arrow_circle_left arrow_circle_up arrow_circle_right
The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
help
And so it begins....
arrow_circle_up
But my oven is hot
And I have a large pot
In its coop which is climate-controlled
I entreat you to blanket your pigs
And install them in luxury digs
With sh*t on the floor
,The walls and what's more
When building them, do not use twigs Or straw, for that matter
I've always thought that you're the GOAT
Which is why I gave you my vote
But consideration
Of this once great nation
Makes further approval remote.
A new variant's sweeping the land
And threatens to get out of hand
It's name is called "Psi"
And we heave a great sigh
As we bury our heads in the sand
Lost and adrift in the fog
With a bloody great Alsatian dog
Who pines for Alsace
And the St Bernard's Pass
Round its neck a barrel of grog
Thank God, now out in the sun
At last we can have carefree fun
In my speedo and flippers
Scoffing ice cream and kippers
Just a mile off the M181
If you just would please let me explain
Why my answer appears so inane
I was preoccupied
With my bit on the side
And the bulge in your femoral vein
The good folk of Dunstable, Beds.
Are known for their parties in sheds
With tinnies galore
The tongue-and-groove floor
Bears witness to unstable heads.
The bad folk of Stevenage, Herts.,
Do wear the most hideous shirts
And oh god! the shorts
Don't ask me my thoughts!
'Bout the incessant catcalls and flirts.
Herts./hurts, Herts./harts, I dunno...
And now renounce all Satan's works
Those are sins, not lovable quirks!
But his voice so persuasive
But so, so evasive
Is hypnotic for like-minded jerks
If you're lucky and win a cash prize
After many disheartening tries
Be modest; don't bellow
And be a good fellow
Just pass me my Big Mac and fries.
The Czar's wife is called the Czardine
I'm told she is rather unclean
They bathe her in oil
And scrape off the soil
And then toast her - with "God save the Queen"!
While dancing alone in the street
- Just me and my pair of left feet
Approached by the cops
I pulled out all the stops
With a fandango most indiscreet
When I tried to foxtrot like heck
I landed, tits up, on the deck
No Strictly for me
Nor boogie-woogee
Unless Darcey massages my neck *sighs dreamily*
Whilst attempting to dance the Palais Glide
My dance partner took me aside
And issued a threat
(Turns out she’d made a bet)
That the last man to cross her had died
While waltzing one day with my wife
I considered the course of my life
Strictly, is dancing
Lifestyle enhancing
Or a straight invitation to strife?
The lad who delivers my paper
Has become an extravagant vaper
His malevolent fumes
From the stuff he consumes
Sparked fire in a local skyscraper
If you find you can't cope in this heat Topical, eh?
Give up. Lie down. Press "Delete"
Or leap into the shower
And stay there an hour
Or tie blocks of ice to your feet
A thunderclap sounds overhead
"Cripes!" I scream. "There goes the shed!"
The tornado went past
Well, that was a blast
I'm either in Kansas, or dead.
Now these are a sweet pair of shoes
They go nicely with these drainpipe trews
And what of my quiff?
It looks a bit stiff
But the style is to die for (T. Hughes.)
(Bis) Your endorsement is greatly appreciated. I used to have one, a small amount of hair in the middle that hangs down to about eye level but found it a bit annoying and of course hopelessly dated. There seems to be some confusion in online dictionaries between "quiff" and "quim". The latter, of course, is Something Completely Different.
Glad you liked the reference, it took a bit of debate before publishing it.
My tank top is simply divine Continuing the fashion kick
As I strut the catwalk, and shine
My hot pink top hat
Match my Birkenstocks that
I bought on a whim whilst online
[Mt T. Hughes] As an aside, the most amusing piece of library-book defacing I ever saw was in a book about metaphors, oxymorons, pleonasms and other figures of speech - before t'internet, obvs, probably in about 1992. I was reading about writing as I was trying to make my career in it. The book gave this example of a witty variation of a metaphor: 'My wife has a whim of steel' and someone had written underneath it 'My wife has a quim of ice'.
Oh where would I be without braces?
To wear them, I've found, takes you places
Where big guts abound (pen) Absolutely ace filth. ROFLMAO. Thank you so much
And everyone's round
There's trouble when tying up laces
I've just got a new pair of Docs
I'm now skint; quite on the rocks
So the rest of me's nude
Hope you're not a prude
Besides, I am wearing socks.
I lumber around in plus fours
With varnish on all of my claws
The attention I'm getting
Is merely abetting
My love of well-mixed metaphors
A trilby is quite the 'in' thing
When out with The Edge, Rod and Sting
My Dad had one - cool!
But he looked such a fool
In his 1952 bling.

Scrub that - couldn't resist it.

But Harry Styles' crowd
Oops. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.
Dress awfully loud
So it's harder to hear Harry sing Ironically
I'm liking the cut of your jib
Please sing that, and do add some vib
For synaesthesia
Induces amnesia
And somehow sounds a bit glib
arrow_circle_down
Want to play? Online Crescenteering lives on at Discord