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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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As I go through the day
I hope and I pray
For an overall drop in inanity
I find talk of weather profound [Simons] Lovely last lines for the previous two...
Deep in a flood, I'll be bound
This dire cyclonicity
And damp synchronicity
Confuses my poor little hound.
If you want to bamboozle a dog
Just dress him like Jacob Rees Mogg
In top had and tails
With manicured nails
And not keep going to the bog.
When Corona was just a drink
And the world was not yet on the brink
We thought it a lark
To have fun in the dark
Social distance at zero (*wink wink*)
In a cupboard, while playing "Sardines"
I wished I'd not eaten baked beans Nice pay-off, CdM
My flatulence there
Was too much to bear
And I melted a hole in my jeans
There's a trick to op'ning canned beer
For one thing, wear the right gear
Take dagger and cloak
Give it a good poke
And watch it spray far and near
In these times of foreboding and gloom
I'm simply not leaving my room
So if you want to cheer me
Without standing near me
Facetime me so I can zoom
I've just heard that Boris is sick
I hope his recovery's quick
To founder and fail
But keep out of jail
Is a very Pfeffelian trick
Once was, that all roads led to Rome
But now, we must all stay at home
And not wipe our arses
Through government farces
So please don't be tempted to roam
The peak of infection is past
And though working from home is a blast
Does nobody know
Just where I might go
Sorry, those days are past.
It's got to be time for a brew
But please don't let it stew
When infusing the leaves
I'll tell you what peeves
Not knowing where each of them grew
Hidden textSocial Distancing provides opportunity for such ponderings
Home alone. I've searched - there's no other
Those bed socks belong to my mother
And the knocks in the walls
And the plaster that falls
On me is such a bother
Relaxing the rules just a little
A lot wouldn't do, but a bit'll
Think it's all over
And visit their lover Shakespearian Rules declared
What'll then hit the fan? Oh, the shit'll.
Thanks for the excellent development of an admittedly difficult start!
Outside there's a godawful smell
In my own personal circle of Hell
I've searched high and low
I reck'n it's the po
But my nose is so clogged I can't tell
I've gathering the wood and the wool
Sounds like a load of old bull
In fact, a young cow
In the here'n'now
Says I'm too high to be cool.
Do nothing, until there's a Plan
Don't plan, until there's a Man
No Man? Get a monkey
Then all will be hunky-
Dory, like Dominic Cummings's scam
I'm really fed right up to here
I'll do something reckless, I fear
I'll put on my socks! [Daring enough for ya, ya pussies? I'm so hardcore I may even put them on the wrong feet.]
Cue-up "Cleveland Rocks!"     The Ian Hunter original
Fu*k it, I'll just have a beer
My socks are marked left and right
This is so I can find them at night
The marks are in Braille
They pong, so exhale
But this cannot be mine - far too tight
I'm back from a very long trip
To Woking's municipal tip
Where I hunted in vain
For Boris's brain
In the vain hope he might get a grip
I feel like an animal theme for a bit. Can we have some animals?

There is much to be said of the Moth

But I'd much rather speak of the Sloth     
Hidden textHi, Jack!
Or a simple wombat
Or a Sumatran Rat
Or the Wampa ice creature from Hoth
I can't see the point of a bunny
They're 'hoppy' and I prefer 'runny'
But hoppy beer's great
So here's Bunny's fate
Stewed in Guinness, with onions, and honey.
The purpose of hedgehogs is clear [Simons] We can have a catalogue of limericks justifying British fauna if you want
They have excellent taste in good beer
They just lap it up
From a saucer or cup
Curl up and just disappear
The haggis, a curious beast
Turns dinner into a feast
with offal and bran
Yourrr auld Scottish gran
Will make it all rise with some yeast
You can see by the cut of his jib
That he clearly will not ad lib
Those "Fnarrs"! and those "Errrs"
"In the script!" he avers
"To say otherwise is a fib"
You can tell by the look in her eye
That the lady is ever so shy
She's sweet and demure
But her mind is manure the light linen duster coat, ta
You would think she was born in a sty.
You could say she was destined to fly
(Even though, manifestly, you lie)
She seems to have wings
And other nice things
But too great a liking for pie (Sigh) It's like the sad tale of Mavis the Fairy all over again.
(Only with pie rather than cake.)
If cake is your bag, just look here
It is gluten-free, have no fear
And there's zero lactose
Sugar free, I 'spose Tricky rhyme, there
And a glass of no-alcohol beer.
My hair grows ever longer
Surely a glow worm?
My hair grows ever longer
But falls out just as fast
I'll beat upon the conga
Until I breathe my last.
