Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: SALE or SAIL at the end of any one line (Submission Deadline: December 10, 2022)
It’s Limerick-Off time, once again. And that means I write a limerick, and you write your own, using the same rhyme word. Then you post your limerick(s) as a comment to this post and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.
I hope you’ll join me in writing limericks using SALE or SAIL at the end of ANY ONE LINE. (A homonym or homophone not listed here may be used in lieu of the designated rhyme word.)
The best submission will be crowned Limerick-Off Award Winner. Here’s the last contest’s winners list.
Additionally, you may write themed limericks related to GOSSIP, using any rhyme word. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best GOSSIP-related limerick.
And for a THIRD SEPARATE CHALLENGE, I’ve used a “Random Word Generator” to generate five random words. Your challenge is to use AT LEAST TWO of the Random Words anywhere in your limericks.
Here are the FIVE RANDOM WORDS for this contest: CLASS, CATCH, FLASHY, STARE, GAIN.
(You’re free to singularize/pluralize the designated random nouns and to change the tense of the designated random verbs. You can even turn adjectives in adverbs and vice versa. And you are NOT required to use any of them as rhyme words, as long as at least two of the words appear somewhere in your limericks.)
How will your poems be judged? By meter, rhyme, cleverness, and humor. (If you’re feeling a bit fuzzy about limerick writing rules, here’s my How To Write A Limerick article.)
I’ll announce the winners on December 11, 2022, right before I post the next Limerick-Off. So that gives you FOUR full weeks to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday, December 10, 2022 at 4:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my SALE or SAIL-Rhyme Limerick:
Playing Wordle, for me, is a sport,
Though it doesn’t use balls or a court,
And it fails to entail
Racing skills, or a sail.
(I am more of a “sitting down” sort.)
And here’s my GOSSIP-Themed Limerick:
A gal who was known for her chutzpah
Owned a pricey and popular foot spa.
But she gossiped about
Ev’ry foot-fetish lout,
So alas it’s become a kaput spa.
And here is my RANDOM WORD GENERATOR Limerick:
In class, I expelled a loud yawn.
(Its eight o’clock start felt like dawn.)
I stared at the clock
And got caught. Said Prof Locke,
“Bored? Then leave!” In a flash, I was gone.
Please feel free to enter my Limerick-Off by posting your limerick(s) in my comments. And if you’re on Facebook, I hope you’ll join my friends in that same activity on my Facebook Limerick-Off post.
To receive an email alert whenever I post a new Limerick-Off, please email Madkane@MadKane.com Subject: MadKane’s Newsletter. Thanks!
Tags: Competition Limerick, Foot Humor, Games Humor, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Poetry & Prompts, School Humor, Spa Humor, Sports, Wordle, Wordle Humor, Wordle Limerick, Writing Prompts
This “Gossip Club” meets every year.
I must make something perfectly clear:
We MUST dish the dirt,
And not care who gets hurt.
It’s so sad to see everyone’s here
The Mississippi Menopause Bridge Club
I live near the famed Choctaw Ridge.
My friends come each day to play Bridge.
We’ve gained weight and have flashes,
You’ll never hear clashes.
All day long we play Bridge in the fridge.
I put up my body for sale,
and all prospective buyers went “Hail
no to this wreck!
Were we to dissect,
the good parts won’t fill up a pail!”
correction: limerick #1
This “Gossip Club” meets every year.
I need to make something real clear:
We MUST dish the dirt.
And not care who gets hurt.
I’m upset because everyone’s here.
I wish I could find a nice man
Who has class, much like Stan, perhaps Dan.
But my moves never worked.
I was constantly shirked.
Now my Master Plan’s catch-as-catch-can.
I must tell you bout’ Annie McGill.
Spreading gossip’s her one special skill.
Ann tells so many lies.
She should win “The Trump Prize”
Annie works at the old Rumor Mill.
The “Big Lie,” that began as a rumor,
Has grown into a walloping tumor.
So I may have misspoke,
When I said, “What a joke!”
To this farce so devoid of all humor.
Jane gets all dolled-up, thinks she’s classy.
She’s boring, yet tries to be sassy.
Turn your head; do not stare.
She befouls all the air.
Cuz she’s noted for being real gassy.
