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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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Poor Umbridge, nice place
(but thumb stayed in face)
But my dad didn’t mind, not a crumb.
It is often the case that my Dad
Talks of lives he might somehow have had
Had he taken the chance
And moved over to France
He would have been labelled a cad.
It is never the case that my son
Stops his laces from coming undone
Despite double bow
And a lot of velcro.
He always trips up on a run.
It is sometimes the case that my daughter
Does not always do what she oughta
She stays out at night
And she looks such a sight
But satisfies the riff-raff who court her.
Line up on this board by the pool
In height order, you know the rule
On my count of three
All bend at the knee
And shed a world-ranking stool
When at the North Pole you'll see
Santa Claus on an Amazon spree
With one-click aplomb
You can send him a bomb
Which he'll give to kids who are naughty.
In April I open my bill
In the hope of a gobful of krill
Instead, there was sewage
And what's more (the worst bit)
It's making me feel rather ill
As we come to the end of the year
Let's let fly with this impotent jeer:
I'll cut off your balls
Which I'll nail to the walls
Instead of holly and ivy, you hear?
Such seasonal violence aside
Let peace rule on this Christmastide
Let's all just chill out
You'd better not shout.
Pull a cracker – BANG – oops, the peace died.
Cold turkey is no kind of fun
And a sign that the roast's underdone
Fruitcake's no good
So gimme Christmas Pud
While I wait for the year's course to run
The secret for succulent meat
Lies down at the end of our street
Those burgers are yummy
For they're flame-grilled with honey
So no need to go on to sweet
My cat had a wonderful Yule
E'en though he behaved like a tool
He chainsawed the tree
And ate the budgie
So I’m rehoming him in Kabul
It will now take some weeks for my belly
To shift from in front of the telly
My brain, too, is f****d rhyme it as you wish
But there's two Roses left!
Shall I have 'em? Why, yes! On your nelly!
It is grim and I want for some sun
But the rain and the fog aren't quite done
And tonight, snow and ice
Will be playing at dice
With hailstones (for even more fun!)
This was fun, but I have to be going
Next morning for Cambridge I’m rowing
The cox says my stroke
Needs that much more poke
And I must ditch the hamper I'm towing
The whales off of east New South Wales
Are relaxed about storms, floods and gales
Well, some like it rough
(Orcas surf in the buff)
But enough off-the-cuff whale details.
Have you recently fallen in love?
I wouldn't quite call it that, bruv
Then have you been dating?
I'm equivocating
Such pedestrian stuff, I'm above
As the weather grows colder and colder
The White Walkers roam south ever bolder
No wall is too high
The zombies draw nigh!
Someone stop them! We need a door-holder!
Here's the carrot and there is the stick
So which are you going to pick?
The choice is so hard
Like picking a card
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
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