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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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That his pantomime dame
Started it with her hairspray.
Meanwhile, oop north in York
Adele had a battle wi' Bjork I know that's not how Bjork would pronounce 'Bjork', but by 'eck it is 'ow a Yorkshireman'd say it.
They both donned t' clogs
Took t'bats and t'dogs
They don't care how the neighbours will talk
When Shakespeare put pen to paper
He could write a jolly good caper
With lots of cross-dressing
That had the queen's blessing
And swordfights with epée or sabre.
Gadzooks, forsooth and odds bods!
Facebook posters are miserable sods
They say "Look at mee"
And, "Wow, you're sexy!"
And post pictures of food - well, ye gods!
See my mouse! See my fresh Charlotte russe! I'll give you pictures of food... and internal rhymes on every line too!
As with gusto I wave my wand thus! You're catching an accent there if "mouse" rhymes with "russe", pen...
Hey presto! They're gone!
Dammit, I meant 'mousse'!!!
It's a visual con
Then she left with the five o'clock bus...
Then the busdriver asked: " Who are you?"
I said I was from Timbuctu
And I wanted a ticket
He said "Don't be thick, it.....
Costs four quid. You only dropped two.
Who knows where the fifty nine goes? While we're on the buses - see what I did there?
Check the front, that's where it shows
"Timbuctu via Kent"
Why, it seems heaven-sent!
A des(s)ert of apples. Who knows?
And then three came along, all at once
A burglar, a vandal, a nonce sorrysorrysorry
In a cell they were placed
Spun three times, and then faced
A chap who was clearly a ponce. What other rhyme is there?
It's my fault things are as they are
You could have done better by far
By ignoring me quite
A lot out of spite A torch burning there in the sconce / A man who clubbed me in the bonce
If I could change Stevie's line to It's done out of spite:
Signed: Beelzebub. BWAHAHAHAA!
[Bizzers] Mate, you can't. If you can't work with the line provided, step back and let someone else do it. Ironic really, given that this Lim is all about 'you could have done better' innit?
[Bismarck] Your replacement line doesn't really follow the previous one smoothly in my reading of it, providing a mental derailment when the whole limerick is read through. Good finish though.
I live and learn. [Stevie] "Quite" as in "completely", and it would need a semicolon. So a poor effort overall.
There's no choice to make but live and learn
Said the discouraged author Jules Verne
sotto voce Funny, that first lined scanned this morning when I wrote it
There's no CHOICE to make BUT live and LEARN
said the DIScouraged AUTHor jules VERNE. Where's the problem? Nine syllables each line. Stress on each third syllable. Job done.
(pen) Have you been at those Hobnobs again? That first line is far too long. What about
No choice but to live and to learn
Said discouragèd author Jules Verne.
So he threw down his pen
Resigned there and then
After final full stop he adjourned.
Tom Stoppard wrote plays that are puzzling
And summarized thusly: "man does thing"
His philosophy is
'Tho this ain't a quiz
That breasts are for guzzling and nuzzling. Coat!
One day as I ran for my train
With an unusual thought in my brain
"Why is Brian Billick…" Do-or-do-not Rhyme declared. It's good to be back.
So useless at Cyrillic"
Then I tripped and my ankle did ??????
Wot happened there? I wrote "sprain" in Cyrillic; it looked fine on preview and then went awry when I clicked "Stand".
I guess you sprained the website.
[Kim] This is a frequently encountered ????????.
Something not quite ?????? about the Unicode ?????????.
The ultimate fate of all glass
(Mostly that of the "superfine" class)
Is to be blown and then cut sailor
And to wound someone's butt
While not being mistaken for brass.
I don't really care for this rain:
Loudly I curse but in vain
But still, it is better
It's finer and wetter
But not as warm as in Spain
The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain
But five iambs do not make limerick metre.
The rain doesn't fall here in Spain
A god job too; there's only one drain
It's blocked up with leaves
"Get it clear, Jeeves!"
"Or we'll be flooded all the way to the Seine!"

