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The Obligatory Limericks Game
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When the Crescenters arrive at Rab...
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Get hold of a quarter, one could?
Whatever that means
In hot fever dreams
Be a fraction more to the good
When faced with a barrage of lies
And attempts to pull wool o'er my eyes
I'll start screaming, in Welsh
And then loudly belch
"Mae hi wedi cachi arna i"s!"
The languages spoken in Wales
, As one pulls from ones eyes certain scales,
Seem quite out of tune
With 'Au Clair de la Lune
Though singing when telling Welch tales
His name was Llywelyn the Last
And he spoke in Welsh - very fast
His demise, it was gory
But it made a great story
With choruses sung by the cast.
His last name, 'tis true, was Llewellyn
He was known as a renegade felon
'though Polish by birth
he lived on Welsh earth
Ball kicking, but loves honey melon (o)(o) ! Gareth or Chris Llewellyn?
She played with his balls every night ...new ball game...?
Even tho' her interest was slight
But she found that the perks
Of sleeping with berks
Made playing with balls quite all right.
The sock hops I hold in my shed
Has made all my neighbours see red
There's blood up the walls
and stains on my balls!
Next time I will make them co-ed
He was told by his dear Uncle Andy:
"My boy, I am feeling quite randy"
He ran off with a cry
When I bit his thigh
Cause he feared I was after his candy.
In search of a drink alcoholic
To make my pet terrapin frolic
I chancéd upon
Spiked tea from Ceylon
For which all claims are quite hyperbolic. Worth a try, though, I'm sure. :-) (Chalky) V. classy!
These stories are utterly false
I’ve heard from the rear of the horse false rhyme warning!
They're a load of manure (Marc) Yeah, difficult, but there is a rhyme for "false", which I'm saving for line 5, unless someone else gets there first.
And their rhythm unsure though somewhat dancing, Rosie?
It sounds like a hesitant waltz.
The night-clubs of old Budapest (anonymouse, Darren) through which flows the Blue Danube, of course.:-)
Won't let anyone in in a vest
The dress code's so strict
And guests are handpicked
But once in, you can then get undressed.
The most famous thing about York (that last one was great!)
Was his monstrous penchant for 'pork' (Prince Andrew, Duke of York, and whichever form of pork you fancy)
But he fell on his sword
Whene'er he was bored
And then stabbed his fat rear with a fork
One morning they'd breakfast in bed,
The next they would play being dead
On the third, they'd be silly
By smearing hot chili
all over, including his head. Hot stuff!
There once was a woman who wrote:
"You can't beat good sex with a goat.
"The foreplay's not great,
But the horn is first rate
(Hang on while I go get my coat)
although there were a few inviting alternative rhymes if anyone wants to take another shot at that line...
A dancer named Lionel Blair
Had a secret and torrid affair
With Samantha and Sven
And Bills randy Ben
It broke up 'cos they wouldn't share
There once was a dwarf named Bertie
Whose thoughts was not great, mere dirty
His grammar was poor
His mind so impure ;-)
Girls puked when he tried to get flirty
I've found, by experimenting
That good beer is made by fermenting
hops and pork chops,
Old, used heads of mops
but I did work for Watneys. (Repenting).
Barkeep! A pint of Red Barrel! [T,K,T,s,R] Excellent.
For my hot new date, Colin Farrell! ;o)
Make that four pints for me, ...it's monday morn...
(That'll sure make me wee!)
And some waterproof under-apparel
Would my underwear put out a fire?
Said Marion to Tuck, the Gray Friar,
My incontinence pants
Are alive with red ants
And held up with telephone wire
A Telephone Line...
Whilst sitting in a nest of red ants
He hoped she would take off her pants
But her circumspection
Killed off his erection
And put paid to to her hopes for infants
Bravo all above!
An odd-looking cowgirl named Wendy
Had legs that wer 'specially bendy (don't fight it)
Astride a large horse
She performed intercourse
With a cowboy undressed very trendy.
There once was a horse in the nude
Who lived in a field near to Bude
He frolicked all day
In a meadow of hay
Tap dancing all day in good mood. ( "In the Mood"? http://www.budejazzfestival.co.uk/ )
The stompers are grouping in Bude,
The stompers are grouping in Bude,..sorry, my mind was already there...
The things they are doing are lewd
with a muted trombone
and an old mobile 'phone
It's a wonder they've never been sued
I’m off for vacation today
Meaning all of you should say 'Hooray'
Cause we’re free to work hard
With little regard ... just who is writing this lim now? you? me? all of you? we? they?
For what pointy-haired bosses might say.
I've just had a bitch of a day (I'm sorry, but I really have....)
So please, someone, lead me astray
I yearn to be kinky
SLip into something slinky
and bang away on my Bishop, okay!!.
The Bishop looked down and then said:
Just what is that lying in my bed?
The actress replied
"It can't be denied,"
"Now put your mitre back onto your head."
”Your Holiness this is too much!" ...interesting subject...?
"I'm trying to watch Starsky & Hutch"
"Your bishop, you bash it"
"It's mine, it's an asset!"
"Just keep it away from my crutch!"
He raised his finger and said
"This digit is made out of bread"
"If you're sceptical, suck it"
I did, then threw up in a bucket
And that's how I ended up dead. Obligatory really!
