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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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But don't tell the public, me hearty!
And don't tell the cops
They're all out on Ops
Instead, tell Ms. S. Chakrabarti Mercy killing
If you need to be rescued just blink
But quickly - before you do sink
Then the RNLI
Will quickly be by
And pull you from out of the drink.
If you get lots of stuff from Lidl
Especially things from the middle
Check the sell-by date first
Lest your wurst be the worst
Or how it works is a riddle
Pray tell, can you answer me this:
What's the surest path to Earthly Bliss?
Take the Bakerloo line
With a bottle of wine
To Neasden. Too good to miss.
Once Willie, Baz, Graeme and Tim
Played crazy word games on a whim
To an audience of nerds
Who clap all their words
With quite copious vigour and vim Moving swiftly on...
We've had pestilence, plague - and now war
As the world falls beneath the Beast's paw
So now run for your life
Aggression is rife
The apocalypse waits at the door.
"I've a ferret down here" said the man
'It showed up on my MRI scan'
But the blood and pee tests
Showed an absence of pests
So no-one will carry the can
My ferret's a pet not a pest
So I knitted a ferret-sized vest
It's cable-knit too
Pure wool coloured blue
All this at the ferret's behest.
A jumper is good, so I'm told
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
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
But sports a flannel-wrapped nose
,Two diamond-shaped arms
Which can recite the Psalms
As to Aunt Jobiska he goes.
There once was a man and a goat
Who joined up in a popular vote
To legalise butts
But they hadn't the guts
To back their idea on the Tote.
On tuning to Radio Three
Broadcast live from the Rose of Tralee
I heard a long pause Can you hear a pause?
Then thund'rous applause
Which of course was intended for me.
On tuning a past-it piano
I used old bits of Meccano
To sharpen the "A"
I chose a way
First learned in my days at P&O
I wonder if ChatGPT
Hidden textOf course! I'm here to assist with any questions you might have. However, it appears that your message was cut off before you completed your thought. Could you please provide more details so I can best assist you?
Is all that it's cracked up to be
It's cracked-up all right
Hidden textIt sounds like you have some doubts or reservations about AI like ChatGPT. It's true that while AI can be powerful, it also has limitations. ChatGPT, for instance, can generate human-like text based on a given input, and it's capable of answering a wide range of questions and engaging in various types of conversations. However, it doesn't have feelings, consciousness, or a personal experience. Here's a quick rundown of its capabilities and limitations: Capabilities: Answering factual questions within its knowledge cutoff (September 2021). Simulating conversation on a variety of topics. Helping with brainstorming and creative writing. Offering advice based on generally accepted wisdom or information. Language translation and interpretation. Limitations: It doesn't know anything about specific individuals unless that information has been shared in the course of the conversation. It doesn't have access to real-time information or updates post-September 2021. While it can generate creative content, its outputs are based on patterns it learned during training and not on original thought. It can sometimes produce incorrect or nonsensical answers, particularly for complex queries. I hope this clarifies things a bit. If you have specific questions about what ChatGPT can do, feel free to ask!
It booked me a flight
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