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The Obligatory Limericks Game
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When the Crescenters arrive at Rab...
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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
Our bookmarks are updated
Download time truncated
We're finally off that Bluecurve-r.
D'oh! Forgot the bold!
DrQu+xum is a forgetful chap
That's why he suffered this mishap:
He left out a tag
But tags aren't my bag (qua pantsmc)
He'll get it right next time, mayhap.
Ignore not the rules of scansion
Whether trochees, iambs or dipthong
When being quiet anal
When being quite anal obviously, although quiet anal possibly deserves some examination as a concept
Complaints are morainal (OK, I used Rhymezone to find that one.)
So fill out your lines with aplomb.
A game of Celebrity Shares
Will attract the bulls and the bears
The trading is brisk [a gift of a rhyming opportunity]
But better not risk
All your assets. (But frankly - who cares?)
While walking to work in the rain
I danced as I felt quite insane
[Bifurcating]I felt like Gene Kelly/I jumped in a puddle
(as opposed to George Melly) / found a stranger to cuddle
And sang out THAT well-known refrain / Then suggested acts base and profane [oo-er]
The day you install a new bath
Should be marked by drinking a swift half,
But - beer or bathwater?
Should I drink? Well I oughtta - weren't expecting that eh?
Before I go down the bath path
To make the best beef and veg. stew,
First kill your cow. Then take two
Bushels of sweet potatoes
Fry them on a hotplate, close
The oven, wait, serve, spear and chew - I like the creative scansion going on here!
I once met a young plain-clothes nun
Disguised as Attila The Hun
Yet I (to my shame)
Thought she was on the game
Now Attila the Nun's on the run!
I got caught out today in the rain
With an outcome of very great pain
I was poked in the eye
And was told "Get me dry!"
By the great and irate Michael Caine
I wonder where porcupines sleep?
On cliffs? In a cave? In the deep?
Laying still and supine
(All their quills must align)
Else the prickles will tickle their feet.
Be careful when you knock on doors
Especially in the Azores
You just never know
You'll find on the loo
P'raps Andrea or Jim from The Corrs... some well dodgy rhyming going on there!
Do the light bulbs need changing in here?
Who'll do it? And what's their career?
The task is quite tricky
The end might be sticky
Let's just put it off till next year.
Awww... and I thought someone would pick up on my feed line re: How many (people of a particular walk of life) does it take to change a lightbulb?
Uncle Korky is feeling let down [mea culpa]
And Chalky a bit of a clown
Our lim'ricks lack wit
Our rhyming is crap
So it's good that our scansion is sound
Penance complete! Further self-flagellation not required! :-)
Take a deep breath, and let yourself go
down to London on a very slow
train, that breaks down
In a Devonshire town
Just south of Westward Ho
Now, not wishing to come over all Westcountry on you... I believe Mr Ho is in Somerset, not Devon...
Not that that need preclude somewhere lying just south of that. And in any case if moi geographee be nart in the roight koinda areahh, there's definartlee one ah them thassavam exclumashion markie jarbies afer 'Ho'. Oh God I wish I hadn't grown up in Carrrnwalll...
Westward Ho! is indeed in North Devon. The main failing in the above the the absence of a railway line in the area Ho! Hum!
Calamity! Apologies for the drunken outpourings. That'll learn me.
Let's draw the line under that then :-)
Geographical know-how is fine [but....]
But where would you all like to dine?
I know a good spot
Where it won't cost a lot
Though I hope you enjoy drinking brine
I got lost on my way in to work
My boss will think I'm on the shirk
But my caravanette
Is slippy and wet
I went tits-up and felt a right berk
That evening, I felt a right tit
It was soft, warm and round, though a bit
droopy, although
I would like to know
Which girl was the owner of it.
Some men have remarkable breasts [hmmm . . must be open season on lewd sauciness - PantsMC is similarly obsessed. I blame Darren]
Which show when the geezers wear vests [I don't think I'm particularly lewd or saucy. Not compared to most other people, anyway. In what way should the lewdness and sauciness be curtailed? Any suggestions?]
You're not. T'was a joke.
Such pendulous mounds [Nowt wrong with a touch of sauciness. It all depends on where the line that shouldn't be crossed lies, and that everyone is in agreement with it]
Should be hid, on the grounds
Of upsetting our VIP guests
They say we're all getting obese
But really we're just wearing fleece
On our stag nights we leap
right into the heap...
of roast lamb laced with oodles of grease.
The heat is still on Tony Blair
And his lying colleague Alistair
Now that wasn't quite true
What they claimed they could do
But at least they both tried, for a dare.
Forgive me - for asking you this . . .
Can you hold this while I have a p*ss
it is nothing rude!
although slightly chewed
But beware, it's a mess when I miss.
Whenever you start a new day
Take a deep breath and yell, "Hip Hooray!"
Then take off your pants
Check your recent implants
And your morals will then go astray
I lay myself down now to sleep
On this couch that I found going cheap
But the springs aren't quite right
I'll be up most the night
Installing the ones from my jeep
At lunchtimes, I eat quite a lot
from the buffet - both cold food and hot
My mid-afternoon snack
Matches my brown anorak
Which I flash in, more often than not.