At a meeting in Trumpton town hall
Was decided to hold a great ball
So Barney McGrew
Did all he could do
Makin' moves, takin' names, standin' tall
Now harken ye unto my words bit pissed actually
That fly from my mouth like the birds
Do each to each other
Though I'm your big brother
You're swimming this pond filled with turds
Five pints and two limoncellos
For myself and these very fine fellows
Lads and lassies; A toast!
We salute our great host
Who's the owner of these fine bordellos...
When it rains, like it did here last week
With no paddle, I'm up the creek
The Thames is all flooded
London's all muddied
Perhaps the Flood Plan needs a tweak?
Whilst taking some stuff to the dump
My car coughed up its fuel pump
So I dumped the car too
In this outside loo
Next time on a bus I will hump
A dirty old man on a bus
Held his belly in place with a truss
This thing itches, said he
As he scratched his left knee
Which promptly oozed mountains of pus.
A dirty old man on a train We might as well work our way through all of this in one go then move onto something more tasteful.
In a raincoat 'though there's no rain
Attracted attention
But I'm loath to mention
The revelation his knobby old cane Mine's the Pitt jacket, thanks

My Tinder account has been hacked
My front patch of lawn has been fracked
My driveway undermined
My steeple inclined
…Has my Guardian Angel been sacked?
I've heard of a dastardly plot
Of drones to be hacked and taught     Silly little things.
Airborne death from above
Like a turd from a dove ?
Sounds sweet but stinks quite a lot. (DrQ) Interesting use of this.
[Rosie] The Low Back Merger. Snigger.
Facebook's become quite a bore
And Twitter just seems like a chore
Instagram; MySpace;
(which is out of the race)
And Tumblr and G+ I abhor!
As I rub-a-dub-dubbed in my tub
Hidden textThey can't touch you for it!
In the bath fell my USB hub
I lost my connection
And a very small section Obviousness avoidance invoked
Of data, then started to blub
On the thirty-third day of September
We were told, and will always remember:
Tis the Feast of St. Bart
When there's cucumber tart
From now till the end of December
I once took a trip to Penzance
Just to by a brand new pair of pants
With a piratey flair
And a glittery glare
Then I found in my pants there were ants
I've booked a staycation in Tring
Come what may - we will make anything
Until it Herts
In my Google alerts 'Say what you see' Dusty Bin wildcard invoked
To see TripAdvisor's rating. - "Get out of logical framework free" card played
Hidden text "Improvement" of a previous Lim... Sorry Marc!
I once took a trip to Penzance
Just to buy a brand new pair of pants
With a piratey flair
And a glittery glare
And flares three feet wide - Elegance!

Today when I opened my post
It got smeared with some hot buttered toast Never open letters at the breakfast table.
The letter inside
Was sixteen feet wide
'twas a note of demand from my host.
"Dear Sir, it's regarding your rent,"
"We need currency, sir, not intent"
"Your kids as security"
"To ensure their futurity"
"Is a legal non-starter (in Kent)"
I remember it cost two pound ten
But that was in - oh, way back when
We used L s d
Now it's pound coins and pee
Here's a cheque. Can I borrow your pen?
I pay with my smartphone, you see
I'm a smartass, there's no one like me
But my phone cost a bomb
I said with aplomb
It's a shame that it's only 2G
I have to inform you, young man
That if you drink beer from a can
You'll lose the scent
So if that's your intent
You can get in the back of the van!
That blank look takes over my face
When someone says they play bass
Or fondle their fiddle
Or drums a paradiddle
And it's time to get out of this place.
Within short I will make a comeback
Papa baffs na go give um dey sack declaring pidgin wild
All along the Zambezi
I'll make it look easy
Because I just have the knack
My guardian angel looks down with fright.
At the things I get up to at night
Under cover of dark
I sneak to the park
And give the shins of lovers a smite.
From next door, there's an awfully loud din
As the neighbours play drums on their bin
With saucepan lid cymbals
Played loud with thimbles
While I jam on my old mandolin. (Hi George!)
There once was a talented writer
Whose fans thought her such a delighter
That at her book signing
They just stood there, pining
For the off-chance they each might just sighter
These new Kindle e-book hacks suck "hack" as in bad writer; they abound in the Kindle self-publishing world.
