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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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Let's all dine elsewhere
On a hamster eclair
That's preferably shaven - not furred.
If we are what we eat I'm an ox
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

It's a fact I don't know
'cause they've stepped on my toe
And I think a lament I will sing.
I think we have heard it before
And we'll hear it again, I am sure
It is on the "tee-vee"
In the tabloids, I see
And followed on You Tube what's more
It's April the First, take great care
For Lurkers and snipers beware
And old men in coats
Selling tuppenny groats
Who, furthermore, really aren't there.
There once was a farmer who said:
"By golly, I'd come out ahead
if I planted my corn
at the first glimpse of dawn
Instead of just lying in bed." oblig.
There's a terrible price to be paid
For allowing the curtains to fade
For your neighbours will see
All your efforts to pee
Into cans marked "Homemade Lemonade"
Tomorrow's the day before Sunday
And in turn, that's the day before Monday oblig.[C, p, S, R, T] I larfed out loud.
It is, so to speak
The end of the week
Which means that today is today??
Let's hope that it is not too late
To find someone to go on a date
'Though with whom they'll go
It is best they don't know
Because Ringwraiths have just sealed their fate.
While dancing an Argentine tango
With the chair of my favorite quango
I feigned mild surprise
When offered third prize
In the World Championship of fandango...
I'm dancing far better than singing
For the music's so loud my head's ringing
With my clogs flying high
And a slap on the thigh
My suspenders buttons are pinging
As I waltzed with a gorgeous young filly
Who had won more than twelve Prix Caprilli
Her hooves got entangled
(They were polished and spangled)
And the judges' mien turned quite chilly.
I'm in need of a half-pint of tea
Milk and five sugars for me
With my pinky outstretched
In a posture far-fetched
I'm an upper-class builder, you see
I am sure Easter Bunnies lay eggs
I am sure that the French eat frog's legs
But grenouilles à la Pâques
Mixed with various tabacs
Is surely against EU regs.
This Friday is s'posed to be good
'Though why, I have ne'er understood
Getting nailed to a tree
Is not my cup of tea
And He would agree, if he could. Matthew 26:39
Palm Sunday, it came and it went
And I on tequila was bent
This was not a good way
On that most Holy Day
To do what you can't during Lent.
For breakfast there's chocolate egg
Then a cute Easter lamb's roasted leg
For tea chocolate bunny
(Bought with your chocolate money !)
And as 'nightcap' a chocolate beer keg...
We don't have resources for that
When brayed by an aristocrat
Sounds more than just mean
In fact quite obscene
And confirms that the speaker's a prat.
My airship has sprung a small leak
It hisses away as I speak
And we're losing our height I thought it best not to use 'altitude'
Shed weight as we might
'Tis probably best to say 'Eek'
My bungee just needs a small tweak
To cancel its nerve-shredding shriek
When I leap into space
All my fears I efface
But there might be a small "trouser leak"
To Ypres we journey next week
Me grandad's gold watch we shall seek
He was killed by a bomb
(Though he died with aplomb)
Whilst winning a game of bezique
There might be just time for one more
Ere we stagger toward the pub door
Which just won't keep still
And the floor lean uphill
And my balance do sheem rather poor
Oh, show me the way to go home
It's quite near the Milleneum Dome
Where gentrification
Improved the location
And you'll not see one garden gnome.
I showed my heart to the doctor   Notes: 1. (c) L. Cohen; 2. Stressed on "I", "heart", and "doc". 3. Not the easiest rhyme, but plenty of possibilities.
But my advances seemed to have shocked her
My wild EKG
And advanced Housemaid's Knee
Meant my chances were slim to verkakte
So I chose a complete transplantation
But the doc heard me say "a castration."
I've a great sense of loss
But I don't give a toss
Let alone an insemination.
Here I stand with my new bits and pieces
Two curbs and some liquefied fæces
The doc says I'll be better
With bowels that are wetter
Though my waistline constantly increases...
When pond'ring a change of one's gender
And update to parts oh so tender
Make sure that you choose
To gain, not to lose
All the bits that will scream "I'm a bender!"
If gard'ning were truly a joy
It would not make my back scream out "Oi!"
And the bloody great weeds
Which nobody needs
Would leave here and plague οἱ πολλοὶ.
