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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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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!"
"And as for your plurals" ....next line difficult....
"Worse than epidurals"
But being a rebel is cool
If you chant 'Rule Britannia' out loud
Stiff upper lips will stand proud
But! Say 'God Save the Queen',
And you'll cause a scene
– You'll have to leave under a cloud
There's no roy-al-tee for us Yanks
We make do with missiles and tanks
We drive pickup trucks
That we buy using bucks
And we spend all your oil saying: Thanks !
In Texas they say "Howdee y'all"
In Yorkshire "Ay-up"'s what they call
But in SW3
They say naught - you trust me
They write Limerick lines - what a ball!
There was a young fellow from Penge
Who decided to take his revenge
On his great-aunt from Poole
With a long-handled tool
he twisted her nose with a wrench
The bishops of Penge and of Poole
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