On lemons as they write their muck
The resulting acidity crap scansion
Ends in lividity
At the rubbish you get for your buck.
Five Bitcoins I've got in my purse
They're better than cash - quite perverse
For they're not really real
Though easy to steal
They're easy to spend, and that's worse.
There's a hole in my new christmas sock
That fits snugly around my cock
However, it itches
When inside my britches
So I line it with large leaves of dock.
Moving swiftly on...
Let us think of the coming New Year
And deck ourselves out in flash gear
And I promise you this
I won't take the piss sorrysorrysorry - it was asking to be done
Which means that I won't be a Peer (Claims Worst Pun of 2018 So Far Award)
Now I've shuffled the deck - will you deal?
With twenty-five cards? You for real?
With no aces or kings
We've no arrows nor slings
But fortune outrageous, I feel.
So, now the New Year's under way and no naval types try to tell me it's "weigh" please...
And I've escaped the vile Opus Dei If we are talking the Warring States period of China, it could be "under Wei"
So our future is bright
To pursue the good fight
To bury Theresa May.
There are Tories and Whigs at my door Seeing as we are going political
In big herds never seen heretofore
For Tandridge foments chance'd be a fine thing
'Midst back bench laments
While we blankly ask "What's it all for?"
In Bangalore there's someone called George
Who went to the Marble Rocks Gorge
Where he laid out his tea
At a quarter past three
With Messner, Mutschlechner and Dorje.
There once was a thinker named Kant
Who encountered a large elephant
Which viewed him suspiciously
Then charged him quite viciously
Hidden textThat vicious and viscous won't get me again like it did at my 8th grade spelling bee!
Hence Africa: A Mad Kant 'Phant Rant.
When I was a child in 8th grade
My one wish was to see a parade
Where the Grenadier Guards
Would light their petards
And put Manneken Pis in the shade.
He made once a shocking mistake
Confusing the clutch with the brake
The resulting collision
Caused a minor division
Of his spine which then gave him a backache.
When the moon goes into eclipse
As it orbits its usual elipse
Its super blue blood
Turns the colour of mud
The same colour as Aunt Hilda's lips...
Her lips filled with Botox were blue
Like those of my other aunt, Sue
And her daughter, young Shelley,
(Who's been on the telly)
Got the same effect from a tattoo.
It will soon be St Valentine's Day
And every chaste maiden cries HOORAY!
But a bunch of dead roses
Shoved under their noses
Won't take their chasteness away
[Software]: "chase", surely?
I once, in the season of Lent,
Spent thirty-nine days in a tent:
Eating corned beef and beans
With a helping of greens
And sat with my bum to the vent.
On the last day of Lent I gave in
I was getting quite dangerously thin
So I binged on ice cream
"Wild thinged" the whole team
Then threw up in the bin
And then threw it all up in the bin.
Could today be the first day of Spring?
We'll know just by checking one thing:
Has the groundhog appeared?
If he has he is weird!
If not his hook he can sling
There's never much snow on the ground
At least, not where I'm to be found
In far Timbuctu
Where I sit on the loo
Performing while folks gather round.
I once met a chap in Tibet
Who flew around on a carpet
Levitation you know
Is a nodding dog's show (I'm taking a carpet to be a small stuffed animal sitting on the parcel shelf.
Well, just how kitsch can you get?
There was a young man from Goonhilly   Family Show declared.
Who did something ever so silly
At old Jodrell Bank Careful now...
Well, I gotta be frank
He lip-synced to Milli Vanilli
Well done! Everyone pick up their Whitehouse Awards at the door.
'Tis true that there's snow on the roof
And it's bleedin' cold aht, that's the troofEastenders variation invoked
So if that mahfy cahhh
Wiv an arse like a saa
Shouts "brass monkeys", well, she's just uncouth.
It's snowing again. What a thrill
To go jingle my bells with a will
As I ride on my sleigh
As I did Christmas day
Now it's over - please hand me that pill...
