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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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[Phil] I overlooked nasty "distain"
There's a problem it seems with my brain
It seems to be telling
Me to ignore spelling
When used in a hum'rous refrain

Sorry for horrible scansion.

He shrugged off their words with disdain
Accompanied by this refrain:
"Sticks and stones - hurt my bones,
Not to mention cellphones,
That keeps filling my ears with deep pain!”
(enough of this then...)
[Phil] Interesting - until you said it, I couldn't hear Marc's line in a way that made it correct. The influence of the rhythm of the original 'Sticks and stones' chant just got in the way, I suppose.
A young lady from old London town
Wore to Ascot a transparent gown
The resulting mêlée
Caused by said negligée
Turned the once verdant lawn dirty brown
This young woman's gauzy attire The theme is worth developing a little more
Was based on a thin frame of wire
It was easily bent
To convert to a tent
With a leftover piece for a spire.
Friday night and the eggnogs are free (Well done all, free eggnogs to everybody including Sprangle!)
The young ladies are drunk as can be
Alas, so am I
And I want pumpkin pie
But none of these babes bake, you see?
The cult of the hero is flawed (Cheers Marc - jolly generous under the circs :^)
Lesser mortals are easily awed
With gold head and clay feet
They're not quite the elite
They should all be put to the sword
A deep-fried pork pie's just the thing
To make arteries lose their zing
Though the taste is insipid
Being quite high in lipid
It will clog our veins with a wring...
There's a show on the old BBC
‘bout a sex-selling young frenchisee (sic)
Dr Who's Billie Piper
Is scared by a viper
Are you sure it's not ITV3?
I've got an idea for a show:
Called 'How Does Your Garden Grow?'
Its hostess' name's Mary
She's big, blond and scary
When brandishing dibber and hoe
I've got an idea for a shoe
That involves pink feathers and glue
It's most orthopaedic
If somewhat comedic
'cause the size that I need is 'canoe'...
Now that was really nice. Shall I start another?
I've got an idea for a jacket Allow me, m'dear.
It's got bling and will cost me a packet
Its ermine-trimmed ruff
Doubles up as a muff
So I'll call it my < Cockney Rhyming Slang > Desmond Hackett </Cockney Rhyming Slang >
[Softers] I think your Desmond Hackett also needs to be old.
My trousers are have broken the mould
They're pink satin and sequined in gold
Though tight in the seat
They make it look neat [pen] yes, I meant to but forgot :o(
When they splat and my bare butt got cold.
Oh Dear, won't you please come inside,
At least 'til the bloodstains have dried
This axe in my head
Is no cause for dread
I'm an extra in 'Frankenstein's Bride'
Excellent!
I once found an eye in my soup
It stared at me through beefy goop
My mom said, "It's a pea,"
But I knew it could see
‘cause it blinked – it was Billy the Snoop! (Why me?)
"My dear Watson, I think it was you,"
"Who has spent the weekend sniffing glue"
"What I smoke in my pipe"
"Is something more ripe"
"(It's a horse of a different hue)"
"It's a 'baccy from old Araby"
"Yon beetle crawlin' in it? It's scaraby"
[SM & irach] I got hit twice with that one!Ouch!!
"Belonged to Imhotep"
[penelope] Okay, I'll bite: What is wrong with my first line?
Who had lots of pep Sierra Mike - just difficult to rhyme, I think.
Hidden textAlso, what's a "'baccy?"
Oh dear O dear O dear - and we were doing SO well back up there ^^^ :^(
Growing smokeless tobacco at Niles Abbey http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tabennae

At submission make sure brain is ON, (Sometimes rhyme and scansion must be ignored for educational purposes ;-)
Lest scansion and rhyme isn't done
the failure to check [SM] I'll try and be kind! 'Araby', with its stress on the second syllable is very hard to rhyme and scan. And the fact that you had to tailor the word for tobacco AND the word for Arabia to make a first line makes me think you were trying too hard whilst ignoring the basics. If it doesn't scan, it, er, doesn't scan.
Can make a train wreck
Keep it simple - lest all wit be gone
The writing that's writ on the wall
Is italic, and forty feet tall [penelope] I'll return the kindness. It's a BAC-ee from OLD ara BEE. "Baccy" was common usage when I was a lad; my pipe-smoking father never referred to it by any other name. The Archaic "Araby" seemed to fit perfectly with "old".
Hidden textIt's a baccy from old Araby / Burns smoothly and lights easily / Just one single match / And the dried-up leaves catch / And I suck down the fumes greedily
Hidden textthat's all very well Sierra Mike - but it's a team game and you have to take into account the mind-set of the ... anyway, enough of these convoluted justifications for *bad play* - can we just get on with the game? It was working rather well up there ^^
[Spangle]
Hidden text Bad play? The scansion was straight from ISIHAC and the previous line (and I STILL can't imagine how penelope came up with her metre for the line), google hits baccy on the first try and the limerick I wrote in response was from the top of my head, stream of consciousness. An easy rhyme, with acceptable scansion. Doesn't get more team oriented than that.
It says: Children - let's play
Nicely all day
Nice and gentle all day; And do not kick those arses at all!
Hidden textTo see this you must click 'reveal'
And the reason I chose to conceal
u.s.a
Does such play have any appeal?
I'd say that it doesn't
Shall I spoil? No I mustn't tough rhyme KS
Hidden lines (when they fail!) is no big deal
The visions we build with our lines
Are matched by most motorway signs sorry above - didn't realise not all can access the reveal feature
The white and the blue
And the green and black too No-one seems to have noticed Tuj's hidden move.
(Raak)
Hidden textI passed my mouse over it but that was after the following 2 posters had completely ignored it. It was very much in the spirit of what I intended when I began with a 'Hide' - nice one Tuj. I fear some of us are too subtle
Are always covered in vines!

Spangle: Minus 2 points for multiposting without license
Softers: Minus 2 points for not observing Tuj's hidden line
The rest: Well played all
There was an old lady of Kent
With a fortune that still was unspent
A young man on the make
And a bit of a rake
In her riches made a big dent
There was an old fellow from Surrey Shut up at the back!
Who late at night started to worry
'Bout the Euro and Pound
Then he suddenly found
That the Irish had just said they're sorry
There was an Architecture student
(FGZ) Would you like to have another go with some that has the right rhythm and has a few rhymes?
Let's try
A student of architecture
Had ambitions both noble and pure
His fine fenestration
Was just demonstration
Of some of his cunning allure.
On yesterday, my birthday fell
Hidden textI wonder how far it fell?
And the gifts were all brilliantly swell
I particularly like
My fish on a bike
And the crack from the Liberty Bell
There's an elephant stuck in my door
He says he's not from Bangalore
But from Disneyland ®
With a full marching band
...but they're late! It's my birthday no more! </scansion-bending>
An unbirthday party sounds nice
Are you coming? I won't ask you twice
There's cake - but no candles
Because of the vandals
And no tarts as we're all anti-vice.
Your honour, my client is blameless
But the guilty shall still remain nameless
We admit he was there
And shed a loose hair
So he's balding, not guilty, but shameless.
I've a notion to tame a gorilla [pen,Ros] delicately finished, kudos
By off'ring it strawb'rry vanilla (Tuj) Cheers.
Ice cream or candy
Perhaps some brandy
I think I'll name it Godzilla!
There's far too much bran in my diet
Ever since my doc said I should try it
It goes through me so fast
And it ends with a blast
And now I feel deflated and quiet
I really wish I could explain
To Frenchmen, Danes and Turks
How to optimize rhymes [Rosie: To a Frenchman, a Turk and a Dane?]
Oh Arse, buggeration and Rupert Murdoch! I must've thought it was a Pea and Honey Recipe. Try this then:
To the average Frenchman or Dane
How to optimize rhymes (Marc) I've put yours in again, as the art mistress said to the gardener.
For these cold, rainy climes
And why rain always falls on the plain
My standard reply is denial [Rosie] Just so happens with a bit of stress manipulation my line could've been either!
I'm from Barcelona, I smile (Tuj) That may have been what misled me, apart from inattention.
And say "Si, si - mañana
"We have no bañana" oblig.
I'm brimful of Catalan guile
There was a young fellow called Frank
Who laughed all the way to the bank
His sperm for to sell
But he tripped and he fell
And said: "That was a waste of a .."I'll get my coat
The holiday season is grand
but I wish you'd just hold my hand
I get lost in the crowds
Coz my head's in the clouds (KS, G) Little scope for decent rhymes. Are you one person doing double postings under two names?
When I hug your right mammary gland... (Cloud number seven?)
I'm gonna jump in with a punt (Blame Jim. I challenge you all to avoid any smut with this one!)
While eating a cake - a great Bundt
Which I bought in Nantucket
Along with a bucket
After I had a lunt lunt: smoke a pipe. Also, me? I am one person. KagomeShuko is my single screen name I use now. Giertrud is not me.
There once was a Japanese fighter [KS,G Occasionally I'm also a little schizo!] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tekagi-shuko
Who had a mishap with a lighter
His Zero caught fire
And he faced Tojo's ire
For smoking at work, the poor blighter.
There once was a Christmas elf
Who suffered from very poor helf
So he went to the doc
Who did naught but mock
And charged him the bulk of his welf
Nngh Naouwfaouwk vaey aouw taouwk woik vif "In Norfolk they all talk like this"
Whaa'? Even 'ng pahsh taoüns loike Diff? "What? Even in posh towns like Diss?"
Jeg vil prøve å lære det "I'd try to learn it"
Fast jag är en analfabet "Though I am an analphabit"
Póg mo thóin! Tá mo bhríste trí thine! "Kiss my ass! My trousers are burning like this"
There once was a chic little chick (back to basics)
A fashionista that made the rest sick
Her little black dress
Revealed to the press
A house built of silicone brick "If you can remember the seventies, would you admit it?"

Marc - Twas the Night before Christmas I think,
That I thought I would have a wee drink
So I poured out a brandy
Got a hooker called Mandy
And called Charlie Sheen's shrink. (apologies about the reference to the US News)
At the end of this year let me say,
It's been 52 weeks of great play
This collective of wit
- since its fuse was first lit -
has taxed my matter that's gray.
A new year's a time for new things
And a time when ev'rybody sings
So let's sip some wine
With some food that's divine (Can anyone please explain Giertrud's line? I do not understand it at all but I am a blody foreigner of course...)
And wait till the microwave pings . Grey matter - a reference to the stuff inside the head - i.e. the brain.
I've forgotten the things that I knew
For example, is this year still new?
And if not, then how old
We should all be told
If I'm kept in the dark - I shall sue
While stuck on the M25
A shortcut I tried to contrive
But my detour through SloughYou have the option - sluff or slouw...
Was more than enough enuff or enow...
To add a half hour to my drive
Hey, have you seen my rubber?
If I don't find it I'll blubber.
Is it this one - the black? (G and KS, I admire the remarcable precision in two different persons posting ;-)
Flavoured if you need a snack
Another mercy killing -
Bubba bubba bubba bubba bubba
Now play properly!
Spangle, your license is now confiscated. You may go to your room and stay there!
We'd very much like you to try
Finding rhymes that will fit, don't be shy
When you've done that
Verses won't go all "splat"
Or fizzle out and just die
Oh look! Here's a blow-up sheep!
[G] No there isn't. 1. It doesn't scan. 2. It's effing childish. Try harder.
[penelope] I, too, am deeply disappointed with the children's recent behaviour.
Spangle - I need to confess to a crime
I've wasted four hours of your time
But in my defence
I will use common sense
To provide you both reason and rhyme
I need to confess to a sin
I went out the door that said "In"
My erratic egress
To my X's address
Is because my mind's in a spin
Was a flimsy excuse to buy gin
My shame of embarrassing sin oh this is turning out to be a sorry tale...
I've drowned in a gallon of gin
My soul's taken flight
So I think that I might
Have some fun in the hell that I'm in
Alas and alack! Woe, is me!
I think I just scraped my knee!
As I kneeled on the floor
Wrestling with a trapdoor [Marc] Is "kneeled" modern American for "knelt"?
While fleeing the L.A.P.D.[Raak] both are acceptable here in the States.
There once was a kneeling young nun [Raak] Don't ask me, I'm an alien using MS-word for my poofreading...
Who thought she'd stand up just for fun
Her habit then ripped.
And her modesty slipped
But she made the third page of 'The Sun'
Monty Python would just be so proud
if you played a tuba that's loud!
With dead parrots in tow
Let's get on with the show!
Individuals all in this crowd!
Whilst playing "The Liberty Bell"
Our bandstand collapsed - then we fell
And the bell fell and cracked
So with guilt I am wracked
And Ben Franklin is giving me hell
A round of applause please - I've just
Excavated this ancient Greek bust
It is Aphrodite
It's going back to Blighty
After I've cleaned all the dust.
My camera's screen's certainly dying
I broke my scanner too without much trying
So now I can't scan - pun intended - oh yeah
'cause when shit hits the fan [Spangle] Brilliant!
It is off to the shop and start buying.
While bringing a meeting to order
I played the Bach "Air" on recorder
After tapping the mike
Someone said "Take a hike!"
For my Musical Offering just bored her.
I've done all your laundry by hand well... almost half of it - the washing machine is broken
And to scrub every floor I have planned
Including the loo
And the soot-laden flue
And the beach that's STILL covered in sand!
One day an old Pearly King
Was somehow mistaken for Sting
Every breath that he took
Caused his fizzog to look
Like a tantric arrangement of bling
It's so cold I think hell freezes over
As I'm driving my old Vauxhall Nova
My fingers are numb
And so is my bum (oblig.)
How long is it 'til I read Dover?
It's taken four years to explain
Where the rain falls in some parts of Spain
Yet the answer was clear
It's in Andalucía
Hidden textDriest part, actually. Too bad.
Where they have located the drain!

