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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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Though many do so, and by force.
I'd like to replace "experimentation" with "negotiation" in that last limerick. :-)
They're preparing for this year's Grand Prix
We'll be fighting on land and at sea
From Le Mans to Dubai
Yeongam and Shanghai
And what's left of the old Aral Sea.
Oscar, my dear, your red rug
Is home to many a bug
Tho' to you it is cosy
It's hellish for Rosie
Who itches and cannot get snug.
The slanderous comments above
And the full implications thereof
Are herewith rescinded
In manner long-winded
Devoted to brother and sisterly love...!
The Conclave's elected Pope Mary,
Who plans to be Jesus's fairy
A pontiff with wings
Who can do magic things
But the giveaway is - she's so hairy
Bugger - insert quotation marks around "she's" if you would
The puff of white smoke tells us all
That the popemobile's just hit the wall
But look out, now it's black! (...the smoke of course...)
Is Benedict back?
Or a reincarnated John-Paul?
When tales are retold you will know
That the heroes of long, long ago
Committed great deeds
While riding their steeds
Yelling "Woe-Hi-Di-Hi-Hi-Di-Hoe!"
In the Alps they are yod'ling a lot,
While their cheese gently boils in the pot
Such stereotyping
And Franco-Swiss griping
Is likely to get someone shot
Italians, in gen'ral, are charming
Their generals, though, are alarming
Their finances are scary
Signoras faces so hairy
Which is why generals find them disarming
But the Greeks are, truth to tell,
Descendants of heaven and hell .. a tad short on footage Pablo but think we can make it work ...
Just now it's the latter (Chalks) 'E fough' itza peon-unny recipe, dinny?
Though only a matter
That Cyprus will go down as well
A Monegasque makes a fine friend
With big pots of money to lend
He dresses in green
And bows to the queen
So you'll see where it's all going to end!
Are you ready to start your new life?
As side-kick to old Mack the Knife
But as opera's go
This threepenny show
Is more suited for somebody's wife.
Sorry, for got the line break!
I chanced upon Lady Godiva
Who said; "If you'll give me a fiver,
I'll cut off my hair
But I hope you're aware
on a horse, I'm not such a good driver.
At luncheon with old Friar Tuck
We dined on a stew of braised duck
We saved the skimmed fat
To give to the cat
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
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