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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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Incentives should best do the trick.
The cave where the blue monkeys dwell
Has a very particular smell
Of typewriter ribbon
And erudite gibbon
So pongy, and funky as well.
O, to follow a winding canal
To somewhere more calm (not banal) Margo Leadbetter vowels invoked
With Prunella Scales
Whom Basil fails
With fawlty unsafe rationale
Sail a boat, bonny girl; be at peace.
You'll find all your problems will cease (Chalky) Classy, that
Your peace is assured (Rosie) too kind, dear chap
For the time you’re unmoored
If you keep all your rollocks well-greased.
When one tunes in to Radio 1
One will wish that one hadn't've done.
For it's radio crap
(moans the grumpy old chap)
It's like tuning in to The Sun Would rather not have used 'tune in' again but couldn't think of anything else that scanned.
While listening to Radio Two
- Which is what one would rather not do -
I was bored out my mind
Then thought "search and you'll find"
'I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue'
Go to bed in a bitter bad mood
And then breakfast on mountains of food
Then maybe you'll find
Your bogrolls unwind
To keep pace with the quantities pooed
The rate of inflation's insane
By the time I wrote this line, the gain
Is forty percent
So I live in a tent
As for cash, I have naught but disdain.
When one listens to Radio Three
(Which is not at all smug or snobby)
One's erudite taste
Does not go to waste
With Darjeeling as one's choice of tea
Now Radio Four's for the few
Such as those who Haven't A Clew
And those who like Ambridge
Or speak the welsh language
Tuned in from Lundy in a canoe.
(Chalky) Ofnadwy! Ti'n medddw neu rhywbeth?
Radio Caroline for me is the best
For those who are pop tune obsessed
But if you like jazz
Scuttle Radio Caz
And give Tony Blackburn a rest.
There's four thousand holes in the hall
Through which the kobolds will crawl
Even Superman quails
His power fails
So holes blocked, therefore, sod all.
There’s nine million bikes in Beijing
Each with a bell that goes ping
They fly through the dawn
And park on the lawn
Against the law of Comrade Xi Jiping
When the clock strikes out four steady chimes
It's the signal to set loose the mimes
Whose blitheness of spirit
Is of great mirit NZ pronunciation invoked
And moves along with the times
There isn't a reason I know
Why the cat should be starting to glow
Perhaps it's on heat
And hoping to meet
A cool cat to lay on a show.
I'm feeling some strange feelings, man
And I’m not sure it’s part of the plan
I seem to be joined
(While my reason’s purloined)
By James Bond in a VW van.
I've just taken leave of my senses
And I've start to relinquish my tenses
My ego is stilled
Libido killed
Ennui's destroyed my mental fences.
A spell at the track, watching dogs
In pursuit of fake hare each dog jogs
But a jog supersonic
(and that's NOT a mneumonic!)
Cannot be achieved wearing clogs.
It grows in each corner, like mould
When the air becomes stale, damp and cold
But if rats intervene
Just apply margarine
A rodenticide, so I am told.
If it's butter you seemingly lack,
Then make use of this genius hack:
Find a dandelion field
And ‘neath your chin wield
A small knob of Danish Lurpak
All the poems that ever were written
Can't compare to the new of a kitten
*mew
BIFURCATION!

But "new what?" you may ask | That soprano cry
Well! Let onlookers bask | Could bring tears to the eye
And they'll note that I've just been bitten/And a language that's yet to be written
Hmmm... Let's see if this one goes any better. :)

The most desperate words ever spoken
I exclaimed as I woke in Hoboken:
"Send Marmite! And cheese!"
"And some toasted bread, please"
And a 50p gas meter token!
[CdM] Another flub. 50P? In Hoboken? Woe, lackaday etc 8o)
All the dreams of my youth are long faded
All my sensuous tastes are long jaded
I shall lie in my bed
And watch TV instead
Then wink out, just the way the display did
Now the arc of my plan's more a spike
What's that? Speak into the mike
A bang then a whimper
A fart and a simper
(And the heckler can get on his bike)
[R,R,C,P] Now that was a limerick!
(CdM) Agreed. Top-drawer.
Can the real Mister Shady stand up?
So that we can present the cup
And a small piece of paper
Freshly dropped by a vaper
Which proves his real name is Miles Jupp
I am a Morniverser
May I revise as I think you put a glow worm in the limericks (and vice versa)
I play in the Morniverse games
Wearing gold-plated spectacle frames
But have noticed of late
That they're losing their plate
So I guess it's time for new frames.
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