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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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Which caused me to wheeze
And cough up a collection of rocks.
Last night while I lay in my bed
I pondered the book I'd just read
The hero, I'm sure,
Was no epicure
Subsisting on baked beans and bread.
My first is in bed and asleep Limeriddles, or something. Or not.
My second is still counting sheep
My third's a surprise
And my fourth does arise
And of the fifth, you won't hear a peep I think we were all stumped on that one. Moving along now...
While I was putting the lights on my tree Xmas theme.
I felt a sharp pain in my knee
Oh, my patella
Get me codeine, young fella
And watch my low limb swinging free (below the knee that is...)
The fluff of my navel is gone
Thanks to this invent-ion
It sucks up the lint
Leaves the fragrance of mint
A cosmetic sine qua non.
When you've got to the top of your game
You should quit well before you're thought lame
For an ageing has-been
Should never be seen
As a resplendent pantomine dame
At Christmas we eat and we drink
But sometimes I have a deep think
My kids then say "Dad,
How much gin have you had?"
Was it Gordon's? Or p'raps was it pink?"
It's almost two-thousand-and-nine
The year of both roses and wine (hopefully)
And juxtaposition
Though price of admission,
Is more than its worth every time
There was a young lad from Bordeaux
Who crossed a Cabernet grape with a Gordo
The juice, when fermented, [irach] I'm reporting you to the Scansion Commission
Made drinkers demented
And girls, though quite chaste, set aglow
A scansion policeman named Bob
Was really quite keen on his job
To such an extent
('bout 200 percent)
That a few syllables he would rob
Please don't put your trash in the bin
To throw anything out is a sin
So recycle all waste
All in good taste
And swallow this Scotch mixed with Gin
The problem with being middle-class
Is that it can be a pain in the arse
The upper crust, though
Are smug 'cause they know
That where there is muck, there is brass
But if you're as common as muck
No silver spoon - no such luck
Get your ar*e on TV
As a Cel-e-brit-ee
And try not to use the word that is now in widespread use in the media, something I thoroughly disapprove of despite my frequent use of it in private conversation.
Big Brother's a load of cheap tat Is this what you mean, Rosie?
The F-Word's no better than that Is Gordon Ramsay the chief culprit, Rosie?
But fortunate-lee (Softers, Kim) Yeah, that sort of thing.
I don't watch TV
And that's why I am such a brat ...
When lines do not follow the rule
Some bullys cry out "What a fool!"
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