I tried finding words to rhyme clear
Then gave up, and went to buy beer
When I entered the store
I found it cost more
So my eye developed a tear
I cried, and I cried, and I cried,
For I tried, and I tried, and I tried
But dear oh dear
I do fear, I do fear
That you lied and you lied and you lied.
[M, R, S, i, P] That's the most heart-rending limerick I think we've ever had. Well done.
Now let's think of cheerier matters
Like Tommy Cooper and other mad hatters
Morecombe and Wise?
Making mud pies
With their dressing gowns covered in spatters
It's time for my daily banana
All smothered with pureed sultana
A durian milk shake
(Quite a smelly mistake!)
Maybe I'll come back manãna
There's a reason I don't like young Dave
And I'll share it with you 'cause I'm brave
Is, he scares me, y'see
With that noise as he wee
And the daredevil way that he shave Marc, is English your native language? Because sometimes I wonder, the way you force rhymes in when the subject and sense just don't fit.
There once was a man with a beard
Which he grew because folks said he leered
But he leered unabated
At each lady he dated
And that Sir, is how come he got sheared.
While trying to play Brubeck's Take Five
My feet started dancing the jive
Their groovy gyrations
Made large perturbations
- I'm told that her toes won't survive.
Tonight is a full Lenten Moon
Which comes not a moment too soon
For I have indulged
And my belly has bulged
I admit - I'm a thorough poltroon
My favourite Uncle has claimed
That he was mistakenly blamed
For the financial mess
And for cheating in chess
For which he was named, shamed and maimed.
[p,S,M,P] :-)
"In jail you belong Uncle Andy!"
"Your excesses go beyond randy"
"For your lecherous way"
"You now have to pay"
But first, pour me some of that brandy?
Please stop this absurd punctuation
It leads to complete obfuscation
Say the words as they're spelled
Like "yacht", "Keighley", "knelt" (Raak) I'm sure you meant "spelt".
or "supertranssubstantiation"
All of us use electricity
Its chiefest appeal is simplicity
However, some find
That Propane gas, combined
In the kitchen causes duplicity
My mouse balls are sticky with dust
Which disables the joy of mouse lust well, really!
So I've screwed off the plug
Gave its balls a good tug
All of which leaves my mouse quite nonplussed
My monitor's baleful stare
Seems to plead, "Is anyone there?"
The answer, so sad
Because it's just a fad
To use this outdated hardware.
I've revived my old VC10
Which I last flew in - goodness known when!
Though its synthetic sound (http://www.vintagesynth.com/korg/vc10.php)
Makes it bound to the ground
Though we're airborne each Friday at ten.
The next time I see a black cat
At it I shall throw my hat
I shall swear curse and spit [Softers] Wouldn't 'old hat' give your line a better scansion?
As I rightly see fit
Then kick it away. And that's that.
Incredible as it may seem
I like being broad in the beam
The comfort I get
From a full buttock set
Is matched by a fine bosom team
[P, i, p, So, Sp] Jolly good, I enjoyed that :-)
My shoulder is hurting like hell
And it makes my arm ache as well Actually this is timely, I have a trapped nerve in my shoulder and it does hurt like hell!
I must give up darts
And start dating tarts
As my jerk-muscle's started to swell.

I shall reach for my coat and my hat
Don them, adjust my cravat (Chasty) Your jerk muscles are situated in your hand and forearm and I detect overuse.
The make for the door
For us who don't score
The whorehouse will remedy that
My life has been turned upside down
In my new job as "Famed Head-stand Clown"
The blood to my head rushes
Which gives me hot flushes
Which at least brings some kind of renown
There once was a man who was smart
Who could cunningly conceal a fart
Or so he had thought Fool. You can never achieve that.
Because he was caught
Claiming hydrogen sulphide as art.
I wish I had super strength
I'd not ask, "Are the foils all a length?"
I would just use me arms
And switch on all my charms
Albeit imbibe far less absinthe.
One day while washing my car
Of bird droppings, fag ash and tar Last one absolutely dreadful.
Which clogged up my chamois *careful now*
And made it all clammy Antipodean Pronunciation invoked
Now it's shining and worthy a Czar
In French, but not English, there's gender (Pablo) Wot, clamwah?.
In UK its a wing, not a fender
US -"center", not "centre"
but you can tell what is meant: a
In this case we've arrived at The Ender.
My boss (it's a she) never knows
The colour I've painted my toes
One day I'll surprise her
By using Budweiser
And the powder left from Cheetos.
The good folk of Chorlton-cum-Hardy
Are quite underweight - never lardy
But the chiels o' Dumfries
Are loaded with grease
Smelly, obese and quite mardy
There was an old man of Dundee called William Topaz McGonagall.
Who wrote verse that the people of Dundee and beyond found comical
He strove with heroic verse both night and day
Each effort more disastrous than the Tay
His poetry you can still see, serialised in the Edinburgh Chronicle
It seems at last we've found our level
And so we can begin to revel [Simons]Is this some quaint old Tudor metre for limericks that you have resurrected?
Poetic form is so passé 4 lines, AABB?
The Lim'rick déclassé - It still works as a Limerick, IMHO: It seems at last we've found our level / And so we can begin to revel / Poetic (pronounced pwetic) form is so passé
But this stuff sounds more like Phil Neville. (Phil notNeville) You're a kinder man than me. SM's line can be greatly improved by inverting we've and at last. (Pablo) Any further references to "quaint old Tudor" will be treated with the utmost disdain. :-)
So who took my great name in vain
The whole world, old chap, once again Not a diamond geezer, then.
On the silvery Tay
As you stood up to say: [Rosie]Scorn my Tudor references as you will, the fact remains that Simons started us off in 6/8 metre but with crotchet-quaver pattern ending on a weak beat, whereas you finish with traditional limerick 6/8, all in quavers and finishing on the strong beat. Metric mismatch! (Sorry for expressing it in musical terms but have forgotten all that anapestic/trochaic/pterodactyls stuff.)
"Would you look at that f***ing big train!"
That's silly enough for the nonce
About with this stuff let's not ponce (Pablo) It was mock indignation, a joke (note the smiley), nothing to do with metre. Are you aware of my real name, and age? I thought most the the Morniverse was.
Just get to the point
Or we'll have to appoint
A gendarme to whack noobs on the bonce.
I spied from behind a net curtain
A something, of which I'm not certain? It could be... may-be not... or may-be it's... No, sorry I can't make it out, can any of you?
Could it be a duck? [Rosie] re name and age, I have heard rumours, but would not like to act on anything unsubstantiated :-)
Flattened out by a truck
Or hotpot by Betty Turpin
The Thames did once stink to high heaven
In fact, you could smell it from Devon
But some Eau de Cologne
Shipped by old Sly Stallone
Raised the pH to eleven. Caustic comments awaited.
It's true! I've seen elves, gnomes, and fairies
Who always pick my strawberries.
These funny wee folk
My joints they will smoke
And annoy me by shouting "Hail Marys"
While mowing my lawn in the rain
My foot felt a quite sudden pain
It turns out I'd stood
On something that should
Have driven a maniac insane.
Last night as I went to the pub
for a pint, or maybe some grub
But stood at the bar
Was my own avatar
Who'd escaped from the Second Life hub. Anyone else here active on Second Life?
I've just written a lovely new tune
A duet for steel drum and bassoon
Its tinny low drone
Like an orgasmic groan
Sounds so sweet on a warm night in June. Apparently not, then.
I stood on my own in the dark
Aghast, in Van Cortlandt Park
With my money all gone
In the Bronx, all forlorn
I felt a bit of a nark
Don't look at the sun through binocs
Or sail over Niag. in a box
If thrills you must seek
Just pretend you are Greek
And try changing fonts in a .docx
[Raak] I spent a few months playing with Second Life a few years back. I found it interesting but also somewhat baffling. I think I never figured out whether to be me, or whether I should be creating some new persona. Maybe I should take a look back in there again sometime.
[CdM] It's said that introverts tend to make avatars that are copies of themselves, while extroverts make avatars completely unlike themselves. My first av was basically a copy of me, although it's evolved away from that (for one thing, it's female now), and my second I started with something random and have been tweaking it ever since. I'm still the same person behind the keyboard though -- I find it impossible to put on a different manner with a different avatar.
My avatar's manic and loud
It wants to stand out in the crowd
To advertise me
And accept a small fee
And for this I am not at all proud.
There once was a wonderful kisser
(It's no wonder so many miss her.)
Her lips she did pucker
Like a giant squid's sucker
But sadly she's pulling your pisser The one with the belt missing, thanks
My trenchcoat is missing its belt
I found out just now when I felt u.s.a.
The breeze quite so cold
It made certain things BOLD
So i hurried back home at full pelt...
I know where I am - I am lost!
And really don't need to be bossed!
So shuddupa ya face
Just get on the case
And tell me which oceans I've crossed?
Relying on GPS
I think there's a missing 'my' in that line. On that assumption:
Is a sure route to anguish and stress
It's well-known to deceive
Or at least I believe
'Cos I wanted Bough Beech; got Loch Ness.
A certain young kangaroo
To an emu said, "How do you do?"
The emu replied
"Good! You Bonnie, me Clyde"
"Let us rob this here old boring zooo!"
There once was a golden-brown beer
That brought many pub crawlers good cheer
but at Earls Court
Always asked for "Red Port"
And was rightly chucked out on 'is ear.
Myself, I prefer a nice pinot
Or a cool Andalucian fino
But if push comes to shove
I've an illicit love
For pretty much any cheap vino.
Ha - v neat!
What Mr or Ms Bystander just said. That was excellent.

