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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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"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
Sir's cummerbund looks awfully tight
Will it go bust? It just might
I suggest a good truss
No such thing, y'great wuss
If there were, it would be quite a sight
It's time for a nice cup of tea
Please make it with loose-leafed PG
But don't let it stew
Since that ruins the brew
And makes it more likely I'll pee.
Of late, I have noticed my nose
Gets bigger, old age I suppose
It's now a huge strawb'ry
Whined Cap’n Jack Aubrey
My retort was to shout 'Thar She Blows!'
While doing the washing-up (Chalky) ROFLMAO
I dropped my favourite cup
That I wore for the test
That time England were best
And brought the Ashes back home in a cup

Rosie - While doing the washing-up (Chalky) ROFLMAO

Software - I dropped my favourite cup

Which I'd won for my skill
At the Morrisons till
For appropriate use of "Wassup?" Mercy killing
While cleaning the windows indoors
Using an old pair of drawers
I began to have fears
It would all end in tears
You know why? Well I'll tell. It's because      but I've said too much
May I bring you a non sequitur?
Fog is wet and my cat has no fur
The party is plum
Too bad you can't come
On the tour de la tour à Tours
The strange tale of old Widow Twanky
Who no longer does hanky-panky
Will tug your heartstrings
(amongst other things)
Unless you're a cynical Yankee.
While scraping the frost from my car
I heard a voice from afar
Its sweetness of tone
Which, on its own
In no way the occasion did mar.
I'm planning to swap my Lambretta
For an out-of-date Wall's Vienetta
As transport, it's crap
And perhaps a deathtrap
But costs less than a Volkswagen Jetta.
At the start of another new year
For the old one I'll not shed a tear
It's time to move forward
But first a foreword:
Never trust a Tory, y'hear? sorrynotsorry
When dealing with HMRC
Don't tell 'em you're a Tor-ee
Just pretend you forgot
To declare what you ought
And reside in St Helier, Jersey.
A doctor once told me this thing:
"If a body part ever goes ping"
'You must dial 999'
'And then hold the line'
While they search for a brace or a sling
Clapclapclap
A stranger once said to James Joyce
Oi found Ulysses was quoite noice
But then I'm from Bristol
An' reading's a mystrol
Though me teacher di'n't give me much choice.
Then again, there is Finnegan's Wake
(My copy lies deep in a lake)
Its sigla are daunting
But the author is taunting
Sorry, I can't keep awake
There is nothing quite like a giraffe
Agreed
You asked for that
Bismarck - There is nothing quite like a giraffe
When it makes an unpardonable gaffe
While on the job, mating
It broadcasts a rating
Which is all just done for a laugh.
The wobbegong's beautiful tassels
Oft used to decorate castles
Are now so rare
That my castle is bare
It's one of life's little hassles.
Were we to eat steak for breakfast
Clad solely in socks and a string vest
Such lack of discretion
Impairs good digestion
When I guzzle it straight down my neck fast Mercy killing
Lear's Pobble, we're told, has no toes
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