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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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That has lived in a small cardboard box
Been steeped well in beer
And thus of good cheer
While I am a bagel and lox
I'm sorry, I can't hold your coat
I'm trying to de-worm the goat
If you hold it for me
Making sure it won't pee
I can shove the pill right down its throat "I'll see what I can do, Mr 'erriot"
Today there is wind, rain and flood
And tomorrow brings storm, hail and mud
The day after, thick snow
With a strong Arctic blow It ain't gonna happen, folks.
The year (well, thus far) is a dud
It pains me to point out the truth
But you're getting quite long in the tooth
If I might be so bold
You're quite startlingly old
But no longer the once-uncouth youth. forsooth
I won't tell you a secret I know
Instead, watch this pantomime show
The clue's in the name
Of the bellowing dame
But the answer lies deep down below
A logician, a priest, and a Scot
Was the Reverend Hamish McStott
A writer and thinker
And moderate drinker
Yet best known for his huge you-know-what
Now what is this thing that's so big?
Because bragging is so infra dig
An item of dress?
Or a way to impress?
No, an enormous big flying pig
I exist on a diet of fruit
Which I store in a Wellington boot
The sludge in the toe
I gobble like a sow
Whilst grunting chacun à son goût
I'm really enjoying this pie
Though it has left me wondering why
The ingredients list
Was so widely dissed
What's wrong with dried tadpoles and larvae of flesh fly? (a big and nourishing pie it was...)
When apples and cherries we mix
Something we do just for kicks
We make lemonade
To sip in the shade
And whittle ourselves cocktail sticks A bit lacklustre. Eyes'n'teeth next time, guys'n'gals, eyes'n'teeth!
It's an actor's poor life that I lead
I can barely afford smoking weed
While learning the Bard
Is not all that hard
It would help if I first learnt to read
I've told you a number of times
That I'll never be caught for my crimes
I'm so cunning and smart
That they call me a tart
Moi? I'm the Macavity of Mimes For when a crime's discovered then Macavity's not there!
My mother is losing her mind
Because of a contract she signed
In which she agreed (Pooh) Does that include your own crimes of scansion?
To always wear tweed
And a necklace of smoked bacon rind
We shall soon start the season of Lent
When the rules of abstention are bent
To make us believe
It is now time to heave
BMI by some fifty percent... http://www.seriouseats.com/2011/01/culinary-ambassadors-swedish-semla-fastlagsbulle-pastry-bun-lent-shrove-tuesday.html
Still my Body Mass Index is low
My ribcage is always on show
My skinny white arms
Are the least of my charms
Whilst the best may be felt down below
The means by which pussycats purr
Are shrouded in mys'try and fur
Have they motors inside?
Or a resonant hide?
Do they blend a buzz with a whirr?
I've a large pot of organic glue
That's made from the hooves of zebras and gnu
‘Endangered’, you say ?
I've seen herds in Calais
Where there's lions and elephants too
I've a question for someone who knows
About pobbles and their lack of toes:
Are they toeless all day?
Does it hinder their play?
At darts, do they get extra goes?
[P,P,N,R] delightful stuff :)
It's true what they say about poker
That they play with a pack with no Joker
That your face must be blank
Like a true mountebank
Lose a mill? Oh, that's just mediocre.
If you play at pontoon or roulette
Make sure that you use your lorgnette
To distinguish between
The black, red and green
And to ensure that you place the right bet
The Ides of March did for Caesar
As noted by some Stratford geezer
It turned out his mate
Finished forth his sad fate (et tu, Brute?)
With a staged and dramatic crowd-pleaser
While oop in the north, sat Macbeth
Ignoring the portents of death
When Birnam Wood came
He was right in the frame
In the long run though gave up his breath...
It is springtime - or so I was told,
So why is my sun lounge so cold ?
The air from Siberia
Makes the temp so inferior
Now fetch me a servant to scold!
My lawn's taken over by moss
But really, I don't give a toss
Roll on the next drought
When the sun is about
'cause tonight we will play the lacrosse...
There are the rules how to pick up a girl
There are rules how to pick up a girl
Keep back straight, bend at knees, never curl
When she's hoisted on board
Don't lean backward or for'ard
And present with Les Pêcheurs De Perles
But beware if you pick up a man
In a dress, thigh-high boots, and a tan
For that thong will conceal
That his balls made of steel
Are prosthetic and his real name is Anne.
Transvestism is such a drag
That seldom of it do folk brag
They prefer to disguise
Then show up with surprise
When you push them down off of a crag!
Once again we are fooled by the spring
And the thought of the joys it will bring
Ooh, I dunno
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