I noticed, whilst having a shower,
That I'd developed my own super power
"Eureka," I cried
As I started to slide . . .oo-er
On the soap for at least half an hour
"She said she was nineteen, yer honour
If I'd known, I would not have lain on her
And bumped up and down (very highbrow!)
And spun round and round
It was later I knew t'was Madonna
It's a 'rollover' weekend again
And so I shall be stripping for men
And then let them grope
In the misguided hope
*with a great effort of will, resists temptation to post line ending in "pen"*
That their fumblings'll score ten out of ten. [CdM - am assuming that the above isn't line 5]
The outcome is certain, that's true [CdM] You're too kind :o)
A bed made especially for two Ooer, missus
With a whip and a rope I'm in a funny mood..;)
Plus some carbolic soap [snorgle :-)]
And a drop of the best superglue.
If you wear a hat, you should know
That it brings you nothing but woe
For when the wind blows
From your head off it throws
Thereby leaving your bald patch on show.
Whilst driving a red Kia Pride
I found a dead body inside
It stank to high heaven
So I drove down to Devon
Where 'twas easier than Oxford to hide.
I do hope that I am not overstepping the line
Oh no! I've done it again!
I've been caught 'below decks' with a WReN
She gave her consent
When our passion was spent
To reveal all I knew to the men.
In an effort to be more appealing
I have plastered myself to the ceiling
From this lofty abode
O'er the family Spode
I would welcome a cup of darjeeling [very Lewis Carroll]
All above - muddy rarvellous!
A mishap while I hoovered the floor
Caused the hoover to suck up the door
The windows and walls
and even my smalls
not to mention my Greenwing Macaw
It's rainy and windy and wet well in Cardiff, anyway, and I'm going to damn well make you all suffer as well!
No respite from that curry, as yet Terrible thing, IBS...
I can still smell the sauce
'Cos I'm farting in Morse sorry people - Uncle K's fault :-)
So best dash, Dot, in case it should set
They say that it's rude to stare
But I really don't care
Also, I smell
Like the cesspits of Hell
'Cause I bathed in yak's milk for a dare [Darren - that's your second smelly third line!]
I suffer from awful BO
You'll smell it wherever I go [That's my third!]
My pox scabs are rotting [Darren - shame - I was feeding you a third line and we simulposted]
And my groin is hotting [Hint: up]
up by the hour, it's gonna blow!! [rab - hint taken, v subtly done :-)]
I cannot believe it's not butter
is not easy to say with a stutter
So I'll spread it with jam
Or bake it with ham
Or beat it at golf with a putter.
I appear to be missing a ball
Said Adolph Hitler, to us all
I'll take one of Goering's
Cute spherical nose-rings
And clip it to Eva Braun's shawl.
I don't like the way that it sounds
When love-making strays out of bounds
And I'm in the next room
On top of a broom
But at least for divorce I have grounds
I'm a hundred and twenty today!
So unless I drop dead
Oh dear - taking rudeness to faint new depths...*Don't I deserve head?*
Before I waste slowly away [Don't be coy, pen - I'm sure we were all thinking the same :-)]
Nothing wrong with a bit of bawdiness.
That's not a limerick line, btw
Now bawdiness just ain't my style lies, lies and more lies ;o)
We'll leave that to Chalky and Kayl
They prefer, so it's said,
To say this instead:
"I love how you shunt as I strile" (Have I had Kayl's pronounciation wrong all this time - i took it to rhyme with shale...? No criticism intended, just curious!)
[blamelewis] I was never too sure, myself, but decided that Kayl is the only MC player I could think of whose name might rhyme, so I used a bit of limeretic licence. And are you telling me your name isn't pronounced bla-melloo-iss?

It's high time that I wrote a first line

You did a good job - that one's fine!
The next one is bad
The fourth one is trad
And this last? Just call it asinine!
Today I must trim all my warts
So I can look good in my shorts
The one on my heel
Is starting to feel
Like the ball from a basketball court.
I come back to England tonight Really! First lot of Fish n' Chips for 4 months! Can't wait!
Proving that I'm not that bright
What's more, I will wear
The pelt of a bear
And thus be a nightmarish sight Sorry to do 3rd and 5th, but this one had lain around for far too long
just an observation - limericks that begin with an 'actual' first-person experience are always tricky to follow . . .
Whenever the clock chimes, I wonder
Which cities I'll ravish and plunder
For at 12.59,
I think its the time,
To steal, pillage and wrent asunder
It's a hundred degrees in the shade
And commuters' tempers are frayed
For instant relief
Penelope Keith
Is free, in the Penny arcade.
When Valéry Giscard d'Estaing
Goes out to buy six petits pains
There's not enough argent
To feed him and his sergeant Pronunciation? What's that then?
Aujourdhui et demain au matin.
My legs have just melted away
With my third hit of acid today
A purple giraffe
Has invaded my gaff
Which I wasn't expecting 'til May
I've married my step-son's third cousin
Tongues are wagging nineteen to the dozen
The consanguintee
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