αι'β ντισαιντεντ του τιτχ μαισελφ Γρεικ
There once was a line so correct
Even Rosie found if perfect
It's yet to be written (Softers) What's come over you? That line is so awful
Oh dearie dearie me ... yet another dreary self-referential limerick which has already been cocked up. Thought we'd moved on from these. Well I now qualify as a grumpy old woman so I dare - without fear or favour - to start anew!
Chalky - I once met a Somerset farmer
I confess, he was rather a charmer
Or should I say "she" ?
For we failed to agree
It's a gender dysphoric drama [Rosie, Chalks] perhaps I should have spelt "it" correctly and hyphenated per-fect, I think it scans then.
I can fit a whole pint in my mug Hastily re-written to avoid leaving "pint" at the end of the line!
Straight-sided, curvy or jug (Softers) Yeah, all right. :-)
Beer, cider or tea
Or fermented sheep's pee
And it pours with an audible "glug"
I've decided to teach myself Greek (which is what that line of squiggles earlier was a transliteration of)
Be a scholar, and not just a geek
But my transliteration [Raak] Ah, I couldn't for the life of me work out what the 2nd word was supposed to be. Why not use a δ (delta) instead of ντ?
Because in modern Greek, δ is a voiced "th", and "ντ" is used for the "d" sound.
Brings much obfuscation
So now a new teacher I'll seek. Sorry for screwing things up but my neighbour (who is Greek) told me it was an incorrect line without sense...
My friend said her love was platonic
I said "Yeah, and my screwdriver's sonic!" [Raak] Fair enough. I only did Ancient Greek.
Night and day we then screwed
Yet all sex we eschewed
Our IKEA decor is hedonic.
A weekend, a flat-pack and you...
O, think of the things we could do!
Crawl around on the floor
With the one you adore
Seeking that ill-usive screw
When it comes to assembling a bed
It will help if you stand on your head
With your tool in your hand
You will soon make it stand
And may finish your screwing - 'nuff said...
As I lay in my bed, fast asleep
My eyebrows endeavoured to creep
Through the hole in the floor
Seeing quite a bit more
Than Tom could when he too did Peep
The Energy Minister said:
"Uranium decays into lead"
And wind is erratic
So let's be Socratic
Shall we burn solar panels, instead?
The barbecue season approaches
Ah! The smell of fried ants and roaches!
The carbonised meat
The gale, the sleet
And the jibes from the toffs in their coaches.
Burnt meat is my favorite dish!
But have you tried decomposed fish?
With its fragrant bouquet
(Which will not go away)
It's really quite edible...ish.
I'm checking the facts about you
But Google's removed quite a few
You've got something to hide!
(Slipped a rozzer in snide ?!)
Never mind, I'll recheck with Yahoo!
Is that drone flying overhead yours?
And if so - would you kindly press 'pause'?
Or 'fast forward', at least
For I don't like that beast
Or the stains that it leaves in my drawers.
This summer I think I will go
In search of the midnight sun's glow
So north I will trek
Dressed as a Dalek
On skis - but they're just for show
This year it's the beach for me!
Sex, sun, sand and the sea!
Then clubbing all night!
'Till I wake, with a fright
, A rash and a bed full of wee
The best lines are so lavatorial
True since times immemorial
This toilet-based verse
May sound turgid, or terse
But can ofttimes sound quite professorial
On my birthday: a new record from Yes Trudat.
I've poor musical taste, I confess.
These aged rock bands
With their wrinkly old hands
Are mostly now dead, at a guess
[Pablo] You'd be wrong though. 8o)
The genteel folk of Milngavie
Have a predisposition to spy
While the neds of Bearsden
Keep mum in a pen .. haven't a clue what you're all on about ...
And the nellies of Niddrie just cry. Me neither.
This, or something like it, is what was intended:

The genteel folk of Milngavie
Are enamoured of actor Bill Navie
They see him on telly
Their legs turn to jelly
He's even a hit in Mumbavie.

Maude was a Tourette's Syndrome duck
Who's offbeat quack made people say "f*ck" [Rosie] Sorry. *shrugs*
She'd then nod and twitch ... preferred ours -sorry Rosie ;)
This web-footed bitch
Was she fowl mouthed or just full of pluck?
I turned on the water and found
Some colombian roast - freshly ground
Mixed in a pot
With some added shallot
Its taste is both piquant and round.
So what on the menu today?