She greased him in balm of Gilead
Then nibbled his earlobes indeed
But the cedars of Lebanon "eed"?
Rose 'round them both,(skip beat) tall and strong "But the cedars of Lebanon" ?
To climb them would need all the will 'e 'ad It rhymes. It scans, more or less.
One reason for hiding in cedars
Seems to have escaped Guardian readers ... well rescued Rosie
But the Times' editorial Inviting obvious rhyme
Is more lavatorial hook, line & sinker
With paper so soft, quoting our leaders. ..imagine Tony Blair on the loo…
As a limerick line this isn't particularly good
But who says it has to scan all the time Dude
There once was a sweet little nun Sorry st dog, trying at the best of my ability. What about you?
Gorged herself on a HUGE sticky bun i am just trying, marc.
Her wimple exploded
Her corsets eroded
For penance, ten thousand "Hail Mary's", now run.
This flattery might turn my head
Keep on and my face will turn red ...from choking?
I'd rather you went
To a Chinaman's tent
And screw up all the sheets in his bed Turning heads and screwing, ...it’s not Friday yet!
Last year was the year of the whores ...as the Chinaman said...
I can tell you, that opened some doors
Of brothels, mayhap?
(For some lucky chap)
Who tasted temptation live ne'er before
There once was a girl in Hong Kong
Who rode on her (w)horse all night long ..obligatory...?
When daytime would break,
Her backside would ache
Because she'd been riding all wrong.
What sort of riding was she doing? ...coat time I think...
What sort of verse are you pursuing?
It's not quite a limerick
Never mind, we'll give it a lick
And know good writing we're eschewing.
Cheese is nice but it can smell quite bad....
Like the Black-Belted Stilton I once had…
It walked to my plate
Its blue eyes filled with hate
And said, "You're a terrible cad."
A penguin can make a good pet
Except that it won't see the vet
Appetite voracious Cost you a bomb in fish.
Oh yes, goodness gracious
The shit will cause trouble you bet!
Her penguin loved drinks ‘on the rocks’
And quaffed them, in slippers and socks
He liked, more than most,
Champagne, and would toast
Antarctica! a land he now mocks.
There once was a Boxer named Stu
Who’d swept many floors, quite a few
He polished and scrubbed
So much, he was dubbed
And then swept ‘cross the floor by Baloo http://www.njboxinghof.org/cgi-bin/henryseehof.pl?73
there once was a mailbox quite red
Its owner was someone who said:
"Penny stamps cost a pound,"
"there's inflation around,"
I'll just send an email instead
Sorry! :(
Once a copper with a huge scabby nose
Danced the Tango with a lass with no clothes
Said the lass to the copper,
Treat me nice... but improper,
And I'll lend you my best pantie-hose.
Is it proper to finish and start?
Is it right to set fire to a fart?
Done both in my time
But now, in my prime,
I'll just sit and tuck into this tart
This tart tastes awful you know.
But it's good enough in a face to throw....?
It's messed up my grammar
P-plays havoc w-with my st-stammer
And makes terrible rumblings below.
Give me ALL of your chocolate cake
Or I'll poke out your eyes with this stake
It may sound extreme
That I love cake and cream
And use violence to get what I take.
The charm of the Icelandic sagas
are great but they drive me Banana's
Think of Noggin the Nog
Or Hoggin the Hog? (never ‘eard of ‘im though)
While you sit eating cod round your agas
Widey... 'Bananas' to rhyme with 'Sagas'??? AND witha greengrocer's apostrophe? Come ON!! And Bigsmith - if you ain't heard of it and had to invent it, why put it in? There was lots of opportunity for a realistic and genuine rhyme there. Pffft. It's obvious I have Quality Issues but I'll get off my high horse now. By the way - did you know the Icelandic grow their own bananas and mangos in glasshouses on the SW coast, heated by geothermal springs?
Wha'd'I do?!
She teasingly said with a smile: hi penelope and thanks, 'making waves' will hopefully help us all lifting ourselves to a higher level (if possible ;-)
"What you're doing is utterly vile" I think Penelope meant to chide Marc rather than Bigsmith. However, "bananas" (correctly punctuated) is in my opinion a perfect rhyme for both "sagas" and "agas", unless you're American.
"Please put it away"
"Without further delay"
"For its size, it just isn't worthwhile!"
A Lim'rick without any chat
Is better than chewing the fat
But the temptation's there [pen] So that's just one greengrocer then... Apostrophes aren't easy to use flippantly!
To leave the line bare [Tuj] I don't like to prostitute myself around several greengrocers, doncha know!!
But everyone frowns upon that [pen] Come and see how the other half live our lives...
Whilst waiting for water to boil,
after a very long day of toil
We just sit by the fire
Planning soon to retire
To a bath with some lavender oil.
It is better not to discuss
The state of Anne Widdecombe's truss
or John Prescott's pants
or Tony Blair's stance
Or the route of the 43 bus.
'Tis thrice thrice thrice thrice thirty days
Since I last made her eyes go all glazed
When I put the pear
In the orifice where
There's a gap in the midst of her stays
When I go digging in the road
If lucky, sometimes I find a toad (?)
Who teaches me scansion
and limerick tension
But rhyme is too hard to be know'd.
The story of the Piltdown Man
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