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The Obligatory Limericks Game
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When the Crescenters arrive at Rab...
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Par exemple, rupettes
Ou une bite à baguette
c'est chouette, quand nous faisons ceci. [rosie] what can I say, j'suis geeque.
The last one was lost in translation
No great loss (francophile masturbation)
When language gets screwed
And poets are lewd
We'll just leave to play Bifurcation.
Please start without me, I'm on leave/There once was a Lim'rick for sale
{And I've something that's hid up my sleeve / There's no chance of a sudden reprieve } / { Which came with a free pint of ale / Which was rather too old and too stale }
{Is this a dagger?; I'll produce it when/I'm doomed to remain; For fourty-eight hours}
{And a packet of nuts; It was Ruddles' best/The old man from Dover; Fresh blood was required}
Please start without me, I'm on leave
        And I've something that's hid up my sleeve
                Is this a dagger?
                        Or far Wagga-Wagga
                        Or an old Eton fagger
                I'll produce it when
                        I'm a master of Zen
                        The time's right, and then
        There's no chance of a sudden reprieve
                I'm doomed to remain
                        On this long-delayed plane
                        On a far darkling plain
                For fourty-eight hours
                        I must grade all these flours
                        I shall drink whiskey sours
There once was a Lim'rick for sale
        Which came with a free pint of ale
                And a packet of nuts
                        With a taste of goat butts
                        And some choice sirloin cuts
                It was Ruddles' best
                        Called Old Everquest
                        And stank of birds' nests
        Which was rather too old and too stale
                The old man from Dover
                        Who smuggled it over
                        Said "I'm glad it's over"
                Fresh blood was required
                        To make it inspired
                        To set it on fire

I'll have a go at the first one:

Please start without me, I'm on leave
And I've something that's hid up my sleeve
Is this a dagger?
Or far Wagga-Wagga
It's neither [or so I believe]
Left over from last New Year's Eve?

Please start without me, I'm on leave
And I've something that's hid up my sleeve
Is this a dagger?
Or an old Eton fagger
If so, then I must be naïve
Applying some fresh Ibuleve®?

Please start without me, I'm on leave
And I've something that's hid up my sleeve
I'll produce it when
I'm a master of Zen
And then, only then will retrieve
A state which is hard to achieve.

Please start without me, I'm on leave
And I've something that's hid up my sleeve
I'll produce it when
The time's right, and then
My state of mind you will perceive
You'll see why my name isn't Steve

Please start without me, I'm on leave
There's no chance of a sudden reprieve
I'm doomed to remain
On this long-delayed plane
Feeling sick with a strong urge to heave
With a cousin of Christopher Reeve

Please start without me, I'm on leave
There's no chance of a sudden reprieve
I'm doomed to remain
On a far darkling plain
With only this basket to weave
With piles of old timber to cleave.

Please start without me, I'm on leave
There's no chance of a sudden reprieve
For fourty-eight hours
I must grade all these flours
Amongst those who pillage and thieve
After which, a sponge cake I'll receive

Please start without me, I'm on leave
There's no chance of a sudden reprieve
For fourty-eight hours
I shall drink whiskey sours
It's by far the best way I can grieve.
At this rate I'll never conceive

I see no-one has yet attempted the second mighty-furcation - The Lim'rick for sale one...
Yesterday - it took me quite a long time to find 16 viable rhymes for the Please start without me one, and as I didn't want to hog the whole thing ... I stopped there. Anyone up for it?
[Chalks] A whole morning, and nobody has dared reply... Whaddyawannadoo?
Chalky] Go for it.

OK - here's part two:

There once was a Lim'rick for sale
Which came with a free pint of ale
And a packet of nuts
With a taste of goat butts
No kidding - just try and inhale!
And seventeen newly plucked quail

There once was a Lim'rick for sale
Which came with a free pint of ale
And a packet of nuts
And some choice sirloin cuts
Just right for the discerning male
A feast of gargantuan scale!

There once was a Lim'rick for sale
Which came with a free pint of ale
It was Ruddles' best
Called Old Everquest
So called 'coz it's beer's holy grail
Available only by mail

There once was a Lim'rick for sale
Which came with a free pint of ale
It was Ruddles' best
And stank of birds' nests
When newly blown down in a gale
But tasted of rancid ox tail

There once was a Lim'rick for sale
Which was rather too old and too stale
The old man from Dover
Who smuggled it over
Went straight to her majesty's jail
Dropped dead from a surfeit of kale

There once was a Lim'rick for sale
Which was rather too old and too stale
The old man from Dover
Said "I'm glad it's over"
"The new version I'll now unveil"
"The rhyme pattern WAS rather frail."

There once was a Lim'rick for sale
Which was rather too old and too stale
Fresh blood was required
To make it inspired
It's now reading Language at Yale
To be a nonsensical tale

There once was a Lim'rick for sale
Which was rather too old and too stale
Fresh blood was required
To set it on fire
And fresh words for comic detail
And give it that sting in the tail

*phew*


*creates a thunderous round of applause*
*gapes in awe. actually in bath, not awe, but you get the idea*
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