A Gooseberry/Duck Beak paté!
A durian mélange
Served with whisky blancmange
Mixed together at 10 quid a tray
Olé!
Hark! Hear the words of the chorus
For speech, set to music, can't bore us although I draw the line at Monteverdi's "L'Incoronazione di Poppea"
If Thatcher had sung
Of the plight of the young No idea where this one is going to end up
She'd have seemed less like Tyrannosaurus or
Hidden textShe might not have seemed quite so dolORous
Bravo! Good finish.
Throw the switches now Igor, be quick!
Give the Tesla coils just one more flick
Hidden text[Stevie] Phew! I was so unsure of that last line. Thanks :)
My morbid creation
Gets a tingling sensation
And a very enjoyable prick.
There's a part of me just wants to die
For the life of me I don't know why
But I can't really ask it
Why the yen for the casket
Affects ulnars and both radii.
I'm feeling it deep in my bones Good finish, Rosie
It's time to change all my ringtones
Their Wagnerian gloom (pen) You are nice lady.
Bears a portent of doom
That I don't want to hear from my phones.
Oooh I liked the way that one worked out. Nice going, everyone else.
This morning as I had my shower
The lack of shampoo made me glower
So I grabbed the carbolic
lest I turn vitriolic
Now my black hair smell like 'Sweet and sour'.
Motivation will come from within
Get that right and you're certain to win
Check Facebook and Twitter
As you sit on the shitter No point warning you in advance of that, was there? You all knew it was coming. Far too hot for a coat.
Rise up and be strong! Or fall in.
By unceasingly talking in riddles
You can get away with most fiddles
But the clear light of reason
In this rainy dry season
Should help exclude most muddy middles
Last time I regressed to the mean
I created a terrible scene
'Cos I was once bimodal
And hacking the code'll
Make everyone turn red (or green?)
Encrypted persistence persist
Just try saying that when you're pissed! UK English meaning of Pissed (n.) in a state of intoxication through alcohol.
Saliva will flow
Whilst your cheeks flush and glow
Inspissated inspectors insist!
A great deal of effort is spent
To decide what to give up for Lent
And if you give up
Giving up have a cup
of Darjeeling with Rhum, max percent.
I can feel there's a storm coming up
'Bout Qatar and the World Cup
Some dodgy dealing
And wheeling (with feeling)
So FIFA's corrupt, is it? Yup. I have taken the liberty as this one had become a bit of a wallflower.
A guinea pig once came to stay
So I made it at home with some hay
I plied it with wine
Which it thought was divine
My best bottle Grand Cru Cabernet.
A guinea pigs life must be hard
As they tussle for scraps in the yard
Competing with cats
Hiding from vampire bats
While reciting the words of the Bard
I once bought a pig for a guinea
'twas pink and so thin - almost skinny
But feeding it well
Soon caused it to swell
And now it won't fit in my mini
I once had a skirt-wearing pig
For convention it cared not a fig
For instance, its snout
would run like a spout
And its butt was enormously big.
While preparing my sugar cured ham
I thought I would use damson jam
'Tis both piquant and sweet
And I do love to eat
Jam-ham a-la damson, by damn!
While watching a Colin Firth flick
He started to get on my wick
His monotonous voice
Reading novels by J a m e s J o y c e
Make a portrait of me being sick [Marc] Just "Joyce" would have scanned better, perhaps?
I don't want to get out of bed
I'd rather stay tucked in instead
Being all safe and warm
And farting a storm
Leaving blankets and sheets widely spread.
As the autumnal mists descend
O'er the lea the kine their slow way wend
The ploughman homeward plods
While worshiping his Gods
And leaves the world to darkness m'friend...
http://www.poetsgraves.co.uk/Classic%20Poems/Gray/elegy_written_in_a_country_churc.htm
Oh goody, more fog o'er the land
So thick that you can't see your hand as people say....
Don't use your fog lights would seem to be the rule, especially for silver or grey cars
And don't dress in whites
But drive home at 60 as planned
As a senior player I think,
Young Rosie should give up the drink
Such libelous chat
Ignores the fact that
He's not drite the thunk that you quink
I once had a wee dram too much
The courage it gave me was Dutch
Hidden textHello, pen.
