...that was a tricky one, Rosie.
-lin, Matching my nice Chapeau Claque.
(gil) Yeah, a bit clever-clever, but there's speedo, libido, paedo, lido, credo, Toledo.
All my clothes have been eating by moths
And my shoes have been slothing by sloths Making a feature out of the quirk of KS's line
And as for my hats
They're all nested by bats
So they think I've been haunting by Goths
We are what we eat we have heard
So I'm mostly tomatoes and curd
And I'm a nice curry
I eat in a hurry
And for me, olives are the last word
The practice of oenomancy
Is one that the Romans did fancy
By sharing a cask
An enquirer could ask
Which actions were safe and which chancy
A strapping young fellow named Clancy
When working the clubs was called Nancy
He strapped while she stripped
And flopped while he flipped
For the clients who all took his fancy
That all-soft'ning o'erpowering knell
Means you're on a journey to Hell Not you, m'dear.
Slip into the mire
To a fate that is dire
And our trip down the hill ´s going swell.
There's a gap in my force-field of love
Through which demons and succubi shove
It's a worm-hole of lust
And romance turns to dust
Which flies to the clouds up above.
This journey could go on forever
And is surely not worth the endeavor
For when we arrive
From a very long drive
There's been a change in the weather
There's a feeling - or is it just me? -
That this verse will stop dead at line three
I'm not one to doubt.








If I reincarnate as a puffin
I'll mulishly call myself Muffin
On the island of Lundy
My partner and me
Will nest-build from navels with fluff in.
We have heard that the winner takes all [T, R, R, S, B]Excellent, free drinks tonight!
But don't fret should the wealth start to gall
Cash can't bring you joy
Unless you're called Roy
But it's better than bugg*r all
[Softers] If I may be so bold - you are significantly short-syllabled and arrhythmic in both your last entries .. thought you'd sussed this game by now ;-)

Marc - The Scansion-class this Fall semester
Will be taken by the head jester [Chalks] I disagree, it does work.
The Rhymer's a clown
The jester will frown
At the way that these matters obsessed her.
Hidden textIt's a jestess.

All our efforts to set the bar higher [Softers] Hope we can agree to disagree. ;-)
have us jumping from skillet to fire
Where we are consumed (Funny Girl) You're right. I'll have a word with him next time he's over.
All pedants presumed [Chalks] Naturally :o)
Class dismissed and now also ceasefire.
Debate is a most healthy thing
At the Darby and Joan Club in Tring
It helps them stay young
And grease up their tongue
So with their friends they can swing
In Somerset, Dorset and Devon
They're always in bed by eleven
But the people of Hants
Are just putting on pants
And they won't be back home until seven
In the flat agricultural east
All cult'ral activity has ceased
The turnips are ready
So tasty but thready
Fit neither for man nor for beast
So The Ashes will grind to an end
With rain being England's best friend
And Broady and Swann
Turn their sprinklers on
As they've more than a penny to spend No takers all week? Ah well.
While spending an evening in Kettering (Chalky) We can lose with grace, but not win.
Perfecting my copperplate lettering
I blotted my book
(As the locals say,"fook!")
Putting paid to my hopes for its bettering.
My computer has not crashed today
Unusual for Windows®, they say
And although I'm pleased
I know if I sneezed
My screen would collapse and turn grey...
Good morning all poets it's time
To celebrate autumn in rhyme
Write of 'mellow' and 'fruit'
And rabbits to shoot
With apples to pick in their prime
But what do you say of the rain?
Well, it's wet and it goes down the drain
It hangs out in pools I thought 'puddles' would be too hard to rhyme. You're welcome
And obeys fluid rules
Before long it will come back again.
The rain in Spain, so they say
Mainly falls on the plain every day
But the Sierra Nevada Some very dubious climatology here.
(the one in Granada)
Is fine all year round, so "Olé!"
While enjoying a Café au Lait
I was asked, "Are you well?". I said "Très!"
Mais le cuillère est bent
Et la tasse 'as une dent - just googled le cuillère to check my schoolgirl french. Ooh la kama sutra la!
Mais le goût, je vous dis, est OK.
*applauds*
*Applauds the limerick; winces at the Franglais*
[Phil] Then I reckon we need more practice...
Aujourd 'hui, le naming de parts
comme les fruits pour le making of tarts
Will commence avec plum
Bien sur, mon ol' chum
Mais ils font tous nos dents plutôt schwartz Aha! See what I did there.
Demain machen wir ein gateau
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