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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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Had a bugle. T'was his pride and joy
He'd play it all day
While he sat in the hay
With Sulu, his winsome toy boy
In winter, the sky seems to snow
The flakes flurry as the wind blows!
The will to live withers
The temptation to post: "BANG!<hr>" is overpowering :o)
The weatherman blithers
And we sip our hot red bordeaux ...
With Dickens, Mulled Ale was the thing or was it Mulled Wine?
He preferred it to champagne or bling
But of course, there's a Twist
And with Oliver pissed oblig.
Gruel was bought with the last farthing.
I heard the characteristic sound of a synchromesh eating itself on that last line. Perhaps it's just me though.
Today I met old Mr. Scrooge
Wearing eyeliner, perfume and rouge
With his arm around Cratchit (Sierra M) It ain't just you unless it's just the pair of us.
Whose own make-up did match it
I felt like I needed refuge!
Oh, let's sing an ode to the tench
Of its wonderful barbels and stench
But this tasty fish
If asked, has one wish:
Would be, "throw me back in the trench!"
Would be: "Oh, throw me back in the trench" seems to fit more snugly to me. Are my ears on the blink?
And now let the Cod stir our muse
With a chorus of Bass singing blues
Add in a cow
A bird on a bough
And a sheep makes it "Tweets, Bleats and Moos". - [Rosie/SM] Nope, it's not just you, unless it's just the three of us
Now let's chant on the worth of an eel Well done everyone on that last one
Just one pound a pound - it's a steal
In a sour jelly sauce
And mash, but of course
We must top with stewed eyeballs of Seal!
As I swallowed an octopus whole
I pondered the state of my soul
As its tentacles gripped
Round my spline it just slipped
T'was a bit of a sushi "own goal"
I talk to the trees - no reply
They say not a word - must be shy
I'll summon Prince Charles
To bring organic farls
And other such green stimuli. [Marc, 2 up] Alarming capitalisation, no?
Deep in the Forest of Dean [Tuj] maybe he meant the singer
There lives a cantank'rous old Queen
He dresses in drag
When he goes for a fag
The Yank kind, if you know what I mean!
How do you get text small? A hard break is needed here.
Up in the clouds, lives a moose
He's mauve, with a trace of chartreuse.
He looks kindly down [Kage] The simplest incantation to make small text is to put <small> and </small> around the text you want to disembiggen. Tuj, Software and I have gone a step or two beyond the basics, however.
With nary a frown
As he sips on jicama juice.
A good limerick follows some rules, My line is not a perfect example though. Good hints may be found here: http://freespace.virgin.net/merrick.sheldon/limerickrules.htm
Oft ignored by colonial fools
In time they may learn
That when it's their 'turn'
The limerick monster then drools
We've had too many big spats
And garishly styleless hats [Softers] My point exactly.
With big plume-like feathers
And bunches of heathers awful scansion
Festooned with twenty live rats
Prime the carb! Good! Now, pull on the string! Lawnmowing. Sigh.
Gosh - it started - I can hear it sing!
Its great throbbing roar
Shakes window and door (Softers) Not all God's children got rhythm, it seems.
And birds take quickly to wing
In a lake where thick mists do abound
The kelpie can often be found
This aquatic equine
So hard to define
Eats children, once they have been drowned
In the vale of the shadow of death OK to continue geographic theme?
Lived a gnome who was strung out on meth
This short-arsed stoned tweaker
Drank grog from a beaker
And could stop a big bus with his breath. (Spangle) Very much so, Gary. We do themes quite often.
A dwarf, in the Forest of Arden Geog. and Mythic themes cont'd
Tends an insectivorous plant garden
Though one day after lunch
He had a hunch
He was gone in one munch Sorry KS, we need more syllables!
In a triffid that grew in his garden.
The Humber, the Ouse and the Trent
Each one gave up flowing in Lent
With riverbeds dry
And craft all awry
Wondrin' where all the water had went
As we stood on our boat, high and dry Continuing this riparian theme
We thought the world's end must be nigh
Then down came the rain
Our ark floats again!
Send the wind - for our boat might just fly!