Life is too short for bad wine
Though having said that I'll opine [c,S,C,I,P] Stellar!
That even the worst
Will extinguish your thirst ...ugh...
And too much will rend you supine
I lie on my back and I think
Oh why did I have that last drink?
As my gut starts to churn
And my face starts to gurn
I quickly head for the sink
The porcelain throne I now face
Which my arsehole's about to deface One for you, Phil.
Both ends will soon spew
My message to you
While myself, I disgrace.
A topic of general bad taste
Is likely to get you maced
A sense of decorum
In this here forum
Behave - or forever be chased ...
I just splashed out on some new bedding
Where my bride will lay after our wedding
I hope she likes neon
'Cos it must be an aeon (irach) Is lay transitive? If so, who is the layee? The bridgegroom, presumably. If intransitive is she a chicken, great in egg? Did you mean lie?.
And put her in the mood for clothes shedding.
[Rosie]lay (lâ) transitive verb , (Slang) to have sexual intercourse with. ("Layee" works both ways, it's not just the groom's prerogative - ever heard of "woman on top", or do you think just "missionary"?
As I climbed to the top of the tower
I saw just out of reach, a small flower
With petals petite
And aroma so sweet,
Tried to pick it and fell for an hour.... (crash-boom-bang)
There are ways that are good and there's bad
Ways to explain to your dad
That you've just seen your Mum (irach) All blather. You meant lie, just as the woman next door meant when I used to hear her bellowing at her baby to "lay down!" "Pass him the bottles, then", I mutter. In any case, one doesn't lay; one gets laid.
oh dear, the possiblities. but i resist... With that idiot from
(cfm) "From" doesn't rhyme with "Mum". Are you some typically dimwitted fucking Yank or something?

[irach] The Merriam-Webster Dictionary of English Usage (which is the only truly worthwhile reference on style I have ever come across) observes that, in spoken English, "...there is the simple longevity of intransitive lay, almost 700 years of continuous use." It concludes its entry as follows (emphasis mine):
"Notwithstanding the belief of some that social judgments can be solidly based on language use, the lay-lie shibboleth may be changing its status. For instance, several commentators, such as Evans 1957, Follett 1966, and Flesch 1983, are perfectly willing to give the distinction up; Bolinger 1980 thinks it is already a lost cause not worth defending; Copperud 1970, 1980 judges the consensus of his experts that at least some uses of lay for lie are verging on standard; Flesch even goes so far as to recommend using lay for lie if it comes naturally to you.

"If lay "lie" is on the rise socially, however, it is likely to be a slow rise, as indignant letters to the editor attest. Bolinger observes sensibly that if you have invested some effort in learning the distinction, you will not want to admit that you have wasted your time. ... So what should you do? The best advice seems to be Bolinger's:
"Many people use lay for lie, but certain others will judge you uncultured if you do. Decide for yourself what is best for you."


[Rosie] Dear oh dear oh dear. You really need to get out more, see the world. There are many more ways of speaking English than you encounter in your particular little corner of suburbia.
"From" barely rhyme "Mum": http://www.rhymezone.com/r/rhyme.cgi?Word=mum&typeofrhyme=perfect&org1=syl&org2=l&org3=y
Rosie vs the rest: 0 - 2
Interestingly the 'lay/lie' issue is addressed by Geoffrey Pullum today in Language Log and he sticks to the (in)transitive distinction more than Merriam-Webster does. I think there may be a bit of transatlantic variation here on the levels of acceptability. I also wouldn't rhyme 'mum' and 'from' any more than 'mom' and 'crumb', though I wouldn't call someone out on it.
This is all just the result of a typing error. I'm sure that cfm simply omitted to type the word "Brum" at the end of his line in his line before posting.
The Pru [he's a bit of a cad]. Now stop being a silly, Rosie. You're worth more than this pettyfogging quibblesome nonsense. And I do believe that's the very first time I have used the word pettyfogging - - - :^)
If you make me an offer I might
Do something to you to delight
For sufficient incentive
I can be quite inventive
And promise to play - not to fight!
Would you like to come over and play?
I've fun toys here--what do you say?
There's Tigger and Roo
And don't forget Pooh!
But forget Andy Pandy - he's gay
Should we play today out in the street? [p,c,i,g,s] applause
Smash a shop, bash a cop on his beat!
We can burn with impunity
Destroy our community
—Ah, look at those kids. Ain't they sweet?
well done
If you wake in the middle of the night
With an feeling that something's not right
Grab your old cricket bat
And put on a hard hat
Will this you laid? Well - it might.
Let there be no doubt at all about the meaning of 'laid'
If an egg can get laid in the morning
It may do so without any warning.
The poor shell-shocked hen
Gets caught short in its pen
And the cock shake his tail and start mourning ...
The chick or the egg - what came first?
The Eggs! From their shells chicks do burst!
But who laid the eggs?
Is the question this begs
Damn it! Let them be cursed and recursed!
There were eggs before chicks had evolved
The issue, I think, is resolved
Now, scrambled or fried?
I can never decide
And what's more - will not get involved
Fry me some eggs in sweet butter
While I practise long strokes with my putter
Bring me baked beans [Tuj] That was a truly excellent line.
While I put on my jeans
Do I sound like a farty golf nutter?
If planted, this seed will produce ... Enough with the egg thing!
A berry beloved by moose
If you climb up the tree
You're certain to see
Bullwinkle up there, on the loose
[irach} *smiles*
When the road has become kind of Rocky
Take advice from an amateur jockey
Keep your bum in the air
Cling on tight to your mare
Or you'll throw up your pre-race lunch gnocchi
In Siberia, gnocchi are served
In a manner that leaves me unnerved
'Cos pasta on tundra
Will make me a chund'rer
And that is just what I've deserved...
This night I woke up in a dream
And said "Things are not quite as they seem"
I can't cross the oceans
And control bowel motions
But I'll just check the sheets - hope they're clean
This morning light promises much
A day full of happiness, such... unfini
as olives! And kisses!
And best wedding wishes!
For Pen and her dear old Dutch
(oblig)
Aaaaah - hope they like olives ...
I remember, on my honeymoon
I was caught in an Indian monsoon
To shelter from harm
We found an old barn
Which was cheaper than renting a room
A cheapskate I'll always be
The check's never handed to me
I don't pay my share
Which you may think unfair
But why pay when you get it for free? oblig.
Buy one and you'll get one free!
If two's not enough, then take three!
Buy three, the fourth's yours
Plus a fifth one, of course
And here, have the sixth one on me
"Discount? What's that?" said the vendor
I've a way of seducing the spender
Without special offers
I'll empty your coffers
Like Sanjay Kapoor from Eastenders
And I don't even watch soaps, honest
[Botherer] would've been even better if last 2 words had been 'the Eastender' Good to see you btw :)
[Chalky] Good call! And thanks, good to be back! So on that note:
The problem I have with the soaps
Is the plot-makers clearly are dopes
They think that disaster
Piled higher and faster
Is better than most TV tropes
In early Pre-Christian Rome
A scribe penned a lengthy old tome
Its mysterious pages   (How can you pen an old tome? If you're penning it, it's brand new.)
Took him ages and ages
[Raak] I wondered about that myself (from a print media perspective) but perhaps
Cos he carved them in wood with a comb.

I'm building an old ruined abbey
Coz I'm old and infirm and quite scabby - I realise, of course, that my contribution is not in the best possible taste. Just shoot me now.
Each brick I place crumbles
The Lord above grumbles [Raak] Outstanding "subliminal" message
As His Kingdom on Earth looks so flabby
When people say "ends of the earth"
I wonder what they have "learth."
We must all reconsider our lines [cfm, KS] Maybe you should also reconsider your lines?
Lest the Limerick Police impose fines
Bad rhythm and scansion
And metric expansion Nothing remotely wrong with cfm's opener there.
Will soon provoke grumbles and whines
(Indeed: cfm's line fitted all the scansion requirements for a limerick)

When people say "ends of the earth"
They seldom mean further than Perth
But "back of beyond"
Or "over the pond"
Is never a place of great worth


There's no call nowadays for a sword
A wigwam, an easel, or fjord
Or for correction fluid
Unless you're a druid unfini
Who wants to erase a bad word.
I learned some bad words in my youth
Some obscene, others merely uncouth
One I think starts with F...?
So thank goodness I'm deaf
Or I might hear you F... Connie Booth
Reverend Spooner's speech is quite scary
To anyone quite ordinary
With consonants mangled
And vow'ls intertwangled
Ones point boon succumbs cite quantrary
[Chalky] Excellent ending. :-)
Today be piratically themed
For those who are easily memed [Chalky] Not "kite quantrary"?
Arr, me timbers do shiver
As we pass Yellow River
And anywhere else we have dreamed.
While swimming the Channel one day
I discovered I'd quite lost my way
A compass malfunction
Made me head for the junction
Outside Dover - to Chesapeake Bay...
The Brollys of ancient Cherbourg
Are lined up outside of the morgue
Les petits parapluies
Shield from raining ratatouille
The folks from Frogfunerals.org
Here's what you must do if I croak
Pierce my heart with a stake made of oak
For I am the undead
So you know what? Instead ...
Kill that strange looking werewolf bloke
Whenever I'm guessing I'm wrong
I'll simply break out into song
'Shaddapya Face' would suit my work situation right now
Rings around the workplace
But it's not by Olivia Ong.
Michelle Kwan was skating one day
When a bollard just got in her way
Alas, no triple lutz
For this ice-skating klutz
Hit the buffers, the skids and the hay.
American mothers opine
That plying their babies with wine
Will prevent ADD
But reduce ABC
And certainly make 'em quit cryin'.
When in Rome you should do as the Romans
And scrutinise entrails for omens
A goat's bloody gut
Or a eunuch's old nut
Then make a display - like a showman's
I once met a werewolf from Kent
Who helped me to put up a tent
This kind loup-garoux
Then cooked up a stew
With no meat because it was Lent
I just heard about a new diet
Put some tape 'cross your lips and keep quiet
And if/when you faint
Do show some restraint
When the urge to eat comes, then defy it.
The sticks and the stones aren't worth throwing
Except for the ones that are glowing
So instead I throw peaches
At piranhas and leeches
And cocks that are spitefully crowing
There's nowt like a good cup of char
It beats beer, wine, and coffee by far
And if the brew is Earl Grey
I would have to say
Spot on - award a gold star
A lass with huge melons, I spied
Piss-poor, Kagome. Please expunge your adolescent limerick fantasies elsewhere.
Here's the tale of a limerick prude
Who crudeness in rhyming eschewed
Bad fruit euphemisms
Resulted in schisms
And an effort to veto the lewd
Let's remember the Gunpowder Plot
Which failed; it was Fawked up a lot
Which is why every year
We all stand and cheer
While burning the Guy - what a twot
My mummy has fled from its tomb
Preferring a more deluxe room
It seems its abode
Was home to a toad
Which was held as a portent of doom
My mummy has fled from my dad
For he's a despicable cad
She's filed for divorce
And will join the Dark Force
So all things considered, I'm glad.
My mummy runs pyramid schemes
That claim to fulfil all your dreams
She's recruited her exes
Bought herself a black Lexus
And works hard to drown out the screams.
My mummy is screaming a lot
About the complaints she has got  usa
A wicked contusion
Demented confusion,
Hidden textignoring CdM's 'usa', and assuming commas at the end of lines 2 and 3, for the sake of getting this one completed
And a copious river of snot. Er, sorry - got a code id be doze.
A teenage mother from Brent
Had a neat way of paying the rent
When the landlord would knock
She put coins in a sock
With malodorif'rous intent.
There once was a man who came back [Rosie] Welcome back, hope you had a nice vacation...
To his lone little weatherboard shack
To find that inside
A donkey had died
Which his mastiff had used as a snack
There once was a fellow from Chiswick (Marc) Anything's better than this place. :-)
Who fell ill with a bout of the phthisic
Day and night he was coughing
Though he swore it was nouthing SWIDT? HYDM.
Cause of death? He was too solipsistic.
A toothless old hag in Llanelli
Brewed a strong cup of char that was deathly
Which she gave to the vicar
Who much preferred liquor
And ran his own still called "Y Felli".
The fellows who dig up the road (Raak) People have been keel-hauled for lesser crimes, of course, but there was little you could do.
Hidden text I have only ever known two, maybe three, English people who can make this sound properly, and one had lived in Wales for a short time, showing it to be a question of hearing it because it's not fundamentally difficult.
(Phil) Stout fellow.
Have a secret and unwritten code [Rosie] I wondered what you'd make of that!
"Monday morning at eight-"
"Number 10, by the gate"
Bring biscuits and plenty of woad
My friend the guitarist told me
That every time he plays barred G (taking the stress to be on the middle syllable of guitarist, though there is another way of reading the line that also works)
He gets cramp in his wrist
And curses Franz Liszt
Which seems a bit pointless, to me.
I've realised something profound [Rosie, Raak] There was a limerick on one of these sites long ago where I rhymed Llanelli with "pallor most "delli". 'Course, in that case, the rhyme was perfect, but was only an approximation to the pronunciation of the English word -- a subtle difference from Raak's case. I'm half Welsh, so I can pronounce Llanelli half decently.
Which, I believe, will astound
A single red rose
And a line writ in prose
Will get her to bed in a bound
[C,S,J,M,i] Jolly good - I like a bit of optimism

