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The Obligatory Limericks Game
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When the Crescenters arrive at Rab...
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Ended up being seized by the Swiss
The Americas Cup
And the chance to throw up!
Hang on. Are you taking the p*ss?
/ Jeez - that sure made limer-sense. Ah well - onwards and upwards ...
Chalky - Whilst cooking in loco parentis
(Mom*ma had gone off to the dentist)
I put on the gas
And shook my yas-yas (obscure 1930s southern US slang declared)
And proved I was non compas mentis.
[Tina] Good call.!
I sit in my nice padded cell
And giggle, as I ring my bell
But the imps and the pixies
Try to tell me that six is
Seven, and eight is aswell
I know how to carbonate tea
And how to select the best Brie
But what's got me stumped
is how come I got dumped
And why she picked a she over me
While eating a plateful of turkey.
Along with some bits of old jerky
I started to wonder
About having a chunder
and that's why the fish tank's all murky.
For Christmas I want in my stocking
A hoist, to facilitate docking
Though the fit may be tight,
It will be all right
bah! simulpost My prospects just might [forcing bifurcatory dénouement]
[Thos] I'll slide it in with careful rocking. [Chalky] Avoid the scene getting too shocking.
Bifurcation can be very tricky
And if you're not careful, quite sticky.
But if one can reverse
In a Mercedes hearse
One can refurcate in Billericay.
Dear Santa, I'd like a new hearse Stealing pen's hearse theme as I like it! (hope you don't mind!)
'Cause my death wish is getting much worse
If you can't manage that
I'll just bury the cat
And then, when it's dead, write a verse.
I read in the papers today
Mutant Llamas are heading our way!
So let's board up our houses
And gird up our trousis oblig.
Fall to our knees and just pray
The only way to success
In this game we call "Mornington Cresc.",
Is so closely guarded
Because it's bombarded
By the bloodsucking hounds of the Press.
Out bowling with old Tony Blair,
I stamped on his foot for a dare
He said "Listen, mush"
Nobody but Bush (a gift)
Ever gets to touch me just there! Oh, the satire of it all.
I ache for the touch of your lips (dear)
But much more for some good fish and chips (sorry)
smothered in salt
and vinegar malt
rubbed in wounds that are left by your whips. accepting Kim's invitation
I stimulate this piece of dough
I'm podgy, lethargic and slow this is only verse, you understand...
And so when I stroke More "t" in simulate, Vicar?
The fat, stodgy bloke Try and keep this clean please?
I'm confident nothing will grow I did my best...
When eating a bucket of rice
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