Marc - There once was a lady named Jude, A classic one for a change?
Whose language was vulgar and rude
This foul-mouthed young hussy Oh dear
Was clearly not fussy
About where she verbally pooed. It's Jannit Stwee' Paw'aah!
While poling one day in a punt
A loud hussy called me a runt
So I shouted right back
"It's class, dear, you lack"
Then I poled her backside with a dunt.
While rowing one day down the Dee
I stopped in Llangollen for tea
And when I was sated
My watch indicated
The time was a quarter to three
This paint has gone hard in the tin!
It now has that rhino-like skin (irach) My Dad went to school in Llangollen, where he learnt English.
Yet its shocking pink hue (Rosie)I had come from the US to work on a biotechnology project in Wrecsam and had visited nearby Llangollen four years ago. Lovely place.
Stops me feeling blue
And makes me break out in a grin.
There never was a marshmallow
Made from taconite, asphalt and tallow
But the latest from Lidl (irach) Yes, nice place. But can you pronounce it? You could be forgiven if you can't. "Wrecsam" is a fairly recent Welshification of the original English name. A bit clumsy, seeing that it doesn't obey the rules of Welsh pronunciation if pronounced as "Wrexham" but a change from the usual traffic in the opposite direction (eg Cardiff, Pembroke, Lampeter, Brecon, Barmouth).
Is quite a riddle
Though the flavor, it is a bit shallow.
Oops, line needed!
My mother thinks I need a shave
Crappy scansion:

KagomeShuko - My mum thinks I need a shave
Software - So I'll just have to be brave

[Softers] Worse. What exactly was wrong with the original? It has the same beat pattern as others on this page.
KagomeShuko - My mother thinks I need a shave
Software - And so I'll just have to be brave
I Say, Porter! - My new cut-throat razor
Propelled by green-laser
Was bought off a cockney called Dave
One day while out drinking Real Ale
I heard a most agonised wail
It went "Ralph!" and then "Huey!"
It looked like chop-suey
It happens each time without fail.
"This paté is off!" I exclaimed
"That darned novice chef must be blamed!"
Is what we contrive
Hidden textI just went back over the various verses herein and I believe that the ones in which line three was used to develop the theme in lines one and two seem to give a sense of unified completion whereas those in which line three veers off into new territory end up conveying an unfinished feel more often than not. It doesn't seem to matter much in this scheme of evaluation whether line two takes a sudden left turn. Of course, now I come to think about it, a line two diversion leaves fifty percent more poem time to work through the new idea than a line three unsignalled turn.
Hidden textIn My Opinion, of course, and I'm not suggesting anything needs fixing.
When PETA's petition's defamed
A beetle, a slug, and a squirrel
Named Bernie, David and Cyril struggling for a rhyme
Left Liverpool's shore
For they'd come to deplore
Their mis'rable lives on the Wirral nice work, Spangle!
American Football's more like "hand-egg"
Thanks Phil. But sorry KagomeS - you are making it very difficult for others to play nicely, as they say.
[Sprangle] In my humble opinion it is not better, nor worse, than the average standard these days...
KagomeShuko - American Football's more like "hand-egg"
Marc - And USA pints are more a beer-keg
This isn't a limerick
So we rhyme with a little dick
And light the fuse to the powder-keg ***BoooooM***

There was an old man of East Cheam
Who was known to be "broad in the beam"
His magnificent rump
Was both rounded and plump
And out of his bunghole came steam.
My mother snores like a pig
[KS] Don't you mean your grandmother?
And besides she is awfully big (assuming grandmother for several reasons ;-)
Asleep on her back
All her muscles go slack
And off slip her rings, teeth and wig.
To prevent vi'lent earthquakes one must
Roll in a pile of gold dust
And then drill a deep hole
Eat ragoût of vole
And watch 'Monte Carlo Or Bust'.
The fear of a bursting balloon
Has fettered this worthy Walloon Walloon: n. One of a French-speaking people of Celtic descent inhabiting southern and southeast Belgium and adjacent regions of France.
For a bang in Bastogne
Makes him flee to Boulogne
And wet his brand new pantaloon
In the theatre I'll make a new life!
Away from the trouble and strife
As the curtain ascends
I have four hundred friends
At the end they threw apples and knifes!
"This weekend the office is closed,"
"We're having the furniture hosed"
"All the coffee and crumbs"
are all quoted by Mums
When they're feeling unkindly disposed