The problem with getting new teeth
Is the old ones are hard to bequeath
But plant them outside
And treat them with pride
And spread loads of enamel beneath...
To grow a whole garden of molars
One must pot them in inverted bowlers
So all of you misers
And dull early risers
Get digging and make some violas. (Herr B) Sorry, couldn't resist it.
I've been 'round for 28 years
But dieting's one of my fears
So now I'm obese
All blubber and crease
So pass me twelve more lovely beers.
There's possibly nothing as bad
As Gaga's new meaty dress fad
It grows germs and maggots
(Which can make tasty faggots)
Plus I've heard that the cows used were mad
As I set off to tour round the world
I make sure that my beard is well curled Ho, ho, ho.
My red and white cloak
(Colors courtesy of Coke)
Is my aerofoil when unfurled.
Be merciful with your poor boss
Someday you will report a net loss
Of some zillions of pounds
A sum that astounds
But he still blame the workers of course
"Take care as you go up that ladder",
And more HSA yadda-yadda Health & Safety Authority
"At all times beware" (Raak) Isn't it the HSE (Executive)?
" 'cause our lousy health care"
[Rosie] So it seems. If I had looked at my Google results more closely, I would have seen that the HSA is the Irish version.
"Won't clean up the blood that you spatter."
A boy scout once knocked on my door
But I soon had him pinned to the floor
Saying "Show me your woggle"
Hidden text(Phil) Hoping for Bob a Gob Job?
"and I'll help you boondoggle"
It's now no wonder I'm sore coat!
While scoffing my night-time banana (Softers) You clearly weren't Prepared.
I gazed out at the Kenyan savannah
When along came a monkey
No, a gibbon most funky
Who winked and said, "See you mañana!"
I plan only one resolution:
An end to methane pollution
Eliminate cattle!
And you'll see that that'll
Minimize gas distribution
If the Euro does go down the pan
If the Euro does go down the pan
Whoops - got the 2-for-1 offer by mistake
I shall unveil my dastardly plan
(bifurcation) I'll buy every cabbage I can
And restore threepenny bits Route 1
To resort to barter Route 2
Which clearly is smarter Route 2
Try stop staring at tits Route 1
Than selling French nukes to Iran Route 2
And write better lines if I can... End of route 1
There once was an impatient killer
Who was known to resemble Camilla
Her frightful coiffure
Which was less than demure
Made her look like a bad Phyllis Diller
Let us all now praise the spider
And resist the strong urge to deride her
For her wondrous web
From April to Feb.
Accounts for the insects inside her
Now it's less than a week until Christmas
I'll retire to my own private isthmus
Feast on egg nog and manta
Festooned with diamante
[cfm] Come on, that doesn't rhyme and hardly scans - how about
And, as a present from Santa,
[INJ] A touch of the shoehorn there?
Some glasses to cure my strabismus. Following INJ.
When your scansion is called into question
Be open to any suggestion
Do not post crappy lines
Or you'll have to pay fines
For causing grammatic indigestion
Dear Santa I've been a good boy
So what if I'm Jewish, not goy
I've said my baruchs
And kept off all hooches
A day of good kosher joy
If you want we could meet at the pub
For a pint and a nice syllabub (Slight failure of rhymage in line 4 of previous. Mind you, what English word rhymes with 'baruchs'?
[Knobbly] "loud heuchs"?
Hopefully there's trivia (as for rhying with baruchs - Tuques, kooks, Luke's, nukes, souks . . .)
About Oman or Bolivia
And something resembling fair grub.
I put some crushed ice in my shaker
And added a loaf from the baker
Three jiggers of rye
Two ounces of lye
I'm preparing to now meet my Maker
"NOW THE ENDING IS NEAR - PLEASE BEWARE!"
Said the pilot, when flying RyanAir
Then turbulence hit
And the purser said "Shit!"
And the queue for the loo, c'est la guerre.
There once was a cute little maiden
Whose talent was lovely hair braidin'
Her fingers flew faster
Than light - then disasteru
She saw that the colour was fadin'
A fella with long flowing locks
, a beret and some blue argyle socks
Approached me and said
"I would not be seen dead!
In anything but fancy frocks"
My tailor and I are in tune/b>
Since we danced by the light of the moon
He has measured me up
For the Tailor Dance Cup
Which takes place promptly at noon!
She liked her hair long and skirts short
And to drink: a small lime and port
But question 'her' gender ... interesting that the last ten limericks bar one have been started by the same two contributors ...
Is "she" really a bender?
I'd check but I'd end up in court
As we journey through life, we should try Excellent finish Darren
To have ready a good alibi
And to question the fitness
Of each expert witness
Because folks, given chance, often lie.

The passage from thought into words
Proves tricky for most geeks and nerds ...[cfm,CdM,R,pen] classy teamwork :)
To help their expression
Or fervid confession
They should sing it with flat minor thirds. Bluesy . . . .
Using mice and a furlong of string
I fashioned some low-budget bling
That I'd tie to my cat
In the way of a hat
Which made it quite easy to fling
Spare a thought for the down-trodden vole
Who is often confused with the mole
But the piles that they leave
If you look, won't deceive
'Cos it all comes out of a hole.
Tonight I will go to the pub
For the craic, a pint, and some grub
Perhaps a quick song
Then, if nothing goes wrong
I'll be throwing some shapes at a club
And if I'm in luck, then I'll pull
A fancy trick on a bull
It won't buck me off
If I don't start to cough
And my evening would then count as full.
When I do take the bull by the horns
The damn thing stands on my corns
But after some bellows
My misery mellows
'til I take 'nother Gin spiked with thorns...
My carpenter hammered and screwed
He was quite the industrious dude
He made me a closet
In which I deposit
Young Marc when he tries to be lewd :)
My mother is ninety today
So I'll sing her a song, if I may
"Knees up Mother Brown"
And she'll then go to town
For her regular 'roll in the hay'...
On the telly I saw Doctor Phil
Who said I should take this blue pill
But I took the red
My love life is dead
And the willy now lacks all its will
The firm Williams, Johnson & Dick This crowd is a v bad influence
Has taken a great deal of stick
But these upstanding men
Will, no doubt, come again
And give all your egos a prick. MOVING ON
A day in the country is nice
A breath of fresh air for my lice
And my worms like the view
As I visit the loo
And dispose of my dodgy fried rice.
I'm learning to trust my optician
But I still have a nagging suspicion
He's paid just to flatter
Which shouldn't much matter
As I already have perfect vision
With one of my ears on the floor
And the other one nailed to the door
I'm over-extended
Much more than intended
But my ears do not ring anymore
I think that my tongue's swelling up!
I find my pint I cannot sup
But if I had a straw
Or two, three, or more
I'd sip from this large china cup
One day we will run out of air
You'll inhale--and it just won't be there
And no-one will hear
Your screaming with fear
And there will be noone to care
I hope when I breathe my last breath
Of the fumes from that sweet crystal meth
That I'll be in the arms
Of the great Chelsea Charms
And that she is not clearly brain death.
I hope when I drop from this coil This theme is a bit deadly, isn't it?
And I'm under six feet of soil
That someone will say
"He was great in his day"
"But now he is starting to spoil"
I'll be pushing up daisies one day
Until then I'll be happy and gay
I'll dance right through life
With one not my wife [irach] LOL--great line.
Never caring what others might say
I'm hoping when I kick the bucket
It will make the front page in Pawtucket
My corpse they'll cremate
In a neighbouring state
And scatter the ash in Nantucket

Apols for 3 lines - I've never done that before AFAIR, but I had an uncontrollable urge.
There once was a doddy old fool
Who fancied a swim in the pool
He made a high dive
Then - heavens alive -
Trunks slipped, revealed fam'ly jewel
I am stuck in this game what 'bout you?
They should lock all of us in a zoo
They could then charge admission
And give no remission
Till at least twenty minutes past two
I haven't a clue what to say
My mind's in complete disarray
I feel so confused
By words I have choosed
I think I'll just go away
Four minutes and thirty-three seconds
It took to peel 43 almonds (tricky rhyming there, good luck to line 5)
Lemonds?
Now her marzipan beckons
So her pastry chef reckons
Pate d'amande sera bien charmante
Desperate attempt to escape the cage with the unconventional ABA*A*B* limerick rhyming scheme.
I've broken my grandma's sledgehammer
While breaking up rocks in the slammer
She was here years ago
Her offense? I don't know
Except she was a wife of Osama
The thing about being best friends
Should be that the fun never ends
How much fun it would be
If we went out to sea
And you dove and came up with the bends
Come on, you've got nothing to lose
From walking in A. Nother's shoes
When you've walked for one mile
You can pause for a while
And sing a song -- A. Nother's Blues
There once was a song 'bout a girl
Who had a wild fling with an earl
Though not born to the manner or manor, if you prefer
She checked in her planner
To find he was down as a churl
Amazing how few rhymes there are for "girl", as I found when writing a song who's hook line ends with it. Pain in the arse for lyricists...
burl, curl, earl, hurl, kerl, merl, merle, nerl, pearl, searl, searle, shirl, sperl, sperle, swirl, twirl, whirl
and my favorite, unfurl
There once was a song 'bout a boy
Who played every day with his toy
He'd first make it stand
With a flick of his hand
In a way that would give him much joy
Then after, he'd fold it away
[Mom] Perhaps I should have said useful rhymes :-)
His mom would scold him, and say
"You're just so self-centered!"
"Come on, get re-entered!"
I do not care to know how this one ends, thanks.
"And finish our last Wordfeud play!" [cfm]Have you got a pervert mind?
The flowers that bloom in the spring, don't you see? Moving swiftly on - I agree with cfm, the last couple were satisfying only one or two *ahem* 'players'. And neither of them were me.
[pen] Agreed. But that line needs shortening. Hope you don't mind if I go:
The flowers that bloom in the spring
Are saluting the birds on the wing
While the bees and the bears
Are putting on airs
and dancing the mambo to swing.
When needing three hots and a cot
I recommend my favorite spot
On Dartmoor it's found
Right behind that black hound
and it's ten quid up front for the lot!
An inscrutable girl from Japan
Went the distance with old Jackie Chan
But the man from Hong Kong
(Still wearing his thong)
Took one look at her mother and ran
I fancy a third cup of tea
But the caffeine does not fancy me
It gives me the jitters
My heart patters and pitters
And worst of all, I'll have to pee
I've three hundred papers to mark
Before I go hunting the Snark
So I'll tick here and there
(Which is all I can bear)
And the rest's just a shot in the dark
On Friday, my mind starts to wander
To racing my gold-plated Honda
Or a ride on my Harley ?
Singin' "Work" by Bob Marley
And dressing a bit like Jane Fonda.
Cross-dressing at weekends for fun
Was a priest's habit, dressed as a nun
To add to the thrill
One more layer of frill
Transmogrification is done
We all seem to relish cross-dressing
It's the sauce for much delicatessing
Once you've chucked on a frock
You're no longer a jock
Which you'll soon come to learn is a blessing
Many good poems lately, in many locations :)
My uncle has just lost his wig
Exclaiming, "I don't give a frig!"
He's now on his knees [Have to divulge that I'd rather hoped that Condiments may have driven the last limerick [given that cross-dressing has been done to death on these sites]. Having been gifted 'relish' and 'dressing' - 'sauce' was an obvious choice, as was 'delicatessing'. Vinaigrette, mayonnaise, aioli, mustard, chutney and ketchup, salt and pepper, etc. could have all played a part. Clearly - I was *overthinking* it. UK - you're fired :-)]
Begging, "Dear Chalky, please"
"Bend over and grunt like a pig..."
[MP] Coward. Name yourself.
So Easter was just wet and cold
[pen] Astonishingly, 'twas not I
My chocolate's all covered in mould
And the poor Easter Bunny
Has a nose red and runny
He's really a sight to behold!
There once was a maiden so chaste
She thought cous-cous had too strong a taste
And as for harissa
Her tongue and her kisser
Fell off, so she had them replaced
I'm wondering what I should wear
Three-piece suit, Highland kilt, or stark bare?
Birthday suits are not fancy
But, according to Nancy,
There's no need to iron or pair
It's been left on the side for a week
And quite frankly, it's starting to reek
It's time to progress
And clean up this mess
So let's finish and go take a leak...
It's Monday and morning star rise
What a bright day - now take my advise:
Take a lungful of air
Jug a two week's dead hare
And don ye a pirate disguise
The forecast for Sunday is wet
That won't stop me -- it never has yet!
I'll be down on the beach
Attempting to teach
The old dog some tricks for a bet
The problem with thinking too much
Is that it give one an ache in the crotch
Cos my organ for thought
Have mind which is fraught ... what a heap of twaddle #channelingRosie
But it's positive thinking, as such...
I have never been able to dance
Do you think you could teach me, perchance?
With both my left feet
I'm willing to cheat
And show how they do it in France
According to French legislation
Islam is an alien nation
But in banning the veil
They'll let every male
Get horny on seeing an Asian.
My legs are all twitchy today
They simply will swivel and sway
I've gone weak at the knees
I don't think it's the fleas
If you don't mind I'll fold them away
[UK, R, P, S, R] Applause

