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The Obligatory Limericks Game
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When the Crescenters arrive at Rab...
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The longer they get [pen] To be fair, I read your opener about 12 times and couldn't get it to fit what I consider a limerick pattern. But as CdM says, we don't want to go down the road of another scansion war (see the York archives for what happens when things get really ugly).
The less well they vet
And it all gets too ugly to mantion </scansion war> <pararhyme war> ...
If you find yourself short of a rhyme
Or your syllables all out of time
Don't panic - just doodle
Or suck on a noodle
Or large Gin with tonic and lime
Hurrah!

When pen's full of derring and do

s'funny, smells more like some poo. sorry Pen...
No, in better light.. unfinished sentence alert
the resemblance to shite
Is this lim'rick. Now what shall we do?
I once had a haddock called frank
That I'd use to give children a spank
The fish didn't mind
Hitting a behind Yes, the maroon windbreaker. Thankye.
cause he laughs all the way to the bank.
"Stop thief!" came the cry from the bank
said the man who was driving a tank
Quite why he should yell
well, no-one could tell
but I suppose we've New Labour to thank
Jonny Ball's a strange man on TV UK TV that is... I first remember him on Playschool.
He said "Think of a number!" to me I always enjoyed his programmes!
In refusing his game I wanted the car off choc-a-block
I was only to blame Johnny Ball is a great man, and it is a tribute to him and to the dire state of contemporary children's TV that he would never make it today, on account of being over 12.
For the subsequent puddle of wee
It doesn't take a genius, you know
to be able to write in the snow continuing the theme
but calligraphy
Whilst having a pee oblig, really.
May result in a word overflow
That President Bush is so smart!
He gave Saddam Hussein quite a LART! LART = Luser Attitude Readjustment Tool, e.g. a sledgehammer.
but Saddam's disappeared,
behind a big beard
And Osama Bin Laden's a tart lame, I know. *shrug*
I'm so sorry, the news isn't good
But we did everything that we could
The defibrilator
was unable to cater
For a heart that was made out of wood
A ride on the night bus to Romford
Is a journey devoid of all comford [Yeah? Yeah? Wanna make something of it?]
You part with your fare
travel as far as you dare
Then leap off and dash home just like Tom would [well - that's what HE told me and I have no reason to doubt him]
On moving to Nik's shiny server
We could scarcely contain our great fervour
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