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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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Then your eye is quite sharp
So thanks, Twyla Tharp,
For a dress that's my fondest desire.
There are days and besides there are Mondays
Which rarely we find are the fun days
They can sure get one down
From dawn till sundown
Or a week - 'cause today it is Tuesday.
By Jove, what a beautiful van!
At the wheel I can see Princess Anne
She's towing a trailer
On the way to her tailor
While her horn toots a regal pavane.
While waiting for lights to turn green
I polished my horn to a sheen
But the burnishing friction
At the traffic restriction
Turned everything red - ain't that mean?...mercy...?
There once was a game in Vancouver?
At which I was a shaker and mover
I moved and I shook
People gave me that look
But I carried on using my Hoover [Marc] Why the question mark? Just curious
[Chalky] They said there was an Olympic Winter Game going on but I was not sure that anyone noticed (though all TV-channels all over the globe had almost nothing else to show ;-)
In the steep slopes of Aspen she fell,
For a ski-bum who skied oh so well
As she gazed at his pole
An unmarked snow patrol - [Marc] Ah I see. Well I watched loads of it. v enjoyable :)
said "Go for it, love - what the hell?"
While planning a raucous weekend
With my mate, his wife and her friend
We thought that the bed
Would make a fine sled
And wouldn't be this hard to mend
There was a young fellow called Eric
Who climbed to the top of a derrick
Then he climbed down again
Because of the rain
Getting wet made him really hysteric
It's Friday, let's go to the pub
For a beer and a B.L.T. sub
A packet of nuts
And chicks with great butts
In the crowd we may get a good rub?
[irach and Marc] eh? It's not a discussion I really want to get into, but the lines that you two just wrote are either crap or very offensive. Or both.
[pen]If you don't want to discuss a matter, why on earth do you post your remark? Hopefully we did not offend you, at least my line was not directed against anyone in particular. Our lines are well in line with the normal standard of the limericks at this and adjacent sites whether you like them or not.
There once was a man who got lost
[Marc] I wish to register my displeasure, that's why. And yes you did offend me, and your lines were below the standard I have come to expect - they don't make sense without the filthiest of interpretation, they don't scan, and they're laboured.
As on the night train he had dossed (Marc) pen is right - it wasn't one of your better ones.
He woke up at Lands End
Which was sure to offend,
And so out of the train he was tossed
There once was a girl with a butt
So fancy and with a great cut
Its streamlined perfection
Could cause hard erection
For those who had more than one nut! [Rosie]This one is just for you because you always defend us lonely little girls like the brave White Knight of mc5!
I stare at the moon - it stares back (Chasty) I'm flattered. Have you got her email address? :-)
As I'm out in the park in my mac
And alone in the dark
Sans my girlfriend from Sark
So I'm hoping to score some good crack.
A line that may satisfy all
Runs from far Samarkand to Kirkstall
And if you take the trains
Nobody complains
Once you've covered your arse with a shawl.
Sensibilities are easily shaken
Like when offering the Rabbi some bacon
Or when having to put up with this rhythmically inappropriate heap of steaming ordure. Free-form limericks, anyone?
[Monica and Beck] Please don't worry, Headmaster Rosie may sound a bit peevish now and then. What is meant is probably that you should try to follow the established Limerick rules that you may find here: http://poetry-please.tripod.com/id5.html
For instance:
Your senses are easily shaken
When offering the Rabbi some bacon
Or step someones toes
With lines you compose
For the Mick is easily taken
My mellifluous contra-bassoon
Is best played up on the moon
Where the absence of air
[Rosie] - not getting much sex? I understood this was a recreational activity you sad repressed mare.
[monica (any relation to Monica?)] Like all recreational activities, limericks and sex are both better when done right.
Prevent blowjobs beware ;-)
And ends not a moment too soon
When mixing hot air and stale gas
It is all about volume not mass Yankee pronunciation invoked...
So just wave your fan (irach) Same as Britpron. Even Ian Paisley says mass.
And follow the plan
Outlined in your chemistry class
On Mondays its back to the job
We’ll struggle to make a few bob
So play wi' t'computer
and search for a suita-
-ble way to escape the dull mob. [Kim] Well played.
There was a young fellow whose ears (Kim, Raak) V good.
Would attract derision and jeers
Yet Camilla, his wife
Cut them off with her knife (Oh no, not Camilla??)
And now they're hereditary peers
While planning a trip from Heathrow [Chalks] Bravo!
I thought "Tube". Give it a go
But a dim adolescent
Set light to the Crescent -- WE know what that means ..
And now the whole place gonna blow!
