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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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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
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