(Superman) 'Kinell. It is, isn't it.
My hair seems to grow ever longer
But my body just doesn't get stronger
So, Sampson I'm not
And Delilah is rot
Can it get any wronger?
I like to eat spinach with jam  
Hidden textNot really
Far better than Marmite with spam
Hidden textUrk!
But jellied eel mousse
Hidden textGetting grosser here . . . )
Just makes the bowel loose
Hidden textSo they say
I'm a slave to my guts, that I am.
But I love strawberry jam with my cheese
'Tis a consumation sure to please
But not ev'rybody
is Passamaquoddy
Who eat it while shooting the breeze.
I shot at the breeze and I missed
And the breeze is now royally pissed
"I'll blow your house down"
It said, with a frown
Til I asked it to kindly desist
My arrow is caught in a tree
And my grapeshot has not made it free
My petard is hoist
My powder is moist
And my peashooter - it lacks a pea.
*applause*
That should be exhibited immediately in the showcase game.
The thunder is getting quite near
I'd better finish off my beer
For this heat and this weather
Ruffle many a feather
With a large bolt of lightning, I fear
Hat off. Another winner
Ye Gods! What a bang! That was close!
It made me yell, "Great Caesar's Ghost!"
But try not to fret
It's not over yet
You've still got to butter the toast
The smell of hot crumpet with butter
Will cause a curmudgeon to mutter
"How gruntled I feel!" Resisting the temptation to put "gruntled" at the end of the line.
"This is not quite a meal"
But the prospect still makes my heart flutter
Cream cheese on a bagel is better
Though I much prefer to use feta
While some like ricotta
I think that you oughta
Feed that lot to the nearest red setter (The weirdest dog breed I've ever come across.)
A strange dog, you see, is the Puli
Think Dougal (though not so unruly)
And the magical thing
Is one gets them to sing
By kicking them in the left goolie.
Demonstration event at Crufts
A sudden change in the weather
Can motivate me to wear leather True
Then, astride my Hog
I ride into the fog
Adorned with a large ostrich feather
When it rains down bricks and mortar
There's one thing that you oughta
Never ever do (KagShu) Earthquake, tornado?
Lock yourself in the loo Let's get this moving.
And pointlessly call for a porter
Immunity, so I have heard,
Is a highly politicised word
Especially for Trump
An idiot chump (Rosie) Probably tornadoes in Hurricane Laura
Whose IQ was somehow deferred
If your trombone is blocked up with crud (KagShu) Mmm, nasty. Hope the bits missed you.
The best thing is to fill it with mud
Apply moderate heat
Till the tone becomes sweet
Then clear it all out with a thud
If you like reading adventure novels
Or Dickensian books set in hovels
Then I've got just the thing:
(It's written by Sting)
As for his fans he grovels
Hey! Here's some terrific advice
If your clock is infested with mice
Wait until it strikes one
They'll have no more fun
The tone, their brains will splice
Hidden textH/T Pinky and the Brain
Rosie - was already evacuated for Laura and saw my city basically damaged by it when I first wrote that and n ow Delta has hit my city, too. I was still evacuated, so I'm safe
I've heard there's a brand new vaccine
To protect us from Covid-19 I wish
But there is a small catch
You'll lose all your thatch
And your privates will glow lurid green. oblig.
Eating chicken soup as a cure
Is common in Jewish culture
But the Catholics swear
By the head of a bear
And its testicles just to be sure
I'm determined to start a fresh rhyme
Though a challenging task for a mime
He can't say a thing
Though his limbs he may swing
For to learn ASL takes some time.
As he ran like the wind to the border  
Hidden textNo idea what this is about.
Before Brexit to place his last order
He wished that he had
Stayed in Ahmedabad
With his wife, (where he couldn't afford 'er)
As I sailed in my boat on the briny
My toddlers got seasick and whiny
So I sent them aloft
To work on a croft
They didn't do much; they're too tiny
Do you really think it is OK  
Hidden textAs for the penultimate one, I _still_ don't know what it was about.
To start a new lim'rick this way?
Choose one: YES or NO
And don't vacillate so
For this, dear friends, is the way.
On this day, of all days, it is clear
That your vest is still showing, my dear
I did say “Don’t inflate it!”
But anticipated
Obedience - now should I try fear?
In a dinghy I rowed out one day
To the mouth of the silvery Tay
Then I fell overboard
And cried: "Save me, Lord"
Though he never responds when I pray
YMMV
I'm offering up this kind thought-
If you do what you know that you ought
Then if someone sees
You stuffing golf tees Unfinished thought alert
Surely, you will be caught.