In Cairo the alleys are narrrow
Down which the marchers from Jarrow
Filed one at a time
Off-course for the Tyne
It's a far cry from fish and stuffed marrow
According to George Bernard Shaw
the content of Newton's first law
Was known to the Greeks
To need a few tweaks
Or it stayed where it was, on the floor.
All sailors get wet when they sail
Most whalers will wail when they whale
But anglers who angle
And their maggots they dangle
Will spin to us all a tall tale
A seller of second-hand wigs
Had his stock nicked by one Ronnie Biggs
This infamous blagger
An outrageous swagger
Swapped the lot for a handful of figs
A gourmand who loves parboiled quince
Presented his tart to the Prince
The Prince found her willing
For the price of one shilling
To sit on his face ever since (shame on you guys!)
A nun who was chaste and devout
Thought one day she'd find out
That her promise to God
Was remarkably odd
So she decided to put it about
There once was a redheaded blonde
Who dyed froggies pink in a pond
She claimed that this hue
Would improve their virtue
But they still burped and crapped - she'd been conned.
If we live ‘til we die we get old
Unless we live backwards, I'm told
The path of time's arrow
Is both straight and narrow
So how long 'til I get paroled?
I've not passed this way for a while
And my path is now blocked by a stile
But my Right Of Way
Will ensure that I may
Walk along any road with a smile
I play a dead parrot in skits
And try imitate how it sits
The nails in my feet
Will help to complete
the impression it's all done by twits
A young lady from Burton-on-Trent
Had a figure that seemed heaven-sent
But closer inspection
Revealed imperfection
By then, though, I'd come and she'd spent.
The dreams that she wove in her loom
Were threads of both despair and gloom
But a streak of pure gold
Her future foretold
Once she'd promised the first from her womb
The tiger had vertical stripes
So he bought some nice baby wipes
After a scrub and a rub
Applied to her cub
The stripes turned to spots of three types
It's never too late to give up
Trying to housebreak your pup
So don't let it sit
and just widdle and spit
But the Brummies would say you were tup
The morning of Mr. Magellan
Was spent with Roddy Llewellyn
And this disparate pair
Hunted Lionel Blair
To what end I am leery of tellin'
Driving in ovals is daring
To go topless on beaches is baring
But diving with sharks
When completely starks
Will wake people up, keep'em staring.
Whatever you like is a sin
From sex to a bottle of gin
But a nice cup of tea
Spiked with pure THC (tetrahydocannabinol, that is...)
Makes Hamish and Dougal just grin.
All's good in true moderation
Excess may cause botheration
But a bit here and there
And a pint everywhere
May help to prevent constipation
There's little that's new anymore
We've seen all this stuff once before
The Cycle of Being
Can have one agreeing
That reincarnation's a bore.
There's a man who lives right on our street Well done on that last one, everyone.
Who is said to possess two left feet
His dual sinisterity
And absent dexterity
is a hoot when his two left knees meet
My efforts to drain the Black Sea
Were quite abysmal, you see.
From Romania's edge
I started to dredge
But global warming now does it for free
Today at a quarter to three
I'll have honey for afternoon tea
And then - should I risk it?
A raw egg; just whisk it Yuk.
Then ask her to lap-dance with me
I stare out the window all day
I just want to go out to play
My red vuvuzela
For Nelson Mandela
'Cos he's no musician, they say.
My cursor has turned big and white
And the rest of the screen's black as night
The CD-ROM's beeping
The CPU's sleeping
Hidden textPhotoshop has crashed again.
Just Windows – no reason for fright.
While watching the Test on the telly
Which Waitrose now have near the deli
I dream of steak tartar
And electric guitar
To hide my big muscular belly.
The prodigal son has returned!
Let the fat calf be spitted and turned!
And when it is done
We'll serve on a bun
That's been toasted 'til brown but not burned
I've no time for chitter chatter
I have some paint balls to splatter
You'd best run and hide
And seek scansion guide
Lest the ref call you off for a natter.
In Moscow the smog is disgusting
And Curtain of Iron is rusting
Acid rain is a problem
So, factories? Just nobble 'em
And give that domed Kremlin a dusting
'Tis said by the ones "in the know"
That in April the rain comes as snow
In May, sleet is hail
In June rain and gale
Which only adds to our woe.
While sunning myself on the beach a change in the weather
Tony Blair began giving a speech
With my head in the sand
(I could not take a stand)
Shut him up, please, I beseech.
On my way to the dentist I saw
Something I'd not seen before
Pus oozed from loose molars
And it ran onto the floor!
oops, got it mixed up!
Onto babies in strollers This is the correct one to use.
And then it ran on to the floor! [Perfectly good last line too, I'd say.]
The talented Dr McCoy
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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