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The Obligatory Limericks Game
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When the Crescenters arrive at Rab...
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And therefore he missed his first date[pen et al] my ‘drawing’ was supposed to resemble a man with wide opened eyes watching the Women’s final of the tennis game the other day and not a pair of tits as your imagination may have fooled you to believe. Have a nice day! [Chalky]Nice line you submitted the other day at the game Multiple Lines Per Player: “By giving her one 'gainst the wall”, but beware, pen may spot it and accuse you for being a “stupid sexist rubbish” publisher!
His hair-spring had sprung (Marc) Eyes? Bollocks! They're tits. You're in a hole - stop digging. And crawling.
The alarm had not rung
And his young lady friend wouldn't wait.
"Just whom do you think that you're kidding?"
Said seller to buyer when bidding
"This is a Titian . . . . hanging quotes
No way it's Mauritian"
.. why the long pause I wonder ..
So the deal to a quick halt came skidding. .. dodgy last line in order to move swiftly on
Chalky - I'm insuring my knees to the hilt
And my hips, though of Kevlar they're built
My ribs are of steel
(plus titanium heel)
And my false teeth- they're loaded with gilt
With 2 grams of flucloxacillin
You could wipe out all Enniskillen
All germs, bugs and cattle
You'd hear their death rattle
That's how you make a great killin'
Relaxing one day in the bath,
With a volume of Sylvia Plath
My bathing-mate's clowning
Pretending she’s drowning
What GSOH this girl hath.
I nipped into my bookies one day
And bet that Boy George wasn't gay
At eighty to one
I'd say I'd been done
But it turned out he wasn't - hooray! (in another universe.)
A funny lot, those London Loopers (It goes past my house).
Filled with tourists and some hula-hoopers
They circle the streets
They nibble their eats 1st + 4th is OK, I think.
As they stare at the guard-changing troopers
The Bishop of Bath and Wells Not everyone, it seems, knows what the London Loop is. It's a sort of M25 for walkers, and about as fast.
Never learned to control his bad smells (adding an xtra syllable for Rosie ;-)
His underarm pong
Made his churchgoing cong- (unfinished word alert)
-regation avoid waving farewells
The Bishops of Wells and of Bath
Forget that, not many rhymes for "bath".
The Bishop of Wells-next-the=Sea
Had a flock of just twenty and three
They worshipped their Bish
And sacrificed fish
Which after they ate for their tea
Archbishops, as rare as they are,
Are given free drinks at the bar
But Cardinals pay
For their fine Chardonnay
And prostrate themselves for a Budvar
An eparch, a breed rarer still,
Writes all his decrees with a quill
His face becomes stern
(But not quite a gurn)
When his inkpot requires a refill.
A lobster, a crab and an eel
Disputed who best danced a reel
They chose, as a judge,
Mister Barnaby Rudge
For whom 'twas a mighty ordeal.
Cor Blimey, I ne'er saw the like
It's three hairy men on a bike!
A trick such as that
Performed with eclat
Just bowls me right off of my trike.
We listen; we keep a straight face
As Bush pronounces "nuclear race"
But we can't hide a grin
At George's chagrin
When, mid-sentence, he loses his place
There once was a writer from Wrab
Who wrote of lives dreary and drab
These sorry commuters
On sorrier scooters
Since long they had left in a cab....
There was an old man from Nantucket
With no worldly goods but a bucket
At the bottom of which
Lay a kitten, named Titch,
People gaped at how far he could chuck it.
Do I win £5 for not finishing with "f*ck it"?
*splutters tea into her keypad*
While wand'ring around B & Q (ISP) Only if you can prove that you would not have used that asterisk.
I searched high and low for a screw
Just one, on its own
Or two-- one to loan--
But multipacks is all that they do. Bloody irritating. In the old days, one could go to the local ironmonger, but they have all gone to the wall. Grumble, moan.....
I grumble and moan and complain
That my wife is the cause of my pain
But her skill at defining
My incessant whining
Is proof that she has half a brain
Half a brain is better than none
Why just ask a zombie, my son
Why not ask Tony Blair
He's the brain of a hare
And Mad Hatter all rolled into one
“Hey you, please get up and get dressed,”
Called chef to a bare turkey breast
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