Left hand down a bit. All stop. REVERSE!
Navigation? Well this is perverse!
Is the blindfold essential?
It tests your potential
Of posting your lines in free verse...
Good grief, is the sun coming out?
It's not - so shudda your mouth!
This wintery spring
When the birds ceased to sing
Has put 'Global Warming' in doubt (the author would like to acknowledge that weather is not the same as climate)
In Downing Street there's this old girl
Whose life is a dizzying whirl
With her mates Don and Boris https://img.huffingtonpost.com/asset/59bfe4ba1a00007100f073b5.jpeg?ops=scalefit_630_noupscale
Dancing the Brexit Morris
But the sight will just make you hurl
Lord Buckethead, now. There's a fellow
He seems to be quite sane and mellow
But his good friend Lord Sutch
Was a little too much
He wouldn’t just scream, he would bellow.
The news of today is insane
Some doctor transplanted his brain
Leaving him dead
Wi' nowt in his head
Is it time for elections again?
Have ye seen the white whale that I seek?
I heard it wis here just last week
It usually lurks
By the old plankton works
Which made ten tons a day at its peak.
I like that one. Crisps all round.
[Stevie] Thanks! crunch Mmm. Plankton.
I fear I must write in complaint.
That they're calling Churchill a saint.
'Cos everyone knows
From his head to his toes
The complaint re: this "saint" is:- He ain't!
In Limerick once lived a lad
Whose personal hygiene was bad
'Twas said that his stench
Could be sensed by the French
And drove all within twenty feet mad.
I asked a French mate about that
He sucked on his teeth and then spat
"Ça me fait chier"
"De sentir ses pieds"
And that was the end of our chat.
Body language is hard to ignore
Like the way that you just slammed the door
I get the impression
You've succumbed to depression
And don't give a toss anymore
Nice one everyone. Crisps all round.
I spread joy as much as I can
(It's easy in my ice cream van)
The power of a flake
Or sprinkles will make
You feel much more like a man
I am sure that it was a mistake
To serve ice-cream on top of a steak
My meat à la mode
And the juices which flowed
Proved my Michelin star was a fake.
May the fourth be with you and your clan
Today's May the fifth; change of plan
But we'll still catch a ride
On the outgoing tide
Sailing fourth in a black garbage can...
My Yacht "Miss 4 Sail" is for sale,
She's a great little boat for a male
She's sleek, trim and yar
For some pretty Jack Tar
But will sink without trace in a gale.
I'd quite like to buy a new boat
For sailing around in my moat
I'd be out with the tide
And the laundry beside
Is efficiently washed as I float.
At the Inn named "Y Knot" in old Cowes
Sat a sailor with knotty eyebrows
He’d accost every stranger
With "You - Percy Grainger?"
When he'd drunk more than five curaçãos.
What is your pleasure, then? It's my round.
At this, the old codger just frowned
"I'll give this one a miss"
"For I'm off to the loo"
To piddle all beer I have downed.
A cold shower's a good start to the day
Or a swim in the cold Hudson Bay
Just slap on some grease
Point the satnav at "Nice"
And tuck all your tackle away
The occasional bellowed profanity
Shall not discommode our urbanity
Though we know that it will
If it's heard in Seville
Because they lack basic humanity
I remember a chap from Brazil
Who claimed to have found Yggdrasil
Unfortunately
twa's exorbitantly
Faked from paper-stuffed cavalry twill
I once met this god from Olympia
Whose garb could not have been skimpier
In wine, he would swim
Thus keeping in trim
Though his drunkenness made him seem wimpia
I have here a one-metre rule
That has ferules that are really quite cool
And a legible grading
(Although it's now fading)
After long frequent use in the school
I don't think that I've seen one of those
Being used in the way that you chose
But improvisation
Gets my acclamation
As a wonderful artistic pose
Now these you can buy by the yard
They start soft but then go really hard
They're not thixotropic
Nor yet hygroscopic
CDs with the movies "Die Hard"
In my youth, I would go around with
A load of yobs from Penrith Pedanticus writes: It has to be pointed out that the "th" in "with" is voiced, making strict rhyming impossible. Using Welsh is not possible because the stress would be on the wrong syllable. The only solution to this impasse is to assume marked Caledonian chararcteristics on the part of Superman
Although we came via
Hidden textRosie: I was always under the impression that myth, blacksmith, and monolith rhymed with "with"
The Mull of Kintyre oblig.
