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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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I tried using rum
And some barnacle gum
Applied with a rotary motion
A fearsome great beast, the gorilla
Attacking with sticks, like Attila
But with its own kin
It serves tonic , with gin
Imported each day from Manila
I stood all alone in the bunker
Above flew a bomb-carrying Junker
As I took my sand-wedge
My partner, that's Reg,
Imbibed and got steadily drunker
I just met a man in the street
Oi! you've just done that one in MCiOS With knobbly knees and large feet
His clown shoes and nose
And his three-foot-long toes
In the circus he'd go down a treat
I just met a man in the street [Rosie] Hmm?
Extolling the virtues of wheat
When asked as to why
He said: "I can't lie,"
"I love having corns on my feet"
[Darren] Ooooow.

If you should encounter a chugger

Be wary - he may be a bugger
And the smile on his face
Hides a life of disgrace
For he is Al Fayed, that fugger.
My spleen has a mind of its own
My kidneys do nothing but moan
But my Heart is still beating
My stomach repeating
And the naughty part down there is blown (I'll get the coat and hat myself, thank you...)
While scouring the world for perfection
I discovered this chocolate confection
Which does contain nuts
cocain and cold cuts
Now I'm two inches stouter midsection
The world is imperfect, alas
Ecosystems are fragile, like glass
[irach] Elegant end to the last one. Well done; have an e-biscuit :-)

With one final jolt

The earth will revolt
And kick us all in the ass as our American friends would say.
Americans? Vulgar? Not so!
Nor Britons all snobs, don'cha know
Though the rest of the lot, (Well, not me of course!)
Live in countries too hot
Or places all covered in snow
In Boston they dumped some fine tea
In December, Seventeen-Sev'nty-Three
Out into the bay
Without a tea tray
It tasted just like weak gnat's pee
My hairdresser chatters away (Softers) The strong stuff is OK. Tangy.
About how he's overtly gay
He's into high camp
His wig curled - like a vamp
And he thinks he's the Queen of the May
If it weren't for the mould on the ceiling
I would not have this strange, awkward feeling
That I am about
To be left without
Anywhere that is not damp and peeling.
Each weekend I pursue my hobby
And please, do not think I am snobby
I ride with the hunt
Ride a fine Oxford punt
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