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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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"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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