I confronted a copper
And riled him up proper
By booting his hat into touch
But now I am perfectly merry
'cause I'm soaking my muesli in sherry
I have gin with my chips
And a song on my lips
That I learnt from a young Mary Berry
I pogoed again, down the road
Jumping just like a green, horny toad
Quite why, I don't know
But it does go to show
With long springy legs I'm bestowed
"Up, up and away!" the man cried
"Gravity, it shall be defied"
With a mighty great leap
He collapsed in a heap
Levitated - and finally died...
I could do that just one more time
But this time perform it in mime
With music by Sting
Or Wag-n-er's ring
Or "Buddy, can you spare a dime?"
I have no idea what this could
have been meant to do, nor what it would
But I think that it might
expire by tonight
unless otherwise stated - stay for good.
If it is dark during the day
[Gietrud] Excuse me, but I think your metre needs adjusting
Giertrud - If it remains dark in the day
Penelope - There'll no chance for us to make hay
[penelope] Excuse me, but I think your metre needs adjusting:
penelope - There'll be no chance for us to make hay
Stevie - Then again, I'm no farmer
But still quite a charmer
Hidden textBelieve that, you'll believe anything.
And I lay the damsels - if they pay...
The wine of the day is Chablis
But waiter! My soup! There's a flea!
On my spoon there's a bug!
There's a wasp in my mug
I wonder what lurks in the brie?
The beast in the cheese is extinct
But the rat in the crackers just winked!
And the worm in the peas
Has knobbly knees
So I wonder: Is L.S.D. linked?
[Stevie et al.] Jolly well done!
Dear Jedi, I'm writing this note:
I think we should all have a vote
About using the Force
(Caref'ly of course)
Or a bucket to bail out this boat
[Pablo] "Force" was an unkind rhyme to offer another
Be gentle when off'ring a rhyme
No oranges please; it's a crime
And please let it scan
Just as well as it can
Then forever will bells and gongs chime!
I have planned to take up my qi gong
And this, I don't think, is too wrong
My hara is sound
And both feet on the ground
I can feel there's new blood in my dong.
Mister Wong in your eyes I can see
That though old, you stand firm as a tree
'Acupuncture' you say
Is why you stay
[Software] Might it be "the reason" instead of "why"?
up all night on just one cup of tea.
A buxom showgirl from Brazil (trad)
Said her boobs had got valves for refill
The left dispensed beer
But the right looked quite queer
And t'would only produce rancid swill
Red Barrel, Red Barrel,
Red Barrel men said "the same again"
Took a fistful of flavour
First class beer!
[Stevie] I'm considering buying this glass and installing it in my local as "Phil's glass", for purely ironic purposes, as the pub has dozens of CAMRA awards.
[Phil] Sweet Theakston's on a Bike! That's an ugly glass without the logo!
Last night as I sat in the snug
A banking clerk gave me a hug
So not every banker
Is riddled with rancour
But was nevertheless very smug
In a small pub in Cornwall I found
Some scrumpy for under a pound
This dangerous tipple
Rots the brain, so UKIP'll Not to be opened until the end.
Hidden textBe buying ev'ry voter a round.
Make sure that the Union is drowned...
"Mister Nigel, I think you are wrong,"

Claiming 'Arbeit macht frei' was a song
That the Nazis once sang
When a Jew they had hang
And that Cameron now sings along
It's December and Santa's awake [New Deal]Why not try http://www.rab.org.uk/mc/mc.php?tid=138#bottom ?
to the fraudsters and makers of fake unifini..
X-Box Ones, PS4s
And it sure gives him pause unfinity or thinks
to think of these crooks on the make.
My old Van Der Graaf's on the blink
With a megavolt spark that is pink
It's stopped making static
Its behaviour's erratic
And the noise... you can't hear yourself think!
Is there some sort of shindig next week?
If so, then the outlook is bleak
I've maxed out my card
From the pub I've been barred
Nonetheless I am off to take a leak...
If you walk 'bout a mile heading west
Wearing naught but a grotty string vest
You'll be stopped by police
Wearing vinyl and fleece
Who'll say you're improperly dressed.
Five four three two one LIGHT THE FUSE!
Firework legislation we'll abuse! (Happy New Year all!)
As the district burns down
We'll be out on the town
Runnin' wild - crawling pubs - hit the booze.