Some hot shots call “Trash Shop” the pits.
I differ cause everything fits!
Sue, they now have a sale.
Do not fear or get pale.
When you enter, it looks like the Blitz.
Window Shopping
This shop owner truly will fail.
Her merchandise sure makes me wail.
She needs to deep-six
All her outdated picks.
Which will be her complete clearance sale.
My Winning Limerick From 2017
I remember the time I began
Writing lim’riks, with nary a plan.
I had nothing to gain.
And was truly a pain.
I won ONCE with my “Flash In The Pan”
An Irish expatriate male
Yearned for Limerick gals, so set sail
To those faraway shores,
Where he found British whores,
All beyond the proverbial pale.
Where the expression “Beyond the Pale” came from…
Something that’s “beyond the pale” is wild or outrageous. The expression was first used in Ireland way back in the 13th century, to describe people who lived outside the parts of Ireland controlled by the British. Called the Pale, it originally consisted of parts of counties Meath, Louth, Kildare and Dublin in the east of Ireland. The word derives from “palus,” a Latin word meaning “stake.” The Pale had a ditch along its border to keep intruders out. Within the area, the English forbade inter-marriage between native Irish people and English settlers….
(Source: Irishletter .com).
Have you heard the new goss’ about Mad?
It’s all over town, – and so sad.
She’d die if she knew
That we all think it’s true,
But I can’t write it here, it’s so bad!
Behind-the-hand gossip’s no crime, –
I could tell you some now, in this rhyme.
It’s our secret you see,
So, (between you and me),
Don’t tell more than one friend, (at a time!).
Prying quidnuncs persistently wish
To find dirt on their foes, so they fish!
They’re expert consumers
Of bruit, tales, and rumors
That yentas reliably dish.
So you wonder why boys gape and stare
At your ass? Well, it’s practically bare!
Listen: Girls who dress flashy
Get treatment that’s trashy.
Attend to the clothes that you wear!
Those large bags of Tostitos, on sale
For $4.99 rarely fail
To draw in the shoppers
Who also love Whoppers–
Preferring them, greatly, to kale.
When the street walker heard, “Nothing flashy,
For I fear I may catch something rashy,”
She said, “How ’bout a bump, sir,
Against a full dumpster?
It’s for johns who just like to feel trashy.”
Have you heard what they say about whoozit?
It’s for sure that he really did lose it.
It’s no gossip, my dear.
That guy really is queer.
He loves ewe, and he screws it.
When Wotan, the God of Valhalla,
Had a meeting with Yahweh and Allah;
By some it’s been said,
That for lunch they broke bread
With some bratwurst and hummus on challah.
Listen up, I must make this real clear.
I don’t gossip, I just lend an ear.
Though I have to confess
That it’s fun, nonetheless
When somebody asks, “Did you hear?”
Those who gossip can be such a pain.
They’ve no class, and their views are inane.
E.G: Trump’s a good case;
Gossip spews from his face,
Yet he thinks he’ll be Pres’ once again.
Better (for double duty) than previous version.
Those who gossip can be such a pain;
They’ve no class, and have nothing to gain.
E.G: Trump’s a good case:
Gossip spews from his face,
But his street-cred continues to wane.
(All randoms)
A trapeze artist gal with no class,
Gained the stares of the studs in the mass.
Her intent: that they’d catch
A quick flash of her snatch
As she nakedly flew her bare ass.
Reading stickers on cars that I pass,
I catch sight of a slogan with class.
Then a truth I embrace,
Stares me right in the face:
A rear end labeled, “I am an ass.”
Rick Scott’s pitch has just failed to ditch
McConnell (malevolent Mitch).
The GOssiP I see,
within GOP
Helped Mitch trump Trump’s support for the switch.
I certainly wasn’t real cross
When she left me and married my boss.
She’s tacky and trashy,
Uncouth and real flashy.
Lucky me, it’s my gain and his loss.
The Husband In The Above Limerick Has More To Say:)
My wife was an out-and-out pain.
And being her spouse was a strain.
She’s run off with my boss.
He’ll find out it’s his loss.
I’ve at last caught a break: it’s my gain!
I had a great time with Denise.
She’s classy, and what a great piece
Of ass; now you’re next.
Don’t look so perplexed.
