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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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I tried finding words to rhyme clear
Then gave up, and went to buy beer
When I entered the store
I found it cost more
So my eye developed a tear
I cried, and I cried, and I cried,
For I tried, and I tried, and I tried
But dear oh dear
I do fear, I do fear
That you lied and you lied and you lied.
[M, R, S, i, P] That's the most heart-rending limerick I think we've ever had. Well done.
Now let's think of cheerier matters
Like Tommy Cooper and other mad hatters
Morecombe and Wise?
Making mud pies
With their dressing gowns covered in spatters
It's time for my daily banana
All smothered with pureed sultana
A durian milk shake
(Quite a smelly mistake!)
Maybe I'll come back manãna
There's a reason I don't like young Dave
And I'll share it with you 'cause I'm brave
Is, he scares me, y'see
With that noise as he wee
And the daredevil way that he shave Marc, is English your native language? Because sometimes I wonder, the way you force rhymes in when the subject and sense just don't fit.
There once was a man with a beard
Which he grew because folks said he leered
But he leered unabated
At each lady he dated
And that Sir, is how come he got sheared.
While trying to play Brubeck's Take Five
My feet started dancing the jive
Their groovy gyrations
Made large perturbations
- I'm told that her toes won't survive.
Tonight is a full Lenten Moon
Which comes not a moment too soon
For I have indulged
And my belly has bulged
I admit - I'm a thorough poltroon
My favourite Uncle has claimed
That he was mistakenly blamed
For the financial mess
And for cheating in chess
For which he was named, shamed and maimed.
[p,S,M,P] :-)
"In jail you belong Uncle Andy!"
"Your excesses go beyond randy"
"For your lecherous way"
"You now have to pay"
But first, pour me some of that brandy?
Please stop this absurd punctuation
It leads to complete obfuscation
Say the words as they're spelled
Like "yacht", "Keighley", "knelt" (Raak) I'm sure you meant "spelt".
or "supertranssubstantiation"
All of us use electricity
Its chiefest appeal is simplicity
However, some find
That Propane gas, combined
In the kitchen causes duplicity
My mouse balls are sticky with dust
Which disables the joy of mouse lust well, really!
So I've screwed off the plug
Gave its balls a good tug
All of which leaves my mouse quite nonplussed
My monitor's baleful stare
Seems to plead, "Is anyone there?"
The answer, so sad
Because it's just a fad
To use this outdated hardware.
I've revived my old VC10
Which I last flew in - goodness known when!
Though its synthetic sound (http://www.vintagesynth.com/korg/vc10.php)
Makes it bound to the ground
Though we're airborne each Friday at ten.
The next time I see a black cat
At it I shall throw my hat
I shall swear curse and spit [Softers] Wouldn't 'old hat' give your line a better scansion?
As I rightly see fit
Then kick it away. And that's that.
Incredible as it may seem
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?"
The emu replied
"Good! You Bonnie, me Clyde"
"Let us rob this here old boring zooo!"
There once was a golden-brown beer
That brought many pub crawlers good cheer
but at Earls Court
Always asked for "Red Port"
And was rightly chucked out on 'is ear.
Myself, I prefer a nice pinot
Or a cool Andalucian fino
But if push comes to shove
I've an illicit love
For pretty much any cheap vino.
Ha - v neat!
What Mr or Ms Bystander just said. That was excellent.

Life is too short for bad wine
Though having said that I'll opine [c,S,C,I,P] Stellar!
That even the worst
Will extinguish your thirst ...ugh...
And too much will rend you supine
I lie on my back and I think
Oh why did I have that last drink?
As my gut starts to churn
And my face starts to gurn
I quickly head for the sink
The porcelain throne I now face
Which my arsehole's about to deface One for you, Phil.
Both ends will soon spew
My message to you
While myself, I disgrace.
A topic of general bad taste
Is likely to get you maced
A sense of decorum
In this here forum
Behave - or forever be chased ...
I just splashed out on some new bedding
Where my bride will lay after our wedding
I hope she likes neon
'Cos it must be an aeon (irach) Is lay transitive? If so, who is the layee? The bridgegroom, presumably. If intransitive is she a chicken, great in egg? Did you mean lie?.
And put her in the mood for clothes shedding.
[Rosie]lay (lâ) transitive verb , (Slang) to have sexual intercourse with. ("Layee" works both ways, it's not just the groom's prerogative - ever heard of "woman on top", or do you think just "missionary"?
As I climbed to the top of the tower
I saw just out of reach, a small flower
With petals petite
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