The New Year has brought gloom and dismay
For Charlie Hebdo, so they say
Life goes on - nice and swift
Though for most somewhat miffed
Live on, but die another day. Mercy killing, if you'll excuse the phrase. The stalling of this limerick for a week possibly supports my hypothesis that there are better channels for serious commentary on terrorist atrocities. (I come here to be entertained and show off.)
The chief mistress of Louis XV (Fifteen, n'est-ce pas?)
Had much better legs than his Queen
And as for her bust Well done, pen; it was becoming a right clunker.
If it hadn't been trussed
T'would have sagged somewhere south of her spleen
Finance, it's all Greek to me
And it's mostly a Greek trag ed ee
But the show must go on
'Tho the coffers are gone
Next up: The Great Greek de fault ee.
I once scaled the Rock of Gibraltar
To meet with my bride at the altar
My ardour then wilted
I said somewhat stilted
When I found that her real name was Walter
I once strolled the beaches of Wales
Consid'ring successes and fails
With the thought in my head
"Am I better off dead?"
So I jumped off the cliff - left no trails...
My dear mortal coil is unwound
By a process of reason unsound
With a match, a gas leak     Not until it's over
Hidden textshould be simple to seek but alas twas not so as I found
We'll fly high, with a shriek
And five miles away, hit the ground.
In my an-nu-al HR appraisal Careful now...
I was told that my tone is too nasal
So I blocked up by doze
With some sweat from by toez
Ad disguised duh sbell wid widge hazal
In order to play the bassoon
You must warm up from April to June
But when playing the flute
You just give a quick toot
and blow (but you'll be out of tune)
My tax return's well overdue
But HMRC, they can stew
The money I owe
For my 'petite Chateau'
Has been spent on a cruise. Toodle-oo!
Last night as I went to 'de loo
An owl in the dark said "too-woo"
If you're hoping to pee
Please don't wee over me
Or I'll spray you with my number two. ( thanks, Mother)
Last night, as I dreamt of my beau
My face was suffused with a glow
'Twas not mere desire          
Hidden text'Twas the ceiling afire, World war two era wiring, you know
Not til it's done.
That kindled my fire
'Twas the treasure concealed down below.
Last night as I grouted some tiles
I tested my masculine wiles
Hidden textSo this is unlikely to end well.
I said to my wife
Please pass me that knife
She stabbed me, but I was all smiles. Muahahahahaha!
Last night I was out of my wits
As I searched the bird-table for tits
All I found was some seed
And something to read It's a bit nippy out, I will take a coat if you don't mind...
-in the chaos of life, it all fits.
This bright Monday morning I'm on
Benzedrine. I'd take more, but they're gone.
Still, life is just dandy
Cos I took them with brandy or shandy
For synergistifica-shon.And rather poor rhythm.
I can think - I can read - I can write
My classification is "bright"
But I just can't do sums
So I'm put with the dumbs
Which I think of as rather a slight.
Top marks for the last one!
But you're boring, you're boring as hell
You're up there with Wisty, E. L.
You drone on and on
'Til all sentience is gone
What is left is just unpleasant smell...
What a pain to have bagged the first line again
For some that's a terrible strain
It challenges the wits
And is very annoying following Software's lead
But turns out alright in the end
There was a young man of Dundee
Who was stung on the neck by a wasp
When asked if it hurt
He replied "Not a bit,
It can do it again if it likes"

One of my favourites. And now, back to our usual program...

How much do you want for that horse?
(I can see you have "Foxhunt Remorse")
Shall we say thirty quid?
That's my last final bid
(three dots and sev'n dashes in Morse).
Huzzah! Pop'n'crisps all round!
"Excuse me", I said to this bloke
"Can you lend me a bob for a coke?"
He looked in my eyes
(That's a trick I despise)
Said "No, here's some pot you can smoke."
I say! What a hideous hat!
What on earth possessed you to wear that?
'Snot a hat, it's a mitre
And it feels so much lighter
Than the halo i wear in the Vat'...
It is Friday and life is so good
Can't be bothered to work, though I should
I'll sneak out to the pub
For a pint and some grub
And drink more than I normally would
An evening in front of the telly
A South Bank Show rerun (George Melly)
A pizza, some beers
Then a rerun of Cheers
And a great rumbling sound in my belly
A protesting voice I must raise
Against your lascivious gaze
My face is up here
So please transfer that leer
To a smile that confirms my boobs you praise
[Marc] I think you were too keen to get your boobs into that last line. I can imagine you're proud of them, but I think you could have tried harder to make them fit. Shocking scansion there, miss.
