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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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Who ran up a huge restaurant bhyll I blame the spellchecker
By scoffing ten courses
He thereby endorses (pen) One "l" in Rhyl. Hard luck.
Credit card use at the thyll
The goddess of love (name of Venus)
Is wearing no clothes - it's tawdriness
She steps out of her shell
But - Dear God - the smell
Being locked up so long is quite heinous
And lo, the seasons doth change
No more hay-fever, now it's the mange
Or frost-bitten toesies
Hidden text(Stevie) Stand nearer the soap
Get out your knee cosies
Home sweet home on the (kitchen) range.
I've been equinoxed twice now this year!
An excuse to break out the beer
And play Jean Michel Jarre
Loud, in my car
Hidden text(Bis) Not quite yet. The equinox is at 1422 UT, 4 miinutes away as I type this.
While doing a ton in first gear
[Pablo] Did you pass me on the motorway this morning?

Roaring past at a hundred and ten
Pablo altered the volume and then
Jean Michel Jarre
Howled out of his car
What an earful for fearful young pen!
Let us dance a Dark Morris to bring
An end to this ludicrous fling
Do some hop 'n bop 'n
To rhythms forgott'n
Then your hook you can sling
While waiting for Godot one day
I think that I thought - 'come what may'
Was a bad Abba song
That stood out from the throng
Coz they sang it in G - should be A
It says not to try this at home
It's a thing you can do with a gnome
But please to take care
When you do it and where
Don't forget your protective Styrofoam.
Use a Styrofoam hat when you bike
With Styrofoam pants, if you like
Then add Styrofoam socks
To ward off hard knocks
It's a trick they used in the Third Reich.
I shall take my laboratory rat
And feed it five kilos of fat
Grow it big as a dog
Then inject egg-nog
And see if it goes for the cat.
Could be, there's a Nobel in this
We can make IPA from my piss! [Sorry Phil, if you're watching]
So, pen, get drinking
And never stop thinking
And telephone Greene King
Hidden textOo-er... simulapologies. Sorry.
That recycling realy is bliss
That brew of the gods, IPA
So don't let anyone say
It's just flavoured water
And drink it you oughta
With a smile, right after you pay
Hidden textFor the record, one really has no high gound to stand on if one goes where that last-but-one effort went so quickly.
I've launched a crowdfunding campaign!
Hidden textThe poor man's Nobel?
To design an intelligent brain
With some High-Tech connections
I've high expectations
Or it's 50 grand straight down the drain
Oh well done everyone! Crisps all round!
[Stevie]You are handcuffed and arrested for inferior rhyming. Here are samples of some correct choises: affections, collections, complexions, confections, convections, corrections, defections, detections, directions, dissections, ejections, election's, elections, erections, infections, inflections, injections, inspections, objection's, objections, projections, protections, reflections, rejections, selections
(Stevie) I think he means choices but what do I know.
[Rosie] I like his/her use of "correct" as the compliment of "inferior" myself. And my response is, as always, that the commentator, having asserted their superiority, is now free to indulge their love of sex and that of travel simultaneously.
Choose your words carefully, now
And enunciate "How now, brown cow?"
And make sure not to write
That the kids is all right [Rosie, Stevie] Hiding behind a pseudonym? Never a good stance for those assuming the role of scansion and rhyming police, nor for Brexiteers for that matter.
For some lurker will make you kowtow.
It is words that maketh the man
Just so long as they rhyme and they scan
Hidden text[Rosie] I think he meant options. There was only one choice to be made. Also, I wonder why 'election' and 'objection' were rendered in both plural and possessive form. Ho hum, we shall probably never know.
But what makes the lasses careful now...
Is poetry classes
Someone should tell Princess Anne. (pen) penult. Not guilty, Miss. The rather bumptious miscreant remains at large.
(Softers) You bin up nawf or sunnink?
Princess Royal - how lovely thou art
E'en when your horses do fart
From a surfeit of hay
Carrots, lentils, and whey
Don't stand too close when they depart.
Good heavens! Don't make such a fuss
They'll all think that you're just a wuss
Stop that complainin'
Just cos it's rainin'
And it's three hours before the next bus
"Give me your arm", said the nurse
While I half-inch the cash from your purse
We're not paid enough
So we have to get tough
But Brexiters' promises are worse
Re: BREXIT: The will and the way
Are frankly in some disarray
Why Article 50
Is getting more shifty Oblig.
And further away by the day
The tabloids are ranting of treason
It's their spleens and their bile that they're easin'
But their ignorant bile Can't call it anything else...
We must take with a smile
Till the count's in. Then comes the apeasin'
Enough with this democracy!
A tyrant's what we need
Who will make up the rules
Not giving a bugger about what works or not
Just like the players of this game
I think a glow-worm was struggling to get out there:
Enough with this democracy!
A tyrant's what we need.
He'd rule without hypocrisy
By one rule: his own greed.
Enough with this democracy
Let's try a spot of anarchy
No political boss
No giving a toss
No Don and no Hil bugging me

Just off the top of my head, in stream of conciousness. My start was good and offered an easy array of pertinent rhymes. Everyone else was to blame. I'm keeping these crisps. 8oP
I preferred the original.