So shoot me :^)
No problem! Marc, pass me my gun Well you asked for it Spangle
Multiposters shall die, every one! (Actually, we usually let them off with a keelhauling these days.)
But first we'll keelhaul 'em
Hidden textBut we keelhaul 'em first would have been kinder
Then let rottweilers maul 'em Can't believe the assembled peoples did not object vociferously to Marc's utterly atrocious "knifes".
Then chop off their heads just for fun! (Sorry folks, I saw a lot of rotten apples and knives in the air that night… ;-)
Long ago when all maidens were chaste,
And their stays were laced tight at the waist
Men used to try
All brave men used to try (adding a few syllables...)
With a grip ‘round their thigh
If their legs were sufficiently spaced

He shrugged off their words with distain
Accompanied by this refrain:
"Sticks and stones - hurt my bones,"
Do people get some perverse pleasure out of spoiling this game for others? C'mon man - you've been playing here long enough :^)
Let's see what can be done with this
"Your sticks and stones
May hurt my bones"
But, you see, I'm in love with such pain

He shrugged off their words with distain
Accompanied by this refrain:
"Sticks and stones - hurt my bones,
As do hurled traffic cones
But, you see, I'm in love with such pain"

 ?

[SM] Well done - I didn't see anything wrong with Marc's line either, which uses a correct anapaestic rhythm. I would like to object to no-one picking up on the incorrect spelling of "disdain" though.
[Phil] I overlooked nasty "distain"
There's a problem it seems with my brain
It seems to be telling
Me to ignore spelling
When used in a hum'rous refrain

Sorry for horrible scansion.

He shrugged off their words with disdain
Accompanied by this refrain:
"Sticks and stones - hurt my bones,
Not to mention cellphones,
That keeps filling my ears with deep pain!”
(enough of this then...)
[Phil] Interesting - until you said it, I couldn't hear Marc's line in a way that made it correct. The influence of the rhythm of the original 'Sticks and stones' chant just got in the way, I suppose.
A young lady from old London town
Wore to Ascot a transparent gown
The resulting mêlée
Caused by said negligée
Turned the once verdant lawn dirty brown
This young woman's gauzy attire The theme is worth developing a little more
Was based on a thin frame of wire
It was easily bent
To convert to a tent
With a leftover piece for a spire.
Friday night and the eggnogs are free (Well done all, free eggnogs to everybody including Sprangle!)
The young ladies are drunk as can be
Alas, so am I
And I want pumpkin pie
But none of these babes bake, you see?
The cult of the hero is flawed (Cheers Marc - jolly generous under the circs :^)
Lesser mortals are easily awed
With gold head and clay feet
They're not quite the elite
They should all be put to the sword
A deep-fried pork pie's just the thing
To make arteries lose their zing
Though the taste is insipid
Being quite high in lipid
It will clog our veins with a wring...
There's a show on the old BBC
‘bout a sex-selling young frenchisee (sic)
Dr Who's Billie Piper
Is scared by a viper
Are you sure it's not ITV3?
I've got an idea for a show:
Called 'How Does Your Garden Grow?'
Its hostess' name's Mary
She's big, blond and scary
When brandishing dibber and hoe
I've got an idea for a shoe
That involves pink feathers and glue
It's most orthopaedic
If somewhat comedic
'cause the size that I need is 'canoe'...
Now that was really nice. Shall I start another?
I've got an idea for a jacket Allow me, m'dear.
It's got bling and will cost me a packet
Its ermine-trimmed ruff
Doubles up as a muff
So I'll call it my < Cockney Rhyming Slang > Desmond Hackett </Cockney Rhyming Slang >
[Softers] I think your Desmond Hackett also needs to be old.
My trousers are have broken the mould
They're pink satin and sequined in gold
Though tight in the seat
They make it look neat [pen] yes, I meant to but forgot :o(
When they splat and my bare butt got cold.
Oh Dear, won't you please come inside,
At least 'til the bloodstains have dried
This axe in my head
Is no cause for dread
I'm an extra in 'Frankenstein's Bride'
Excellent!
I once found an eye in my soup
It stared at me through beefy goop
My mom said, "It's a pea,"
But I knew it could see
‘cause it blinked – it was Billy the Snoop! (Why me?)
"My dear Watson, I think it was you,"
"Who has spent the weekend sniffing glue"
"What I smoke in my pipe"
"Is something more ripe"
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