I'd like to say 'well done' to Pfizer Nothing if not topical
If it's true let's all have a spritzer
At -80 degrees Cee      
Hidden texter ... the name is pronounced Pf-EYE-zer, innit?
It's obvious to me
It will be applied by Thagomizer
Mercy killing
A vaccine? Oh my! Is it true?
Should we cheer? Shout Hurrah and Woohoo?
But suppose it's a dud?
And does us no gud invoking poetic licence
There'll be quite a hullabaloo.
Keep that needle away from my arm!
In my bum, though, it works like a charm
I've been waiting for weeks
To whip off me breeks
Though it causes the wife some alarm
Beware - do not try this at home
Especially not on your own
Suppose it explodes
And fuses your nodes Shades of Rambling Syd Rumpo there.
You'll be blown from here half way to Nome.
Nome, and its green green green grass
Is built on cooled volcanic glass
They say that at night
Its emerald light
Looks like oxidized brass
Ring the bells! Sound a gong! Hoist the flag!
Says the front page of my Sunday rag
Well, get The Observer
Which proclaims with great fervor
"How to split up from your lifetime bag."
While shepherds were watching their flocks
Of chickens and geese and some cocks
They whiled away the time
By eating a lime
And chasing off all chicken hawks.
Me ‘n my mates, we’re all kings from back east
We're the Basildon Bad Boys, now mainly deceased
From beyond the grave
We'll still have a rave
with 'Unleashed From The East' - Judas Priest
(real album - honest guv')
While slamming tequila on ice
I blacked out at least once or twice
Hit me 'ead on the floor
Lost a fight with a door
And got dragged off to jail by the Vice.
In praise of the old Pearly Queen
I painted my private parts green
The public bits red
Then I shaved my head
And stripped off so to be seen
I went out with a real little raver
Who moonlighted, days, as a paver
His favourite dance
Had a one in four chance
Of not making him one to savour
The chord that was lost has been found
And has a most beautiful sound
It's a mixture of twang,
And blip-bloop and ktang
Like George Formby falling t'' ground. 'Owja do glo''al stops?
While cleaning windows what did I see?
A gentleman who looked like George Formby!
He was missing his uke,
And he gave me a look That's considerably less revolting than my first idea for the line
And a rather refined cup of tea
Whenever I hear Van the Man
Or I see the Pres with the "tan"
My hackles are raised
And I go off half-crazed
When Her Majesty does the can-can
You know, I miss Morecambe and Wise
As I guzzle a dozen mince pies
Abbott and Costello
And some other fellow
All gone to that Club in the skies
Pine needles all over the floor
A dried-up, dead wreath on the door
The cold light of day dawns
Christmas over, so yawns
Next year we'll be back for some more
Zut alors, wat is 'appening 'ere?
Someone 'as put cheese in my beer
And made it go flat
I shall keel 'eem, zis rat
With my pistole-couteau I 'ave 'ere.
Mein Herr - du hast eaten my pie!
Undt now, English pigdog, you die!
Mein Eisbein ist heilig!
Tough luck - time ist veilig
Even executions go awry
Ahoy! Me hearties! Avast!
Virus protection at last!
Just roll up your sleeve
One jab, and then we've
Hidden textSoftware - nice
Begun sending this plague to the past.
When counting in French, one can say
Un, deux, trois - m'ouveré
Alternatively
Count in Swahili
Hidden textSomeone has to give this a go
Or simply use English/anglais
One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight - splendid idea Dujon!
I count t'let my anger abate
While I'll count in German
Which won't be a sermon
And Europeans I'll try to placate Another Brexshit bonus
So now it's the War of Vaccine
With skirmishes covert and mean
But wait! Who is wrong?
The few or the throng?
The death toll remains to be seen. mercy killing - see what I did there?
Well, I'm free of the COVID is seems
When I finish applying these creams
In covert ceremonies
I'll plaster my knees
In ointment, to cover my screams
In order to seem more appealing
I serve only the finest Darjeeling
In the very best bone china
Made by someone named Dinah
It gives everyone such a nice feeling
[C,R,R,KS,S] Couldn't be more English

In lockdown, I've done some repairs
But it's still rather dodgy upstairs
For instance, the ceiling
Is still only a feeling
And the walls and the floor are "not theres".
While strolling through Lincoln's Inn Fields
I spotted a skip full of shields
That the barristers dump
At the acquittal of Trump oblig.
It's a sign of the power that he wields Moving swiftly on...
We don't have to fear Joseph Biden
Any more than Franz Joseph Haydn
He's as good as his word
When he gives Trump the bird
As into the sunset he's ridin'.
Seems Richard did not have a hump
Nor Jasmine an extra chest bump
You just can’t believe
Each bodily heave
And each clown is in private a glump.