In matters of scansion and rhyme
We abide just some of the time
But when we do not (Raak) It was, and my fault too. I'm 73, you know.
We react on the spot
And wax wroth in interpretive mime.
Hidden text[Rosie] I'm only a decade and a bit behind you.
Dear Hill'ry don't cry - you've got Bill
I'm sure he can give you a thrill
With a Cuban cigar
So nothing can mar
Your joy at the ring of the till.
That's it, for another four years
We'll hear nothing but wailing and tears
And old Lady Luck
Appears to be stuck
And you're all quite correct in your fears
When all the "Trumpettes" start yelling foul
I'll cover my head with a towel
You're donning a turban?
How quaintly suburban!
We Valley Girls wear "Hillary's cowl." that'll do.
Way up on a peak in the Andes
Or down on the banks of the Ganges
One stands and one stares
One mutters one's prayers
While lighting regretful our candles...
The Siberian Filigree Hamster
Hidden text Glad to see Marc is keeping up the tradition :)
Foreshadows a rhyming disaster
So I'll have an orange
One rose that is yellow
Schadenfreude to make Superman swear?
Tradition is seldom surpassed
By stuff that relates to the past
Nostalgia is fine,
Hidden textOoh, I swear... I can feel a Stevie-level strop coming on for that previous limerick treatment :)
Like a noble old wine
But the future goes past rather fast
The meaning with Christmas I think
Is that it's a good time to drink
I can't be the first you're welcome
With a seasonal thirst
But that punch looks suspiciously pink.
This year I'd like Santa to bring
The album Herb Alpert Plays Swing
And a Rover P6
A timepiece that ticks
And a furlong of Number Two string.
Scrooge said, "Now that old Marley's dead,"
"His riches are now mine instead"
But three ghosts made him see
Things quite differently
As one by one they turned up in his bed.
Bob Marley, a singer-songwriter,
Once asked me to lend him my lighter
To stoke up his spliff
And I would've done - if
I could find it. Where is it?, the blighter. I lose things, everything, all the time.
While drinking a small glass of sack
Guess who bumped into my back?
A small, forlorn elf
Who looked like Will Self
For both reasons, he went on the rack.
One for Stevie, as he asked :)
While I rode on the LIRR
I tuned my acoustic guitar
To the key of B flat
As we all sat and sat
But the train didn't move very far
Choose a chord, and then play it with speed
A G minor sixth's what you need
Modulate to E flat
F sharp with that
A very nice ringtone indeed
[pPRSS] A masterpiece for cellphones indeed...
The Finger Print Lock for my phone
Will exclude any omi palone
But if I lose my touch
Or get drunk, or some such
It unlocks with the right type of moan
My telephone's battery is dead
So I think I'll try shouting instead.
At least I won't squint
Or cast it to print
That you put in the shredder unread
We will soon see another dictator
Little Donald, whose motto is "greater"
His first action will be
To grope girls (two or three)
While tweeting "Obama's a traitor."
I just found a bunch of "fake news"
While tweeting "Obama's a traitor."
I just found a bunch of "fake news"
According to Trump, it's abuse
And badly written, to boot
Himself to disrepute
The world thinks he has blown a fuse...
Will they give him a standing ovation
Or just give him a straight flat castration
I'm hoping the latter
Cos castratos are fatter
So fat chance of shafting the nation
This Friday the First Trump will sound
And our dreams will crash down to the ground
Cometh hail mixed with blood
An avalanche of crud
Or a dollar worth more than a pound
But the man isn't president yet! 33 hours at the time of posting...
Sorry, 45 if you count up to midday on 20th
Soon he is and to all that's a threat
The nukes do his bidding
(Don't think he's kidding)
And then it's Auf Wiedersehen, Pet
There once was a loudmouthed clown
Who stuck his name all over town
On a poster that said
"Wanted: Living or Dead"
They shot him, and then he piped down.
A big fat notorious lier
Is the state to which marrows aspire!
For every courge's
Desire to be bourgeois
Grinds the people down. Ready! Aim! Fryer!
My lies are alternative facts
So your claim that my previous acts u.s.a.
Are truly obnoxious
Is thoroughly poxious
Same to you, no returns, to the max.
The last Jedi, alone on a hill
Stared wildly at his cell phone bill
His vast roaming charges
On spacefaring barges
So he hides - but they find him at will!
In an X-wing outbound for the Death Star
I was munching on a Mars® bar
When the Admiral said
"Right - full steam ahead!"
Then we crashed into Star Alcazar
My august predecessor once said,
"If you don't make a million, you're dead"
Now I sell p3n1z p1llz
Made of porcupine quills
Will you test them tonite in your bed...?
"Dear Sir, I am not one of those"
"Correspondents whose flowery prose"
Obfuscates my true meaning
My gist needs no gleaning
It hits you right there, on the nose.
My new novel will be out next week
For a giggle, I wrote it in Greek
And I used pseudonym
Jakob Ludwig Karl Grimm
But the press let my real name leak.
Christ almighty this bad weather sucks!
You'd think that El Niño's in flux!
Snow, hail and fog
It's not fit for a dog
It's the fault of those pesky Canucks.
My moped won't start, so these chocs
Won't stay very long in their box
A sweet compensation
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