I'm truly beginning to rot
Oh golly, I've been such a clot
Trench foot has set in
I act like a cretin
although I will vow that I'm not.
I'm known for mixing my words
You may sample sweet coffee or turds
So stor a fart
Go tick up a part
And fly like those bautical nerds
A candle-lit dinner for two
Is a popular thing to do
So on Valentine's Day
I will ask if I may
"Is it washing or drying you'll do?"
A trip to the beach might be nice
The sun, sea and sand do entice
With bucket and spade
And a brolly for shade
Topped off with a nice strawb'ry ice
The brain ghosts I see are all green
And they all want to cut out my spleen
Which I have been venting
With zeal unrelenting
Though rarely can it be seen
A phantom is haunting my lung
And now and then spooking my tongue
It wafts through my larynx
Via my nasopharynx
My ability to speak has gone bung
If you see a spectre abroad
It's likely to be Our Sweet Lord
But if the spectre has horns
Then, as the day dawns,
You'll see it's Nick Clegg - best ignored.
[Rosie] neat ending :)
Behold this condensed apparition
A product of dark superstition
Alive or undead
Or all in your head
Like a thumping nocturnal emission. (Chalky) Tu es très gentille.
Applause please - the wraith has ignited
My interest in Scunthorpe United
A team which just lacks
Defence and attacks
Thank goodness my love's unrequited.
audience applauds Tuj's finale*
*points out sins of omission*
And now, on the thirteenth of June
I wonder if it is too soon
To start Christmas shopping
Or New Year bed hopping
Or flying my hot air balloon
The Eurozone's future is dodgy (Chalky) Deliciously disgraceful.
As My Big Fat Greek Wedding, so podgy
The drachma and lira
May soon reappear, a
Sure sign the economy's stodgy
I have some pesetas indoors
Which Angela Merkel deplores Last one v. good esp. CdM & Softers.
"Ein Volk, Reich, und Geld!"
She recently yelled
And on cue - Georgios Samaras scores - ... they still lost 2 - 4 though :(
Last night as I shaved my left armpit
The razor was causing me harm - shit! ... rising to the challenge
As it scraped of the hairs
And with them my cares
I took a large nick from my tit! coat!
Softers - would've been even better as 'darn tit'
[Chalks] You can't get a man to curse a boob - they love them too much.
It's green eggs and ham every day
Or it would be - if Seuss had his way!
His prandial obsession
Drives one to depression
And it ain't even kosher, oy, vey!
Sliced thin, on rye, with brown mustard
Or served with fish fingers and custard
Whenever it's served
It's still quite absurd
Not to savour a plump baby bustard.
Thai chicken and lemongrass soup
A melon - a nice cantaloupe
No, give me baked beans
(And you know what that means!)
We're back in the flatulence loop
I'll settle for boeuf a la croute
Served up in a black leather boot
Cooked rare, by a wench
That I'd like to clench
Resplendent in her birthday suit.
Kofta curry and pork vindaloo
Are the height of cuisine – in my view
But then, I am fond
Of a good Sussex Pond
And the minds of Essex girls too
[Raak] Ooooh, I haven't cooked one in ages. Time for a revival I think :)
We eat and we drink - pee and shit
Then we do it again -- is that it?
Well, also, there's work
And the ultimate perk
Reproduction - that helps a bit.
While sipping my coffee-to-go
I got stuck in ten feet of pure snow
But, when cometh the spring
Caffeine gave me a zing
And already I've started to glow
I’ll switch to the gill- and the fin-mode
'cause we've water all over our main road
The Met Office says
It's raining for days
So my hair-drier's hit "overload"
My strimmer has broken - alas!
Please borrow my strummer, it's world class!
It does make a racket
'Tho' it cost me a packet
And the one thing it baulks at is grass.
I'm struggling to find any meaning
With offering Free Window Cleaning
To some it's quite clear
It's because you can peer
up the nethers of anyone leaning.
There once was an elderly goat
Who'd spawned several offspring of note
The Grand Druid of Wales
Often ran off the rails
Then got stoned and sowed out his wild oat...
There once were five spicy girls singing
But now they sound flat and look minging
If Take That re-formed
Then let us be warned
Alarm bells should be set ringing
There once was a Samurai hero
Whose score in swordfighting was zero
Though lacking in skill
He managed to kill
Both Lulu and Helen Shapiro. Bastard!
There once was a girl that could sing
(or so she once thought) anything
But once on the "X"
She lowered her kecks
And sang "Desert Song" a la Sting
The thing about artisan bread
Is its guaranteed freedom from lead
Instead you will find
That it makes you go blind
So I'll eat Hovis® instead
A vacation that is what we need
To drink beer, and cider, and mead
Relax by the pool
Eating gooseberry fool
Did anyone bring any weed?
I woke today with a sore throat
So I chewed on a piece of fried stoat
And to my surprise
I've a three octave rise
In a ditty I sing with my goat
This soup, with its noodles and chicken
Is good for the ill and flu-stricken
And even, some say
Keeps the lurgi at bay
In need though of Rum to un-thicken
When treating a bronchial infection
You'd better obey this direction
To draw out the phlegm
Just shout out "A-hem!"
And prepare for social rejection.
When drawing your last living breath
Here's what you can do to cheat death
Grab the Grim Reaper's scythe
With a gesture most blithe
Shouting, "Is this a knife?", like Macbeth
If you can't tell a knife from a spoon
You'll get classified as a loon
So just use a fork
When screwing a cork
And, yes, you are a buffoon
I uncorked a cru Beaujolais
With a vigneron from Régnié
But in getting my glass
I fell on my arse
Hidden text( M Logiciel) I am disappointed, as they say, that you have not pointed out that the first two lines don't rhyme.
So I guess I won't drink it today.
Down at the pub when I ordered my beer [M Rosé] c'est un petit point contesté, peut être.
[Software] By no stretch of poetic license does that scan into a limerick. I suggest:
Software - Down the pub when I ordered my beer
The barman said, "Be of good cheer!"
You're mighty good lookin'
Hidden text[Rosie] It's a subtlety that I think even French poets would get away with. Similar to 'glass' and 'arse', which don't rhyme terribly well for the majority of English speakers (even in England). It all worked out to be a good Limerick though, IMHO :-)
You do really good cookin'
So just maybe you should work here!
Who in their right mind would say
That duckin' an' divin' don't pay
For evading the law
(as a thug, thief or whore)
(not to mention the great CIA...)
I've invented a new kind of chair
It seats both you and your confrere
Your discreet tête-a-tête
Might make you be late
Hello, hello, hello. What's goin'on 'ere, then?
Because you can't go anywhere.
[Scansion Police] I read cfm's line as " it suits both you and your confrere." Sort of fits.
My village is threatened with Lidl
Let's hope the development bid'll
Fall foul of the planners
Or else protest banners
Will foil the town councillors' fiddle
Next week on the old village green
Is the festival of the obscene
We'll all go sheep-tupping
Unless we're one-upping
Then we'll shout: Hello Wean - you're so mean!"
Hello Wean, I have heard you've been here,"
Hidden textRosie, Software, Raak and Gil: I like the Lidl one :-)

Is the phrase that we don't want to hear
Because of the hype
And our pumpkins are ripe
Understood, then it's time to disappear.
We end up being eaten by worms
(It's in the conditions and terms)
If the deal's terminated
With the worms left unsated
We're reborn as a bunch of mean germs.
I can't help but think that that my wife
Is going to cause me more more strife :o)
Her insatiable needs
For thick Harris Tweeds
Have virtually killed our sex life
Tomorrow I vow that I will
Tell Starbucks their product is swill
And then let's all partay
With mugs of real lahtay
And stick Howard Schultz with the bill
For those really hard to reach places
And other quite difficult cases
Try this handy new cleaner
Her name is Georgina
Employed on a no clean, no shag basis.
If out to eliminate bacteria
You need to eschew all hysteria
Calmly use bleach
On every and each
And then your milieu will be clearier
sorry sorry sorry
[pen] fair enough :-)
In London it's raining today
Elsewhere it's flooding they say
But I haven't seen yet
A great spouting jet Surprised the word "posterior" didn't come up in that last one ;-)
Like the one at Trafalgar Square Bay...
I eat a durian each day
And I get them for free, do not pay
And while they are stinky
Like my wee willie-winky
They increase your libido, so-say
Some lines are real close to perfection
I've written one for your inspection
And if you look here
To get a good steer
There's a clue to their mode of erection
In a market in old Timbuctu
An old friend I by chance bumped into
And since we were two
We knocked up a stew
Of camel and goat and mantu
In a hotel in snowy Siberia
Where the rooms and the beds are inferior
To those in Bulgaria
Where the toilets are airier oblig.
Your breakfast is free from bacteria... (...they've frozen to death...)
In a tuk tuk in wet Kalimpong
You can go right -- or you can go wrong
Sometimes up - sometimes down
And in some parts of town
Get whatever you like for a song
Now soon a new year will arrive
It divides by three but not five
Sum up its digits - that's six
Then put them into the mix
What pleasure from sums we derive!
Hidden text[irach & software] I didn't want to start the new year off on a pedantic note, but If you delete "up" and "Then" from your lines, respectively, they scan much more nicely

With unbroken sunshine today After two weeks of time off work - and rain every day
I'm going to come out and play
Work can wait till next week
Meanwhile let us seek
Many reasons to laugh and be gay ...in honour of Softers' coming out.
I sing 'cos I'm glad to be gay playing along
And a friend of the late Ronnie Kray
Through the songs that I sing
Haven't brought me much bling
I did meet Sinatra one day!
Next week I'll be joining a band
Of barbarians, roaming the land
'Cos I've signed for Port Vale
(I'm told they serve ale)
But their football is a bit bland
Next year is the Year of the Snake
I'll hit the dammed thing with my rake
Before I'll let it crawl
Up my lavat'ry wall (Softers) Were you thinking of
Hidden text My friend Billy's got a ten-foot willy/And he showed it to the girl next door/She thought it was a snake/So she hit it with a rake/And now it's only six foot four.
?
And admit that it was my mistake....
In Eden the apples are ripe
And of aphrodisiac type
So I baked a nice pie
For my hubby to try
But the proof of the pudding is hype
'Hail fellow! Well met!' said the pastor
(Of true bonhomie he's the master)
With a wink and a grin
He absolved me of sin
Confession just got somewhat faster!
On the first day of Februar-ee
Thirty eight things my love gave to me: [C,R,S,p,P] Nice.
One was a jewel
And one was a tool
Which he inserted delicat-lee.
American football's confusing
Or possibly downright bemusing
Most don't touch the ball
Though players are tall
Superb owls are much more amusing
She is wise as an owl I've been told
Her knowledge is quite manifold
On the subject of voles
She impresses the proles
Though that's hardly one of her goals.
When Richard the third called for 'horse' something topical for a change
'Twas past time to bargain, of course
You can't use a nation
For experimentation
Though many do so, and by force.
I'd like to replace "experimentation" with "negotiation" in that last limerick. :-)
They're preparing for this year's Grand Prix
We'll be fighting on land and at sea
From Le Mans to Dubai
Yeongam and Shanghai
And what's left of the old Aral Sea.
Oscar, my dear, your red rug
Is home to many a bug
Tho' to you it is cosy
It's hellish for Rosie
Who itches and cannot get snug.
The slanderous comments above
And the full implications thereof
Are herewith rescinded
In manner long-winded
Devoted to brother and sisterly love...!
The Conclave's elected Pope Mary,
Who plans to be Jesus's fairy
A pontiff with wings
Who can do magic things
But the giveaway is - she's so hairy
Bugger - insert quotation marks around "she's" if you would
The puff of white smoke tells us all
That the popemobile's just hit the wall
But look out, now it's black! (...the smoke of course...)
Is Benedict back?
Or a reincarnated John-Paul?