There was a young fellow from Hull pronounciation ad lib
Who thought that the place was too dull
So he signed on a ship [pen] Yes, I think you are right, there’s much too few lines about boobs nowadays
Donned a pink, silken slip
That would show off his boobs to the full
While donning my pads, gloves and box
Hidden textCricket, if you're confused.
I was shocked when I found my boll-ocks If you can't beat 'em, join em, eh Marc, you mysoginistic arse?
Though my jockstrap is big[pen] I know you are rude and now you have proven to be ignorant and stupid as well, what a pity
It's stuffed with my wig
A banana and two pairs of socks
[Marc] If you must post smut (which, it seems, is all that you have to offer) at least be decent enough to make it rhyme and scan. It's probably too much to ask for it to be interesting, clever or funny as well.
A true sanctimonious mind,
Isn't needed - you'd have to be blind u.s.a.
Or denying the truth
To not know what is couth
So let's all be nice and refined
Refinement, I have it in spades
Hidden textI fucking do.
Well, at least if I look through my shades
I'll see Rosie's demure
And raise it to 'pure'
As she wafts through the sun-dappled glades.
Again, poor Rosie's changed sex
Was it drugs and the knife, or a hex?
No, it's all in the mind
Though it's still undefined
But not if I lower my kecks.
Hidden textLook away NOW.
I'm thrilled with the latest advance
In captivity, they've bred a Wild Pants
It is white with red spots
You can play 'join the dots'
Though its parents may well look askance.
In Midsomer a man has been shot
There it happens more often than not
It's a great place to die
'neath a clear English sky
Do I really think so? Not a lot.
Thank god! Morse and Lewis are here! Netflix Binge declared.
So tremble, ye villains, with fear!
For Oxford is filled
With forensically skilled
And detectives that drink lots of beer
Oh well played everyone! Crisps all round!
And as for Inspector Jack Frost
I fear that his marbles are lost
Though when bending the rules
And suffering fools
That old bridge too far he had crossed.
When you sit on the rail breaking wind (A nice sailing trip anyone?)
Having drunk too much beer that is tinned
Spare a thought for the mate
As you shamelessly deflate
Though my nose and my bum are thick skinned.
While sorting the junk in my loft
The rafters felt distinctly soft
When I trod on a joist
I felt something moist
That gave way the moment I coughed
"It's a very fine object," *cough cough*
It's starting, though, to go off (gough ough)
The pong goes right through
One's sinuses to
make stuff you'll spit into a trough.
A little tidying up:
"It's a very fine object," *cough cough*
It's starting, though, to go ough
The pong goes right through
One's sinuses tough
make stuff you'll spit into a trough.
The maximum speed of a tortoise
Can never keep up with a porpoise Grabbing the only rhyme.
With turbot installed
And the shell well close-hauled
It'll speed up until it has caught us
However, the rate of the hare
Approximates that of a bear
If your math's a bit wonky
I'm certain that Don Qui-
-Xote will make it all square!
Hidden textRaak: Mortise?
Oh Lord, will you please tell me why
The cyclops has only one eye
Yet still remains jocular
Despite being monocular oblig.
And can't watch 3D movies on Sky.
There was a young fellow from Reading
Whose cat just lay sleeping and shedding
amounts of black fur
Fell out at each purr
And he sold it to Hypnos as bedding.
When at the computer I find
I'm not in control of my mind
So Cntl-Alt-Delete
And get to my feet
And go for a jog to unwind.
Egad! From the taps just a drip This one in sympathy for Raak. Limerick Aid
No bathing - no stiff upper lip
I'll be a bit whiffy
So I'll dip in the Liffey
Just as long as no gals see me strip
It's never the greatest idea
To start a fight on Top Gear.
Now Chris E's the new face
A ginger disgrace
Can you hear a toss given? Not here. Sorry chaps! =)
We're on strike 'cause our wages are low
And we're dealing the bosses a blow
They'll have to cough up
And feed our new pup
Or next we'll run a go-slow
Is the Euro to go down the pan?
The Greeks would cheer that to a man
The Drachma'd be back
Get a meal for one sack
While the rest of you pay, that's my plan!
"Can ya lend me a bob 'cause I'm broke?"
