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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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I like being broad in the beam
The comfort I get
From a full buttock set
Is matched by a fine bosom team
[P, i, p, So, Sp] Jolly good, I enjoyed that :-)
My shoulder is hurting like hell
And it makes my arm ache as well Actually this is timely, I have a trapped nerve in my shoulder and it does hurt like hell!
I must give up darts
And start dating tarts
As my jerk-muscle's started to swell.
I shall reach for my coat and my hat
Don them, adjust my cravat (Chasty) Your jerk muscles are situated in your hand and forearm and I detect overuse.
The make for the door
For us who don't score
The whorehouse will remedy that
My life has been turned upside down
In my new job as "Famed Head-stand Clown"
The blood to my head rushes
Which gives me hot flushes
Which at least brings some kind of renown
There once was a man who was smart
Who could cunningly conceal a fart
Or so he had thought Fool. You can never achieve that.
Because he was caught
Claiming hydrogen sulphide as art.
I wish I had super strength
I'd not ask, "Are the foils all a length?"
I would just use me arms
And switch on all my charms
Albeit imbibe far less absinthe.
One day while washing my car
Of bird droppings, fag ash and tar Last one absolutely dreadful.
Which clogged up my chamois *careful now*
And made it all clammy Antipodean Pronunciation invoked
Now it's shining and worthy a Czar
In French, but not English, there's gender (Pablo) Wot, clamwah?.
In UK its a wing, not a fender
US -"center", not "centre"
but you can tell what is meant: a
In this case we've arrived at The Ender.
My boss (it's a she) never knows
The colour I've painted my toes
One day I'll surprise her
By using Budweiser
And the powder left from Cheetos.
The good folk of Chorlton-cum-Hardy
Are quite underweight - never lardy
But the chiels o' Dumfries
Are loaded with grease
Smelly, obese and quite mardy
There was an old man of Dundee called William Topaz McGonagall.
Who wrote verse that the people of Dundee and beyond found comical
He strove with heroic verse both night and day
Each effort more disastrous than the Tay
His poetry you can still see, serialised in the Edinburgh Chronicle
It seems at last we've found our level
And so we can begin to revel [Simons]Is this some quaint old Tudor metre for limericks that you have resurrected?
Poetic form is so passé 4 lines, AABB?
The Lim'rick déclassé - It still works as a Limerick, IMHO: It seems at last we've found our level / And so we can begin to revel / Poetic (pronounced pwetic) form is so passé
But this stuff sounds more like Phil Neville. (Phil notNeville) You're a kinder man than me. SM's line can be greatly improved by inverting we've and at last. (Pablo) Any further references to "quaint old Tudor" will be treated with the utmost disdain. :-)
So who took my great name in vain
The whole world, old chap, once again Not a diamond geezer, then.
On the silvery Tay
As you stood up to say: [Rosie]Scorn my Tudor references as you will, the fact remains that Simons started us off in 6/8 metre but with crotchet-quaver pattern ending on a weak beat, whereas you finish with traditional limerick 6/8, all in quavers and finishing on the strong beat. Metric mismatch! (Sorry for expressing it in musical terms but have forgotten all that anapestic/trochaic/pterodactyls stuff.)
"Would you look at that f***ing big train!"
That's silly enough for the nonce
About with this stuff let's not ponce (Pablo) It was mock indignation, a joke (note the smiley), nothing to do with metre. Are you aware of my real name, and age? I thought most the the Morniverse was.
Just get to the point
Or we'll have to appoint
A gendarme to whack noobs on the bonce.
I spied from behind a net curtain
A something, of which I'm not certain? It could be... may-be not... or may-be it's... No, sorry I can't make it out, can any of you?
Could it be a duck? [Rosie] re name and age, I have heard rumours, but would not like to act on anything unsubstantiated :-)
Flattened out by a truck
Or hotpot by Betty Turpin
The Thames did once stink to high heaven
In fact, you could smell it from Devon
But some Eau de Cologne
Shipped by old Sly Stallone
Raised the pH to eleven. Caustic comments awaited.
It's true! I've seen elves, gnomes, and fairies
Who always pick my strawberries.
These funny wee folk
My joints they will smoke
And annoy me by shouting "Hail Marys"
While mowing my lawn in the rain
My foot felt a quite sudden pain
It turns out I'd stood
On something that should
Have driven a maniac insane.
Last night as I went to the pub
for a pint, or maybe some grub
But stood at the bar
Was my own avatar
Who'd escaped from the Second Life hub. Anyone else here active on Second Life?
I've just written a lovely new tune
A duet for steel drum and bassoon
Its tinny low drone
Like an orgasmic groan
Sounds so sweet on a warm night in June. Apparently not, then.
I stood on my own in the dark
Aghast, in Van Cortlandt Park
With my money all gone
In the Bronx, all forlorn
I felt a bit of a nark
Don't look at the sun through binocs
Or sail over Niag. in a box
If thrills you must seek
Just pretend you are Greek
And try changing fonts in a .docx
[Raak] I spent a few months playing with Second Life a few years back. I found it interesting but also somewhat baffling. I think I never figured out whether to be me, or whether I should be creating some new persona. Maybe I should take a look back in there again sometime.
[CdM] It's said that introverts tend to make avatars that are copies of themselves, while extroverts make avatars completely unlike themselves. My first av was basically a copy of me, although it's evolved away from that (for one thing, it's female now), and my second I started with something random and have been tweaking it ever since. I'm still the same person behind the keyboard though -- I find it impossible to put on a different manner with a different avatar.
My avatar's manic and loud
It wants to stand out in the crowd
To advertise me
And accept a small fee
And for this I am not at all proud.
There once was a wonderful kisser
(It's no wonder so many miss her.)
Her lips she did pucker
Like a giant squid's sucker
But sadly she's pulling your pisser The one with the belt missing, thanks
My trenchcoat is missing its belt
I found out just now when I felt u.s.a.
The breeze quite so cold
It made certain things BOLD
So i hurried back home at full pelt...
I know where I am - I am lost!
And really don't need to be bossed!
So shuddupa ya face
Just get on the case
And tell me which oceans I've crossed?
Relying on GPS
I think there's a missing 'my' in that line. On that assumption:
Is a sure route to anguish and stress
It's well-known to deceive
Or at least I believe
'Cos I wanted Bough Beech; got Loch Ness.
A certain young kangaroo
To an emu said, "How do you do?"
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