When tales are retold you will know
That the heroes of long, long ago
Committed great deeds
While riding their steeds
Yelling "Woe-Hi-Di-Hi-Hi-Di-Hoe!"
In the Alps they are yod'ling a lot,
While their cheese gently boils in the pot
Such stereotyping
And Franco-Swiss griping
Is likely to get someone shot
Italians, in gen'ral, are charming
Their generals, though, are alarming
Their finances are scary
Signoras faces so hairy
Which is why generals find them disarming
But the Greeks are, truth to tell,
Descendants of heaven and hell .. a tad short on footage Pablo but think we can make it work ...
Just now it's the latter (Chalks) 'E fough' itza peon-unny recipe, dinny?
Though only a matter
That Cyprus will go down as well
A Monegasque makes a fine friend
With big pots of money to lend
He dresses in green
And bows to the queen
So you'll see where it's all going to end!
Are you ready to start your new life?
As side-kick to old Mack the Knife
But as opera's go
This threepenny show
Is more suited for somebody's wife.
Sorry, for got the line break!
I chanced upon Lady Godiva
Who said; "If you'll give me a fiver,
I'll cut off my hair
But I hope you're aware
on a horse, I'm not such a good driver.
At luncheon with old Friar Tuck
We dined on a stew of braised duck
We saved the skimmed fat
To give to the cat
And using the catflap, she stuck!
Thenceforth to Maid Marian's for tea [last line .. worth the wait. Nice one SM]
A generous hostess is she
A Battenburg cake
(The marzipan's fake!)
Goes well with a glass of Chablis
In the pub with my friend Little John
I thought 'What the hell's going on?'
For he'd got out his staff
And then just for a laugh
He poked it up my sit-upon.
Lovely!
Will Scarlett's a rum sort of fellow [PPNcR] Heehehehehehe
"Come chase me!", he's oft-heard to bellow.
Then he shins up a tree
And cries, "Come, follow me!"
But sadly they're all far too yellow
At the wedding of Alan-a-Dale
The couple wore matching chain mail
Her chastity belt
Could hardly be felt
And his, back-to-front, had a tail.
I can hardly believe I wrote that. Inexcusable
[pen] I can. Excusable. Funny
The green-fingered Sherriff of Nottingham
Grew cannabis plants, and was potting 'em [pen] Digusting! I hardly know where to put myself. Somewhat like Alan-a-Dale, it seems!
When in burst the cops
And said "Are these hops?"
He said "Yes, well done for spotting 'em." (Ladies) Can't have too much femfilth.
Sir Guy of Gisbourne gets quite cross
When you stand in the way of his hoss
"Begone, varlet!" he'll shout
"Lest I give thee a clout"
"And into my dungeons you toss."
Now Robin, that man with the hood
Claimed his motives were thoroughly good
Steal from rich, give to poor
(Unlike Osborne and more)
Then make merry with maids in the wood.
And as for that wicked King John
Who thought that the battle he'd won
Would earn him respect
Instead, he got decked
So the limerick game could go on
In trying to unscramble an egg
I soon spent an arm and a leg [Quen] Liked that - good finish!
My marbles got lost
My salad got tossed
And I noticed you'd emptied my keg ...
Though she knew he was called Jack the Ripper
And she'd heard what he did to young Pippa
She couldn't resist
A hazardous tryst
So thank God he got stuck in his zipper
[M, C, S and P] Nicely done, if I say so myself. Let's crack open some pre-war ginger beer!
This bottle of old ginger beer why not?
Was brewed on the banks of the Wear
In nineteen-oh-two
In a stevedore's shoe
No wonder it tastes rather queer
*flees*
The worst thing to say to a Swede
Is to ask him: "Just how do you breed?"
His reply, you will see
Just between you and me
Involves ABBA and herrings. And mead!
The sunburn that glows on my neck
Will keep my libido in check
And apart from the spots
That I've got by the lots
There's the fact I'm a banking exec.
But really, the public should thank us
We are, after all, quite high rankers
And we haven't, quite yet
learned the alphabet
but we're primo at being bankers!
This first line should set us alight
Make us shiver, if we've done it right
And further additions
or even omissions
Well made, yield the greatest delight.
Rise up, all you left-handed folks!
And publish your best rated jokes
But say nothing sinister
Or I'll call your minister
And believe me, that threat is no hoax.
A monk and a rabbi ate dinner
of kerosene and of paint thinner
This combustible fare
Consumed on a dare
Made one nor the other a winner.
Nice finish, Kagje.
A day full of procrastination
May contain brief bouts of fascination
F'rinstance with clips
Of wiggly hips
Or else some discombobulation wipes brow
A chihuahua and terrier cross
Decided that he was the boss
So the dachshund got fired
The golden retired
And the rest ... ? Not one gives a toss.
There once was a cat from Andorra
Whose whiskers grew morer and morer
Till this Pyrenees mog
(Real name Quentin Hogg)
Belted her one - she got sorer
When Mitzi took umbrage, she aimed .. u s a perhaps? ..
Through her sights at the one man she blamed
His scathing reviews
Was not ment to amuse
But some other fellow got framed.
Never admit you're from Chatham
In New Hampshire, the same goes for Stratham
But if you're from Bath
Yer good for a larf
When it started to rain in Bath
Ummm, shall we finish the previous Limerick first?
Never admit you're from Chatham
In New Hampshire, the same goes for Stratham
But if you're from Bath
Yer good for a larf
Unlike Strasbourg (once Argentoratum)

When it started to rain in Bath
I outgrabe like a mome rath
But my feeling of whimsy
Was fleeting and flimsy forcing attempt denied
As I fled from the borogove path
I once lunched in Stow-on-the-Wold
My starter was greasy and cold
The main course inedible
The bill was incredible
And the walls were all covered in mold. Sorry about that not finishing last time. I guess one should not play when one is extremely tired, even if for odd reasons, one cannot sleep.
I once gave a farmer a lift [Phil] I am insulted! The Strasbourgeois are lots of fun!
He just had some garlic, and whiffed
I deployed my ejector
To a vertical vector [nights] I'm sure they are, given the quantity of beer brewed there. I was simply struggling for a rhyme :-)
Then launched into orbit quite swift…
Tomorrow the Moon will return
From its weekend out with Saturn
While the moon was away Excuses, excuses... :)
The earth did decay
So perhaps it is best to adjourn?
There's nothing as fast as a cheetah
So says my feline speed-o-meter
But if you want slow
(So slow it don't show) internal rhyme alert...
Watch lichen — a sloth record-beater.
Today, I am dyeing. It's black... (re-dying faded black clothes black)
As a glass of black mild Nutty Slack
Its minute albedo
Is just right for sado- ...that was a tricky one, Rosie.
-lin, Matching my nice Chapeau Claque.
(gil) Yeah, a bit clever-clever, but there's speedo, libido, paedo, lido, credo, Toledo.
All my clothes have been eating by moths
And my shoes have been slothing by sloths Making a feature out of the quirk of KS's line
And as for my hats
They're all nested by bats
So they think I've been haunting by Goths
We are what we eat we have heard
So I'm mostly tomatoes and curd
And I'm a nice curry
I eat in a hurry
And for me, olives are the last word
The practice of oenomancy
Is one that the Romans did fancy
By sharing a cask
An enquirer could ask
Which actions were safe and which chancy
A strapping young fellow named Clancy
When working the clubs was called Nancy
He strapped while she stripped
And flopped while he flipped
For the clients who all took his fancy
That all-soft'ning o'erpowering knell
Means you're on a journey to Hell Not you, m'dear.
Slip into the mire
To a fate that is dire
And our trip down the hill ´s going swell.
There's a gap in my force-field of love
Through which demons and succubi shove
It's a worm-hole of lust
And romance turns to dust
Which flies to the clouds up above.
This journey could go on forever
And is surely not worth the endeavor
For when we arrive
From a very long drive
There's been a change in the weather
There's a feeling - or is it just me? -
That this verse will stop dead at line three
I'm not one to doubt.








If I reincarnate as a puffin
I'll mulishly call myself Muffin
On the island of Lundy
My partner and me
Will nest-build from navels with fluff in.
We have heard that the winner takes all [T, R, R, S, B]Excellent, free drinks tonight!
But don't fret should the wealth start to gall
Cash can't bring you joy
Unless you're called Roy
But it's better than bugg*r all
[Softers] If I may be so bold - you are significantly short-syllabled and arrhythmic in both your last entries .. thought you'd sussed this game by now ;-)

Marc - The Scansion-class this Fall semester
Will be taken by the head jester [Chalks] I disagree, it does work.
The Rhymer's a clown
The jester will frown
At the way that these matters obsessed her.
Hidden textIt's a jestess.

All our efforts to set the bar higher [Softers] Hope we can agree to disagree. ;-)
have us jumping from skillet to fire
Where we are consumed (Funny Girl) You're right. I'll have a word with him next time he's over.
All pedants presumed [Chalks] Naturally :o)
Class dismissed and now also ceasefire.
Debate is a most healthy thing
At the Darby and Joan Club in Tring
It helps them stay young
And grease up their tongue
So with their friends they can swing
In Somerset, Dorset and Devon
They're always in bed by eleven
But the people of Hants
Are just putting on pants
And they won't be back home until seven
In the flat agricultural east
All cult'ral activity has ceased
The turnips are ready
So tasty but thready
Fit neither for man nor for beast
So The Ashes will grind to an end
With rain being England's best friend
And Broady and Swann
Turn their sprinklers on
As they've more than a penny to spend No takers all week? Ah well.
While spending an evening in Kettering (Chalky) We can lose with grace, but not win.
Perfecting my copperplate lettering
I blotted my book
(As the locals say,"fook!")
Putting paid to my hopes for its bettering.
My computer has not crashed today
Unusual for Windows®, they say
And although I'm pleased
I know if I sneezed
My screen would collapse and turn grey...
Good morning all poets it's time
To celebrate autumn in rhyme
Write of 'mellow' and 'fruit'
And rabbits to shoot
With apples to pick in their prime
But what do you say of the rain?
Well, it's wet and it goes down the drain
It hangs out in pools I thought 'puddles' would be too hard to rhyme. You're welcome
And obeys fluid rules
Before long it will come back again.
The rain in Spain, so they say
Mainly falls on the plain every day
But the Sierra Nevada Some very dubious climatology here.
(the one in Granada)
Is fine all year round, so "Olé!"
While enjoying a Café au Lait
I was asked, "Are you well?". I said "Très!"
Mais le cuillère est bent
Et la tasse 'as une dent - just googled le cuillère to check my schoolgirl french. Ooh la kama sutra la!
Mais le goût, je vous dis, est OK.
*applauds*
*Applauds the limerick; winces at the Franglais*
[Phil] Then I reckon we need more practice...
Aujourd 'hui, le naming de parts
comme les fruits pour le making of tarts
Will commence avec plum
Bien sur, mon ol' chum
Mais ils font tous nos dents plutôt schwartz Aha! See what I did there.
Demain machen wir ein gateau
Mor drwm â'r Tibetan Plateau (Welsh) "as heavy as the".
Ik heb een gros pain
Horror vacui my brain
Und el pastel est dans my zapato
Enough now let's get back to work
Said the dull-witted jobsworth from Chirk
Then off went th'alarm My Dad's from near Chirk.
At 5 on the farm
So he got himself up with a jerk
The jerk I got up with today
Is not worth the money I pay
He costs seventeen pence
I must have no sense
I hope he'll just go away
The mocking the trainspotter suffers
In anorak stood by the buffers
The trains passing by
See the young 'spotter cry
"What's 'Get a life!' mean, you duffers?"
Young Pablo just timed to perfection
His disdain for social rejection
He avoided a snub
But this is the rub
And we offer him full time protection.
Today I think I will shuffle
My coats - both trench and duffle [Chalky] young???
- graze the floor as I walk
And muffle my talk
And fill my big mouth with fine truffle.
Glanting rain and sprale winds are forecàst
In Zeroia the land of my past
Where spallion fields grow
Fine cronx in the snow
And my abras are blooming at last.
Her knickers were bloomy and pink
I smiled, she laughed with a wink.
And as she bent down
A fart rent her gown
And that's what's done drove me to drink
Campari, Pernod, Gin and Whisky
All in a pint glass rather risky
Add a few whites of eggs
To stiffen the dregs
Scoff it down, and feel rather frisky
Your challenge this Tuesday is thus:
Take a flock of wild geese on the bus.
When you reach Euston Square
Disembark with a pair
As the others quack "What about us?" bugger me, talking geese.
The students in British Lit
Should study the format a bit! K-S - you're a syllable short, m'dear!!
The syntax and grammar
Cause newbies to stammer
Plus most think that Shakespeare is shit.
There once was a Viking called Jeff
Who chiselled the first letter F
When faced with the second
Distraction soon beckoned
And instead of Jeff, he was Jef.
Hidden textHey, Edward Lear always used the same ending word for the first and last lines of his limericks.