"Being totally skint is no joke"
Haven't eaten for days
(My "austerity" phase)
"Here's a quarter of rum and a coke."
There was a young lady from Thame trad.
Who decided to go on the game.
When she spread out her wares
She provoked several stares
Now she's ninety - still on - with no shame...
Now please sharpen your pen and then write
Of the joys of a Flexifoil kite
Or just jot a few words
On its danger to birds
And the warnings of flying at night
The last time I ate a hot curry
I had to dash off in a hurry
My bowels were a-bubble
In the air smell of trouble
And then the inevitable slurry
well done P,B,S,M & R!
On the way home last night - a kebab
Then to A & E for a jab
Seven stitches then home
Wrapped in urethane foam
And then off for six long weeks of rehab
I'll pay for my meal with some rupees
E'en here in Stockton-on-Tees (KS) -You'd have got better rhythm if you'd just left out the word "some".
This Chicken Madras
Spiced with pure Sassafras
Will bring me down to my knees
/hr seems not to be working.....?
I really must protest dear sir
The print on the label's a blur
The tin may have leaked
'Cos my kitchen, it reeked
And smelled like some rotten liqueur. (Rosie . . . um, nope, sorry . . . "Lines 1, 2 and 5 of a limerick should ideally consist of three anapests each" My first line has three anapests just like a limerick should . . . now, as for Stevie's line, it doesn't).
Compare and contrast with English as she is spoke and limericks as they be scanned:
I REAlly must PROtest dear SIR: correct metre, but "PROtest" is the noun.
I REAlly must proTEST dear SIR: "proTEST" is correct, but the metre is trying to be a different verse form:
I really must protest dear sir
This printed label's just a blur
The tin it leaked, my kitchen reeked
And smelled like déclassé liqueur.
I'll PAY for my MEAL with some RUpees: correct metre and word stress but difficult to rhyme with.
I'll PAY for my MEAL with some ruPEES: extraneous "some".
I'll PAY for my MEAL with ruPEES: correct metre, and the stress in"ruPEES" is also correct.
There once was an expert who knew [Raak] Many thanks dear Sir for the lecture, we needed it!
Fuck all about making a stew [Raak]
Hidden textSorry, the stress doesn't turn it from noun to verb in my neck of the woods and it sounds just fine when I say the line out loud. I've never heard anyone call them pro-TEST songs either. So, all-in-all, Thrrrp! 8oP 8ob 8oP
The bucket of gravy Wade in, chaps.
Supplied by the navy
Had a frighteningly bright crimson hue.
"We've defeated the Spanish Armada,"
Cried Drake with consid'rable ardour
We chased them round Britain
So now they're once bitten [Raak]
Hidden text I think KS was claiming the line should be read as 'I'll pay FOR my meal WITH some ruPEES', which is (sorry KS) a very odd reading, given that it requires stressing propositions that would most naturally be the least stressed words in the sentence. As for Stevie's line, my sense, which dictionaries appear to confirm, is that 'protest' as a verb can be stressed on either syllable; I'm not sure if the stress on the first syllable is primarily Am. Eng., but it might be. That said, I do--like you--find the stress on the second syllable to be more natural for the verb.
They'll realize that we are much harder
It's Monday and i'm feeling bored
So I pull the emergency cord
The ejector seats fire
And as I rise higher
"Where's my parachute?", Oh dear Lord!
Those men in their flying machines
Eat nothing, so it's said, but baked beans
And for their own part
The beans will impart
With brown stains on the back of their jeans...
Are you sure that this airplane is safe
Are you sure that this airplane can fly?
If it's safe we can certainly try
So shall I take the stick?
Get aboard and be quick
Just don't tell the pilot! Bye-bye! [Marc] chafe, strafe, waif, Ralph? :)
The dark clouds that are blocking the sun
Remind me just what I have done
As Guildford lies flattened
And seemingly patterned
It's a shame it can't be undone
I've wiped out the Jewel of Surrey
She was hot - kind of cuddly and furry
With a come-hither grin
And a rather square chin
So don't click that link in a hurry
If Guildford's a jewel, what's Dorking?
'Bout 4 hours away, if you're walking.
But if you're on a bike
There's a pub you might like
So step on! Stop standing and gawking!
I thought that I'd broken my wrist
When I swung at your mother, and missed
As my fist hit the wall
The last thing I recall
Was her cackling at me "You're pissed."