Hidden textWho is this Jasmine the formerly triple-breasted?
While waiting for my second jab
I chanced upon Dominic Raab
I said, "What ho, Dom!"
with my usual aplomb
And asked him to hail me a cab.
Hidden text[Raak], If I RECALL correctly, the name is actually Mary. Seriously, does she have three boobs? (Extra credit if you can tell me the source of my caption) Did my link not work? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EiylTqSAiaM
(KagShu) A 50% excess is unusual but not unique. Here's Monty Python from about 1969.
The chances of being immune
Are as slim as a snowflake in June
So before you get tested
Don't get arrested
Hidden text[Rosie: fun, but "Seriously, doe sshe have three boobs?" is from Legally Blo>nde: The Musical
That could ruin your whole afternoon
There's no sense in holding it back
Even though you may get the sack
Let them know what you think
That their policies stink Almost oblig.
And they should all be put on the rack. at a stretch
When working a day of CS
Hidden textThat's cee ess, or customer service.
Be sure to use words that impress
Don't snarl "Oh get stuffed!"
When your help is rebuffed
Your frustration you must suppress
The first of the Quarantine Years
Has brought many strong men to tears
They whimper and whine
When they misplace their spine
And mentally strip all their gears
This unmanly blub'rin' must cease!
Or else I shall call the police
Who should have a hanky
Wrapped up in a blankie
And syringes dispensing some peace
If it's boating that you want to do
Then the Suez Canal is for you!
It's level throughout
If you get stuck, just shout
There'll be a delay for a minute or two (or longer, perhaps)
While going through Teddington lock
I received a most terrible shock
I saw Hughie Green's ghost
- He was moored to a post!
Awaiting opportunity's knock.
Crisps all round!
Opportunity knocks but once, so
When it does you must get up and go
And lock that darn door
Behind you, before
You go joining the business of show.
Stop all the clocks for eight days
Stay in bed and just laze
Let oppo's go by
Dynamic? Not I
I'm not one for frenetic displays
Do you think that the time is yet ripe?
For a dog at your feet and a pipe
And a scarf round your neck
And slippers, by heck
I'd say no. It's just ageist tripe.
It seems that this shirt doesn't fit
'Cos I have expanded a bit
Chip butties for tea
Scoffed REG-u-lar-LY
Also mean that my trousers have split
Barkeep! Crisps all round!
I want to try is the cake that's called Jaffa
Does it come from the city called Kaffa?
Or must I search
In the crypt of a church
Or make do with something naffer.
The Oscars are here once again
Most of them go to the men
Though some may appear
To be without peer
I'd rate most as just two out of ten Mercy killing :-/
[Arch] you might like to have a look at this idiot guide for using HTML mark-up for your moves (etiquette prefers only one line per rhyme unless you're brilliant, don't care about etiquette or are providing a long-overdue cull). I've been using this for more than 15 years - it was made my one of the players on here. Very Basic Guide to HTML for playing on Mornington Crescent sites
And I even used it to make this hyperlink too :o)
[muttleee] I think that was a good rescue.
When winning a Darwin Award
A fool of yourself is assured
As you take yourself out
(Inflict your own clout)
Your non-reproduction's ensured.
I think I may be a bee
No, you aren't, honey, b'lieve me
Your yellow-black fuzz
And high-voltage buzz I reckon she's an electricity pylon dusted in slightly scorched custard. That fits all the data so far.
Is just a fault with your HT For those old enough to remember TV with tubes
When voting in local elections
Don't be bribed with tempting confections
'Though if I'd been offered
Cake from Ms. Crawford
I'd refuse on account of infections
It's an incontrovertible fact
That whatever you do you'll get sacked
So plan well in advance
For each circumstance
And hope that you won't get hacked
Eventually I'll get down the pub
And sit down with a pint and some grub
For convivial chatter
And a steaming hot platter
But the cost? Aye, there's the rub....
Stop rubbing my platter, you swine!
And get me a glass full of wine!
I need a drink
Because I'm on the brink
Of becoming seriously anodyne.
Although it was somewhat contrived
I wrote, "Then the dragons arrived."
I shoehorned it in
Wrong game, but no sin
However, I felt quite deprived
Let's start something fresh, I feel keen
And I'm tired of my normal routine
I'm gonna dress up
And drink from the cup
Filled to the brim with Poitín
I've filled up the tank with spud peelings
For the sake of my partner's green feelings
My exhaust smells like chips
On the shortest of trips
So poo to the oil giants' dealings
That's it! I'm off to the pub
To sit down with a pint and some grub
I'll talk to my friends
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