An orthodox rabbi called Skuld
Discovered his cocoa had cooled
He said to Verðandi
Your blowtorch comes handy
But it's strange that it is bejeweled.
Your challenge this Tuesday is this:
To be pleasant to your little sis
But as for your brother
Your father and mother,
Just carry on taking the piss.
There once was a man from the States
Named Billy - but he had No Mates
Except for Tim Nice
And Leontyne Price
Which kind of restricted his dates
A tale of forbidden papayas It was the idea of a restricted date that got me thinking on these lines
And lovers in heat on the playas
Gave way to the sun
Which ruined the fun
This UV is just sent to try us.
Your challenge this Tuesday is risky
To make it to lunch without whisky
And restrain your desires
To start small office fires
And entice the young temps to be frisky.
On Wednesday the sun will go nova
We'll be done to a crisp; it's Game Over
So let's party all week
Give our fun cells a tweak
And spend the final few moments in clover
My teeth are all falling apart They are.
They're going to hell in a cart
So chewing's a chore
And biting's a bore
It sucks being such an old fart
Being a New-comer, I am always seeking online for articles that could assist me. Many thanks! %KW% Elizabeth http://adw7.ru/user/izlxybtidbt/

Marc - There once was a most thankful Russian
Whose life was once saved by a Prussian
But along came a Spaniard
In a style most maññered
And Olé! El Ruso was blushin'.
Sir Cornelis Maartenszoon Tromp
Was the first to cross Zuiderzee Swamp
But his dugout canoe
Sprang a leak, maybe two
But he got there and arrived in some pomp. well, with a name like that....
I've discovered a whizzo new game
I just need to think up a name
There's only one rule:
You must play like a fool,
And never make two moves the same.
I suggest that we start with this line,
"There was an old man of Loch Fyne"
And then for the second,
A rhyme which is reckoned
Would be absolutely divine!
The Doctor's re-written the past
And Who else but he could recast
But the Great Originator
Or the grim terminator
(We're desperate to make this series last)
There once was a cool desperado
Who claimed t'have written The Mikado
On the opening night [Rosie] I'd have put the "'t" next to Mikado
He just started to fight
With a G & S afficionado
(Kim) I had no particular reason to imply boreality. Isn't this sound really just a glottal stop attached t'' previous word? You can't really alter title o'' work. There ought to be a symbol for it.
Christmas is upon us
'Oh no it's not!' we shout Oh no it's not.
oh poop. I've glow-wormed rather than limericked. Ignore my post.
"'Tis! 'tis!" responds the chorus It was glow-wormed from the start

Software - Now Christmas is soon upon us
Penelope - 'Oh no it is not!' what's the fuss
Raak - "'Tis! 'tis!" all in chorus
Santa - My brains may be porous
Moniker - I refuse these five lines to discuss.

Or:
Christmas is upon us
"Oh no it's not!" we shout
"'Tis! 'tis!" responds the chorus
So that all came to nowt

There once was a Limerick class,
For the bad rhyme and rhythm dumbass
When it came to the test
They duly confessed
'Twas unlikely their scansion would pass
Inspired by the moon, as I am
To snort and to rut like a ram
On this cloudy night
I gave Boris a fright
And stole his tart filled with yam.
Hidden textNot a great line but...

Today is the day when it's done
I've dared be tattooed with a pun
This indelible mark
Is a jolly good lark
And a tribute to my only sun
Jacob the Third from Dunlevy
Drove round the block in his Chevvy
His miles-per-gallon
Hidden textBroke this small poem

Hidden textAnd now it just won't rhyme at all 8o)

Impressed Jimmy Fallon
But the rhymes that he chose were not clevvy Dunlevy? Chevy? Purlease!!! *repeats rant about poor rhyming and scansion from MCiOS*
[pen] It's enough to make one go out on a bevvy.
(Raak) I need little persuasion.
There's a man outside with a beard
And a cap with three bobbles so weird
He says he's from Spain
And arrived on the train
And he'll stay till the weather has cleared.
[pen]
Hidden text"But were poor 'cos the car was so heavy" was ringing in my ears when I wrote the American talk-show host into the rhyme.

My brother is sporting a hat
In which he just looks a twat (Phil) I'm sure he's not.
Hidden textHe's not, but he does look one in the hat. I saw a photo on facebook this morning, and that was precisely the 2nd line I had in mind
With his knob-ended cane
And arched eyebrow so vain
He looks smart but is still the same brat.
My cuckoo clock seem to be hatching
A plot for a plague that's so catching
The mould in its thatch
Is almost a match
For the lepidote nose you've been scratching.
[Chalky] Thank you for the new word I have learned today.
The lexicographical treasures
Onomatopoetical pleasures
Neological joys
Of semantical toys
To be found in thrasonical measures.
Let us dabble and stolch in the wood
And not do the things that we should
Let us shout, run and laugh
With the riff and the raff
Rob the poor - let's get rich, understood...?
I wonder who's kissing her now?
Probably death - poor cow.
And also who's teaching her how
To make our rhyme scheme more lowbrow
There once was a withered old rose
Whose weak mind was set writing prose
And the non-scanning lines
Gave no points only fines
And the reason for this no one knows…

I still wonder but will never know
Just where did my other sock go?
It's gone - it's a myst'ry
That stocking is hist'ry oblig.
I'll wear odd'uns - d'yer think it'll show?
There's just enough time left I think
'Fore the cosmic heat-death, for a drink
A cocktail perhaps?
Or a sherry? Or schnapps?
Or maybe champagne that is pink?
"I am not one of those" - said miss Lola
"Who drinks all that much Coca-Cola"
"I much prefer Sprite"
she said, "though I might
give a miss to that batch marked 'Ebola'"
Hidden textClapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapclap

(Projoy) Too late; it's gone viral.
What Stevie said. I spent half an hour last night trying to thing of a 5th line. Perfect!
I really must try having sex
With a new miss - I don't miss my ex
Come and take me tonight?
While my bloke's out of sight?
Sorry, I'm rat-arsed on Becks.
The inmate in cell number six
Has some rather strange facial tics
His lack of straight face
Ensures him a place
With many famed physical comics.
Really?
I play bass guitar in a band
And I'm using both left and right hand
Which one does what
Is not easy to spot
I'm the fastest jazzman in the land!

[Phil] I also play bass in a band.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RvkZSm68JLE&feature=youtu.be
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eOLmX3PBHS0
[Kim] I don't. I don't even play bass, but I do have a valid poetic licence :-)
One day I was drunk and I sang
But the words got mixed up with slang
I cursed and I swore
And I said, "Ruddigore!"
And what is much worse, cried "Fertang!!!!!"
Three dogs, a goat, and a bird
In a curry; we are not inured
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."
To the greenhouse I summoned the cook
"Over there!" I exclaimed. "Take a look!"
"The tomatoes have rust!"
"The sprouts turned to dust!"
He's from Yorkshire, so said "What the fook?"
While I stood in the Post Office queue
And I hoped for position two
But the fellow in front ...careful...
With a snort and a grunt
Said: "I'm stuck. Who the hell spilled that glue!"
The cyan-ACrylate glue sealed his lips
On the table he had fish and chips
But unable to eat Hello Cook
His cod-and-spud treat
He studied the lunar eclipse
It's the year of the Monkey, beware...
That you dress with attention and care
And stop making faces
When you tie your shoelaces
God! You're not doing that with your hair????
In accordance with Standard 14
You must paint your front door in sludge green
Lined out in puce
Or else we'll reduce
The money for being Europeen
The good folk of Chorlton-cum Hardy
Were known for their love of bacardi
When applied to the skin
It was better than gin
And creme CeraVe - it's too lardy
The Burghers of Port du Calais
Have been whooping it up at the Palais
Now the jungle is flat
They think that is that
But more migrants will be there next day.
Last summer I swam 'cross the Channel
Wrapped in the finest of flannel
My expensive pyjamas
With their imprint of lamas
Were hidden behind a pannel.
There once was a fellow named Clark
Who was quite afraid of the dark
So he switched on the light
And got a great fright
As he found himself next to a shark.
It's due time that you upgrade your app
Or else you may fumble your snap
The latest UI
Helps you shoot on the fly
But the editing suite is pure crap
What time does the ferry depart?
The minute that I've found my chart
And topped up with diesel
And fed my pet weasel
But this is Condor and we're missing a part
The Andean Condor's huge wingspan
ex-ceeds the width of my fry-ingpan
And so to sauté it
I bent it to fit
Which spoilt its vocal range, or sing span. Dreadful.
The first day of Spring has just sprung
And I feel like a stallion I'm hung
I'll be frisky for sure
And with all my allure
I'll hide what Spring has just sprung.
Hidden textHey, Lear repeated words in his limericks