So here I sit, in the ER
With my elbow stuck in a jam jar
The sixth hour has passed
I'm having a blast
While the doctor slips off to the bar That's probably not fair and could cause a storm of protest, but all for the sake of scansion and mirth.
The weirdos who live on the hill
Have put all their pigs on the pill
So no little porkers
Will get nobbed by rogue orcas [Softers] Oh, I do so like a challenge...
And think what they'll save on the swill.
The chaps at Piers Gaveston think
That life is all orgies and drink
Countess Marg'ret de Clare
Had better beware
Lest she'll end up in the clink which she did, BTW
In a small, central part of my brain
Is a place ornamented with pain
It's the fault of my mother
'cause she killed my big brother
And it's likely she'll yet kill again.
A student of madness would think
"Funicular! Crucible! Blink!"
or perhaps, "nadge my toes"
Or "nobody knows"
That I normally crap in the sink.
I've bought myself a winter coat true
It's made of weasel, fox, and stoat I think we've just invented the iambic limerick. Lines of 4, 4, 2, 2, and 4 feet and the usual rhyme scheme.
It's wholly organic
So no need to panic
The collar is made from the arse of a goat Adding a few syllables as a reasonable compensation
The good folk of Accrington, Lancs
Were often mistaken for cranks
They spun round and round
With a murmuring sound
As their only football team tanks
This island is home for the night
Although it's a quite gruesome sight
The ferry has sailed
The banshee has wailed
And I'm stuck on the Isle of Wight.
There's a rumour that's doing the rounds
That my head makes peculiar sounds
That's 'cos it's hollow
And so, when I swallow,
There's a noise like the baying of hounds
I have heard there's dog on the moon
Whose bowl is in fact a spittoon
His kennel's a crater
Around the equator
His cries won't be heard 'til next June
I hope that my bonfire will light
So I can fry bangers all night
With a can of cold beer
I shall quote lines from Lear
"O, thou side-piercing sight!"
"Guaranteed from boot-to-bonnet!"
That's Clarkson's first go at a sonnet
It could have been worse
If he pictured a hearse
With luck he could have be on it
I awoke to a fine morning sight
Of the hay in my barn set alight
The insurance will pay
For my next holiday
Due in just a fortnight
I simply don't know how to start
My new sixteen horsepower go-kart
I yanked on this string
It went 'wicketi ping'
And then the machine fell apart.
So I cussed and I brandished my spanner
In typical Clarksonian manner
But Jeremy and Kelly
(Them two off the telly)
Have ordered the parts from Fermanagh
The business of ordering parts
Proceeds both in fits and in starts
Look at the book
Ring them up; they're in Nuuk
And deliver by husky-drawn carts.
When eternity fits in an hour
I barely have time for a shower
But when deadlines draw near
I quiver with fear
And withdraw to an ivory tower
My Cumbrian fell is a-flood
My "carpet"'s now three feet of mud
The rain doesn't stop
Needs more than a mop
And the switch on my ark is a dud
Will it rain now for forty more nights?
Will it reach the top rain record heights?
Because if it does
We'll call out the fuzz
To claim that we've got human rights.
So Christmas has come back around
And Santa, I've heard, is southbound
With his over-full sleigh
He may brighten our day
As he slips in with barely a sound.
Oh my dearest I long for your kiss
Though I fear your technique's hit and miss
Your French kisses I love
They are just hand in glove
And I do care that you are my sis
Farewell to a very poor year
The weather was shite, that is clear
So let us revive
The jitterbug and jive
And party with burgers and beer
I will not stand for whiny complaining
In spite of long immersive training
Though I must say it's wrong
To moan all day long
When the rhymes here are SO entertaining
So farewell then Bowie: bye Dave
You did all the genres, save rave
And for that, we're in awe
'Though our tear ducts are raw
For ecstasy beyond the grave.
Sometimes I cannot resist
Adding whisky to my shopping list
It goes on with the gin
Make our heads start to spin
As slowly we're getting pissed
Hmm.
It's time for a jolly distraction
Like Longleat or some such attraction
Or maybe we could
Stroll through Odell Great Wood
Watching grass growing slowly in action...
Then she said: "I'm lying in your bed"
And I think that butler is dead
So I said, "Call Poirot!"
But Mycroft said "No!"
"We'll eliminate the impossible instead."
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