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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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A magical dragon called Puff
Decided enough was enuff
He fired all his guns
At those uppity Huns
And flounced off in a fiery hot huff
While passing a black hole one day
My loo paper floated away
With much consternation Unfinished sentence alert
I watched the space station
Wipe its bum. Disgraceful, I say. unfinished business alert
Those stars are astronaut pee
No doubt - just take it from me
And what's more, I know
The northern light show
Is a bloke with a torch - tee-hee!
When my head hits the pillow, I sleep.
And when I cut onions, I weep
But when I play chess
I feel more or less
Like a nerd. (I'm a bit of a creep).
When Alpha Go met with Deep Mind
They squabbled. Two of a kind
The point of contention
—The Stayman Convention
Hidden textYes, poor form to post two lines, but I’m taken with the idea of the best chess and go machines arguing about bridge
Meant both in short order resigned
My Hide and Seek-playing AI
MI5 want to use as a spy
For they had expected
To snoop undetected
At bodies that come through the rye
[trad] A young lady from Burnham on Sea
Had to stop the bus for a wee
By the time she was done
We were all making fun
Was the bus number 1, 2 or...3?
When you notice that things won't work out
Don't worry; just give it a clout works with steam engines
If that don't do it
(Can you make it, "If that doesn't do it"? Ta)
Well, then you can screw it
And shove right back up the spout
A young fellow from Burnham on Crouch In the interest of gender equality
Was a big fan of Oscar the Grouch
Whose non-binary stance
Gave a one-legged dance
To that beanpole Peter Crouch. Ouch!
I have just one thing to declare
My genius — you may laugh — I don't care!
Cos you won’t laugh when
Trump is POTUS again
And leaves the world in despair
The world just got darker, I fear
It shall darken yet more, year by year.
The sun will go out
The last Trump will shout
No more voting - I'm here!
Perhaps one fine day I will learn
A way to do a great gurn
I shall bite my own nose
While reciting some prose
As I tell the jury to adjourn.
This curly old wig's a right pain
I need a new straight one, that's plain
Slap-head, that's me
But you have to agree
That it covers my cranial stain
For the antepenultimate time,
I seek postinceptory rhyme
A preposterous demand
Which I cannot stand
Will I soon have to do this in mime?
My mum can't remember things now.
Sadly, she's lost her know-how
She's now ninety-eight
Thinks that she's Johnny Speight
So shouts silly old moo to my cow
I've a craving for pickle with Spam
With some be-boppa-lu-a-whop-bam
But McDonald's has stuck it
In the janitor's bucket
So bring on Le Filet O'Lamb
If you're stuck on the M25
Give thanks that at least you’re alive
Four lanes of pollution
(There's an electric solution)
With no guarantee you'll arrive.
Eight more months, then a chance to be free
From the curse of the Witch of Tiree
This anticipation
Has gripped our proud nation
Except for one guy in Dundee
When death, plague, and war rule the land
We’ll take stock, take up arms, take a stand
And then take the piss
Something like this
By forming a naff one-man band
You cannot go on like this, mate
You’ve got far too much on your plate
Inadequate crockery
Will spoil your fine frockery
That's one way to ruin a date.
Please look after your own mental health!
Or madness will grab you with stealth
Try a dip in the sea
Or a Sudoku spree
You'll feel much better after a twelfth
And now, for the worst of the snows
And the shiniest ruddy red nose
As you home, with the gifts
Sourced from dumpsters and thrifts
The swizzle-stick’s mine, I suppose?
Blue Monday approaches apace
T'will match the hue of my face
And other parts too
Shall I show them to you?
I will do so with exquisite grace.
In Port Talbot, on Fridays, 'tis said
You can shag or avoid or get wed
'Cos down on the dock
In an old toilet block
Is where the priest rests his head.
A young lady from Kingston-on-Hull trad
Dressed up as a boatman from Mull
Gave lifts 'cross the river
For which men would give 'er
The fare. (This limerick’s dull.)
The rain it falleth in torrents
It's even raining in Florence
Away with these clouds!
And off with these shrouds!
Let's put on a ball — who's for correntes?
While waiting my turn at the bar
In the back of my gas-guzzling car
I came up with a plan
for attracting a man
Although really, it did go too far
In the forests of far Khalahand
I tuned up my old baby grand
And gave them some Liszt
As the bushmasters hissed
We're thinking of forming a band
So we'll go no more roving, it seems      Thanks, Rab
Brexit has clipp-ed our wings
My passport's expired
And I'm ever so tired
But at least we can still feel like kings
It took me aback and away
When a bright, happy sun rose today
Will things improve
Or will nature remove
What it's given, as is nature's way?
There was an old man from West Ealing trad
Whose todger got stuck to the ceiling trad
He reached for his chisel mad
which loosened the pizzle
And now it's replastered, it's healing
(apologies but the lines appeared fully-formed to me in blazing letters on my trousers)
I suppose now it's time to contrive
(as we wait for the cops to arrive) [Projoy] The muse strikes in mysterious and flammable ways... good stuff...
A sound alibi
As we fail to comply
With the Online Safety Act's drive.
This Limerick's not what it seems...
For the online safety act deems
Want to play? Online Crescenteering lives on at Discord