There once was a fella named Lear
Who said that he felt a bit queer
When asked what was wrong
He burst into song
And demanded I bring him a beer.
I've a problem with one of my glands
My prostate's come off in my hands
Just squirt it with glue
Then fixate with a screw
Then to hold it in place - rubber bands
There's a stock room of spare body parts
For my practice of ghoulish black arts
In the box labelled "Noses"
Nothing's smelling of roses
And some carrots, Jack Frost's private parts.
The question is free I've been told
But the answer will cost all your gold
Not "The Meaning of Life?"
"How To Murder Your Wife"?
No, it's down the river you're sold
"We are sinking, please finish your soup,"
"Use the loo - we mustn't leave poop."
And then take your turn
As the ship starts to burn
To play "Nearer, my God" on a loop.
It has eight legs! It's there on the floor!
How'd that Octopus get in the door?
It's fresh from the sea
And it's smarter than me
And my God it looks just like Al Gore!
In the land that we now call Iraq
They're proposing to place a blue plaq
On a house in Baghdad
A home for jihad
Where there once lived a young man called Raak
Can you eat up the rest of this flour?
It won't last much more than an hour
We must not let it rise
Or else its sheer size
Will swallow up Shipston-on-Stour
'Tis the 400th year of dear Willy
The bard not the whale, silly billy
After four hundred years
His oeuvre appears
So much better than Milli Vanilli
's
It's May and the sap is a-rising
The new cider looks most appetising
So come all ye drunkards
Lift up your tankards
(Whose contents don't bear analysing)
Through the blossom and meadows I dance
Gazelle-like I pirouette and prance go for it, pen
But, hid by this sedge,
Is my five fruit and veg!
And all of them produits de France
Well, that was an odd one. I hadn't expected that.
The world of Gerard, Count of Nice
Was described in this nice press release:
A Master of Biscuits
Despiser of Triscuits
In quantities from "un" to "six". Sorry [pen], let continental-themed weirdness abound. Nevertheless a stylish finish from [Pablo]
[Meadow Dancing pen] I expected at least one person to post about not wearing any pants. I was going to on line two but thought it would be a better punch line for line five.
In the city of Aix-la-Chappelle
Danced Penelope, like a gazelle
Is that Stevie - both are nude!
In his hand - gee that's rude!
I just hope that they don't kiss and tell
While I was tending my garden
I received from the Queen a full pardon
Writing long lines that don't scan at all
Sent the Sovereign right up the wall
Causing her stance on such infractions to harden.
An infinite number of monkeys
Assisted by five EU flunkies
Rough-drafted a treaty
UK rules for graffiti
To reserve it for registered junkies.
To work out the square root of pi
Please first the last π-digit quantify
Then by taking the log
And a sly sip of grog
You'll be fine - just bluff your way by.
It's one and a bit!
When time, space, and knowledge combine
With superior shape, form and line,
One ought to be dazzled
Or even brain-frazzled
By the stuff that's produced - it's all mine!
When you think you are ready you're not
And the things that you got, you ain't got
So live while you live
'Cos life is a swizz
What you've not got can fester and rot.
Could this chicken be up to fowl play?
From my vantage point, hard to say
It does seem inclined
To sneak up behind
'Til a cock crows and gives it away
It wasn't a fowl 'cos he dived
A move, as in football, contrived
With a kingfisher's grace
To fall flat on one's face
And a red card from the ref is survived
Monday morning - the struggle goes on
To house-train my iguanodon
I'll be hailed as a wizard
Of incontinent lizard
Where a nose-peg's a sine qua non.
I've managed to train up a gazelle
To fart without making a smell!
This flatulent trick
Involves mud and a brick
An ending occurred, but I already had a go -
Hidden text- And it will win me the Ig Nobel!
And a diet of silica gel. (Bis) V. gentlemanly
As I looked out me window last night
I could not but notice a slight
Nasty nip in the air
Though the weather was fair
Fukushima was within sight.
When you're leaving Japan please make sure
That your thoughts and your deeds have been pure.
For the Shinto religion
Protects even a pigeon
From charges of being "manure"
I'm wearing a lightning conductor
Made of copper as per my instructor Stormy in Clogland, pen?
's advice. He was right!
Look what happened last night -
Prematurely discharged when I...engaged her in consensual acts of an intimate nature.
One red carrot I've offered my horse
It bit off my fingers, of course
But aren't horses veggie?
But they can be quite edgy
As my A&E can endorse!
Oh woe is me, I am undone
I thought it was comic and fun
But alas and alack
Everything has turned black
Can we undo the referendum?
So, what is he going to do now?
While waiting to take his last bow?
Will he come 'round again?
Or collapse in great pain?
Or renege on "resign is my vow!"
I'll resign again and again and again
The meaning of this is quite plain
What I've wrought is at hand
I am unfit to stand
If you voted for me then you're insane.
However, I may just bounce back
On my elastic hypocrisy track
As plan B starts fail
My brave face turn pale
I surprise the whole world with my quack.
Let's clear out the old, bring in new
And toss out the false, bring in true
Give us hope, peace and love
And harmony, aw'right bruv?
I've told you 'bout sniffing that glue!

Mercy Killing invoked.
Software - Let us clear out the old, bring in new
Stevie - And toss out the false, bring in true
Marc - Give us hope, peace and love
Rosebud - Olive branches - white dove
Peacemaker - And one day our dreams will come through.

What we need is a quick coup de gr?ce
Oh woe, it doesn't take extended character sets...
What we need is a quick coup de grace
And, should such a thing come to pass,
Don't say "Coo de Grah"
Lest you prompt a fnarr
Then we kill you with pure poison gas...
When you leave will you please close the door
Or the whole house will smell of your spoor
"daw ... spaw ... spaw ... daw..."
Your best friends haven't told you
That fungus on you grew
The day you came back from The War
Men of Harlech! The Zulus are risin'
Dead are heap'd with dying! (How surprising)
On to Bulawayo!

I'm declaring this one a bad steer on account of poor scansion and attempted forcing of people to type something about Ketshwayo instead of opening up vistas of wit. My fault not entirely
Down the church hall they're all on parade
To acclaim killer Stevie's blockade.
Harlech's W.I.
Hidden text[Stevie] what did you have in mind when mixin' races like that? That Zulu chief was far from my mind, it was more a challenge to see what could be found on the Bulawayo road, summat like: Men of Harlech, the Zulus are risin'//Dead are multiplying (How surprising)//On to Bulawayo!//Where the darkies we'll K.O.//Thus apartheid loomed on the horizon.
Went on an excursion to Skye
They sailed o'er the sea
For a nice cup of tea ...normal service etc
With a Talisker dram - oh aye-aye!
There was a young man from Prestatyn
Who saw a knob and pressed that in
A twenty-ton weight
Was released and fell straight
on his head - the result was to flatten
Way back in my Ministry days
In charge of Hampton Court Maze
I engaged Alan Turing
Thus firmly ensuring
That we're leaving the Maze walking sideways. (Alan didn't walk straight, did he...?)
Back then, I commanded the troops I think I'm heading for trouble with this one.
By Jove, I'd them jumping through hoops!
English as she's spoke
With a fnoot sull of coke
S'like impossible hooptroop de loops

How about:
Back then, I commanded the troops I think I'm heading for trouble with this one.
By Jove, had 'em jumping through hoops!
When out on parade
Primed on neat lucozade
They lined up in sugary groups
My afro is fulsome and pert!
Likewise my black rubber skirt Today I am a hovercraft
I'm dressed up so nice
My chin dabbed with Old Spice
You must think me a terrible flirt!
My tonsure requires some repair
It's become overgrown, here and there
In the cloister, it's said
I look like Judge Dredd
A parable I think is unfair.
Do you mind if I ask you to shave?
Yes, I do; I'm going to a rave
It's not OTT
To grow a goatee
In the shape of a stone architrave
Why aye man, Irn Bru's just the thing
At a "Spinners" reunion in Tring
It puts hairs on your chest
Which women detest
So go gay, and let MEN pull your ring. It's OK, I already picked up my coat
The gas-man is mending a leak
Hidden text(Pj) You are disgraceful person:-)
And he uses the latest technique
Of taking a match
To set fire to the thatch
- next thing, there's a blood-curdling shriek.
No smoking! No pipes! No Cigars!
Says the sign in the passenger cars
When I need a good puff
I call the guard's bluff
It went wrong. I was put behind bars!
Now that Hamish has finished his tea
He'll meet Dougal, just wait and see...
And, inspecting his flask
Its contents? - don't ask
(...it's a mixture of Bourbon and pee.) Coat please...
Enough of the Scots! Let's talk Swede!
It's a thing all my vegetables need!
My turnips want more
It's a bit of a bore
But it helps when they start to set seed.
There was a young lady from Bude trad
Allergic to all sorts of food
Nuts, gluten, and soy
She could never enjoy
Their effect on her bowels was just rude
There was a young man out of Rhyll Redressing the balance a taff tad.
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
For utter frustration
With a martini, stirred, on the rocks.
Mister Bond with a license to kill
Took position on top of Box Hill
His Sig Sauer set ready
His aiming arm steady
He knows there is no better thrill.
When it gales I'll mither and gall mis-using word types wild
The mizzle will bother and fall
While rainth and sleetch fail
It's time for the shail!
And the frog shall obscure parts of Gaul.
This coffee I made tastes like paint
And just a slight trace of boar taint
I should have used water
'Cos it clogs my aorta
Can I sit down? I feel faint
This paint I've just mixèd tastes sour
I hope it won't spoil happy hour
Lemon juice is the base
With TiO2 paste
With my tins of paint I make art
With my jars of jam I make a tart
For my name's Jackson Pollock
And with my third bollock
I'll redirect every fart.
Here's a few of my favourite things
Suckers and contracts with strings It's the Trump in me coming out
This ball of blue wool
This pint glass that's full
And a nice poker hand with five Kings.
Have you heard the sensational news
There's a tax to be placed upon pews!
A surcharge on the kneelers
No discount for dealers
So whatever you do, you will lose
I hear that they plan to tax farts In honour of the government of my home nation, who several decades back proposed a fart tax on cows because of their methane emissions. Carn the Kiwis!
And use it to promote the arts
We'll be arty as hell
Despite the foul smell oblig.
Emanating from our nether parts.
My kiwi is acting all strange
Could be myxomatosis or mange
I don't think it's rickets
Or harassment by prickets
More likely it's sex interchange.
I've been thinking of you ever since
You showed me those black and white prints
Nostalgic it was
To remember, because
They're before all those crap pastel tints
I remember that back in the day
The catchphrase that people would say
Was "splash it all over!"
"Have a roll in the clover!"
Or "Go ahead, punk, make my day."
Nice one all. Simons Mith wins the internet.
I spoke to the fellow in charge
About hiring a quinquireme barge
He told me his boat
Would just about float
And the slaves came without turbocharge.
When you're rowing make sure you've got oars
Or you'll struggle to get to new shores
To the oars, add a boat
One with rowlocks, please note
And some friends who can help - eights or fours
While trying to seduce Doris Day
You were punched by Rock Hudson, you say?
It was all in good fun
I was dressed as a nun
And everyone knows that he's gay
At a hog roast I met Steve McQueen
Where I told him his hog looked piss green
So he took me aside
Said: "You'd better go hide,"
"Or I'll rip out and swallow your spleen."
Hidden textI guess no-one wanted to play into the double meaning of "hog roast"

While watching the Titanic sink
I thought, "What I need's a stiff drink."
So leave out the ice
And don't mind the price
Singing "Nearer, My God, to Thee", I think.
Raise your voice let us all sing along
As the world goes to hell, sing this song:
"Toodle-oo, toodle-ay",
"Zippa-do-dah, de-ay"
But it won't stop things going wrong
If you sing "Rule Britannia" off-key
You'll upset the world order, you see
So you'd better shut up
And just drink a cup
Of thick, brown, lukewarm NAAFI tea
Gadzooks! Odds bods! Lack-a-day!
I was just now outbid on ebay!
The thing that I want
Pour ma fille débutante
Was sniped, but that's fine - I can't pay.
I talk to the trees, but in vain
I get blanked (is that planked?), in the main
Though one answer I've got
Is that they all talk rot
Ooh! Must run! It's the Whitecoats again!
The voice in my head said last night
"You ain't Einstein, now would I be right?"
For all of the thinkin'
And smokin' and drinkin'
Deceive me to think that I'm bright.
P, S, Ks, R, M - splendid.
Whenever there's lightning about
Your golf club do not wave about
For Zeus hates the game
And you'll be to blame
When you've been reduced to grout.
When it's cold up at 'mill, then it's time
To drink a large lager and lime
In the Rover's Return Oblig.
(Some folk never learn)
To enjoy and live life - it's springtime!
From "Pea and honey...", a quatrain that was rejected owing to its limerick-nature.
My ancient Marina still goes
Like an elephant in its last throes
Hidden textBismarck masquerading as Raak, for convenience
With motion unsteady
I still get it ready
With or without any clothes...
We will sail with the tide, get aboard
Bring your pirate hat, rum, and your sword
Practice "Gyarr!" and "Landlubberrr!"
You scurvy deck-scrubber,
Till your accent is slightly less flawed
The echo in here is quite odd
I said "Who's there?" and got the reply "God."
My hearing aid batt'ry
Straight from the fact'ry
I am sure was an ungodly fraud.
In the the Liverpool Echo today
"Ken Dodd Has Been Charged With Affray"
The Diddy Men claim
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
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