No-one among us was a sound-smith
8o/
I was hoping we'd get a Sith in there somewhere.
(KagShu) I'd say the difference is like the difference between the th's in thing and there, this, that etc. I don't think there's any difference between American and British English on this point.
[Superman] You can hope, and you can stack the deck with a difficult rhyme in the first line, but in the end you get no more say in the finished product than if you'd played a move that offered wide-open possibilities to everyone else.
In my youth I'd knock about
With the grandson of Ebenezer Prout
He was fun, was young Fred,
It's so sad, now he's dead,
He was, though, a bit of a lout. highly unlikely
(Raak) I have here a copy of Prout's "Counterpoint, Strict and Free". It was bought by my Dad in Tunbridge Wells and he has put the date (Jan 18 1941) and his name and address on the flyleaf. The address is in Crowborough, where I was born, but I've no idea if it was where I lived for the first two years or whether it was in one or both of two other addresses in said town. Should've asked - bit late now. Prout's volume you could call "severe".
My father, a violinist, had a copy, and my brother, a cellist, no doubt looked into it during his musical education. I was always puzzled by where all of these rules came from and what their purpose was, but I could never get an explanation.
On steps to Parnassus I climb
Just taking one step at a time
I breathe the thin air
As Fux he did dare
To write seven-part fugues: so sublime!
[Raak] The "rules" spring from what is considered consonant and dissonant, views of which have changed throughout musical history. Hence you can end up with a fugue like that in Walton's 1st Symphony, which would have Prout screaming in his grave. All good clean fun
(Pablo) Never double the seventh. Beethoven does it all the time.
I tried my hand at the flute
As well as the ven'rable lute
After while I gave up
And took to the cup
- And that was a lot more astute
[Rosie] Be even more daring and have the 7th rise!
I once wrote a charming duet
And performed as a crooning cruet Leaving every other rhyme for 'duet' available for subsequent contributors. I'm all heart.
I made quite a showofit following penelope's lead, but see source for suggestions if you think you just bluet
Or at least made a goofit To my reading duet is a masculine rhyme, so all that needs to be rhymed is the final syllable
And got to the end with no sweat. (CdM) Agreed. Didn't know that was called "masculine"
But it's more fun the other way, and the ending begged for some suet.
[Stevie] I refer you to your own comment in this forum last week... you can beg for suet all you like!
Very truet.
Won't someone please give me some suet?
I once had a packet but blew it
While chewing the fat
I found a dead rat
That I grilled in a lickety split.
Grilled rat is a delicious meal
When served on a bed of fried seal
Do not overcook it Anticipating a marked boreal presence
And immediately book it
Before it has time to congeal and now, for some taste....
Bon viveur? How I mean to live well!
Champagne Charlie thinks I'm quite a swell
I'll be quaffing the bubbles
And downing the doubles
But don't overdo it, Ma'moiselle.
A sip of the bubbly's divine
But cabernet's equally fine
And Asti is nishe
If'sh kept on ishe
Though Château d’Yquem is top of the line. (Anno 1811...)
A pint IPA, if you please
And some crisps - make them onions and cheese
And for my good friend here
Teetotal, I fear
Juice of orange, with ice, freshly squeezed.
A round of the optics is just
What you need when your business went bust
It will make you see clearly
And we ask you sincerely
Do you give a shit? We’re not fussed. whoever drew the tits as their moniker, would you please not do it again? Thanks.
On a bright Monday morning like this
One feels that one would be remiss
Not to breathe the fresh air
Or pick a ripe pear
And set forth on a day full of bliss if only...
Gad! The heat! And the dust! And the flies!
And the moans and the groans and the cries!
And the tropical nights
And these nylon tights!
All this for the Man Booker Prize.
When hit in the face with a cod
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