She loves to play Catch And Release.
Correction Of Above Limerick
I had a fun time with Denise.
She’s classy, and what a great piece
Of ass; now you’re next.
Don’t look so perplexed.
She loves to play Catch And Release.
Archeologists dug hill and dale.
Found an ancient note; fragile and pale.
Spending millions (they said)
We’ve revealed that it’s red,
And says: “half of marked price in this sale.”
I’m thinking of learning to sail.
Maybe I’ll start small-scale.
A kayak is small.
I’ll go to the mall
And see if there’s any on sale.
Catch and Release
Mr. Piscary’s one fishin’ fool.
I’ve met him before; he’s real cruel.
He caught me, then freed me.
Once again didn’t need me.
Now I’m late for my class with the school.
Isabella to Chris C., Oh my oh!
Westward Ho! but I don’t quite know why, oh.
But should you prevail
As your small fleet sets sail
You’ll be a small town in Ohio.
Do you think you’re low-class? Here’s a test:
With flashy sluts, are you obsessed?
Do you think that “Black Tie”
Means something you buy
For court to avoid an arrest?
There once was a woman of class
But we all know that ditty, alas!
It is a small classic
As old as Jurassic.
We’ve nothing to gain, so I’ll pass.
Did you hear what I heard about Mary
And her deeds that were rather contrary
To our town’s moral code
(Yes,I’m gonna explode)
Psst, psst, also Tom, Dick and Harry.
‘bought a hot cargo boat in a sale,
That sped off like a force-seven gale.
A fast patrol boat
Overtook me, to gloat,
And then fined me, – for importing kale!
19-11-22
‘bought a hot cargo boat in a sale,
That sped off like a force-seven gale.
A fast patrol boat
Overtook me, to gloat,
And then fined me, – for importing kale!
“I will take the wind out of his sail!”
Thundered Moby when Ahab grew pale.
But well-schooled Mrs. Dick
(with old saws she was quick),
Said, “It’s sails–with an ‘s’–you big whale.”
An old hooker who just couldn’t win,
Advertised for the wages of sin,
By approaching one male,
With a two-for-one sale.
He said, “Not if the other’s your twin.”
Correction:
On November 16, 2022 at 11:26 pm, I submitted a limerick that had only two feet in line 5. Permit me to add a foot.
Have you heard what they say about whoozit?
It’s for sure that he really did lose it.
It’s no gossip, my dear.
That guy really is queer.
He’s in love with a ewe and he screws it.
She was offering great love for sale
With a guarantee never to fail
To give satisfaction
No matter what action
You chose — Either head or some tail.
I went with my bosom pal, Gail
To “Plus Size” to check out their sale.
I tried to be kind
When I saw a great “find.”
And said, “This would fit YOU and a whale.
SALE, SAIL
When I see a posh boat that’s for sale
My temptation to buy it won’t fail.
I sailed in a really strong blow
But the boat doesn’t go
‘Cos I’ve bought one that jst has no sail!
GOSSIP
As I walk or I sail I might hear
A chat that will not please my ear.
The talkers contend
That a mutual friend
Will hear nothing, so she won’t shed a tear.
CLASS, CATCH, FLASHY, STARE, GAIN
At my catch I stare time and again.
It’s so flashy it drives me insane.
A fish that’s top class
So I can’t let it pass
CLASS CATCH FLASHY STARE GAIN
Sorry – left out the last line
At my catch I stare time and again.
It’s so flashy it drives me insane.
A fish that’s top class
So I can’t let it pass
And I say that I treasure my gain!
When my last Class Reunion was done,
Someone nudged me to say that I’d won,
At both “Glassy-eyed Stare”
And “Eat Muesli in Chair.”
See, you’re never too old to have fun.
Long ago in the sound we would sail.
One time we were caught in a gale.
It seemed that our plight
Was to sink out of sight,
But were saved on that day by a pail.
One day we went out for a sail.
Found ourselves in a race with a whale.
Very soon we were passed,
(He was very fast).
We renamed our craft the Sea Snail.
Donald Trump has just Tweeted, to show
That he’s still our main man (don’t ya know)
More rhetoric; a farce,
He still talks from his arse,
Like a half-blown balloon that’s let go.
There once was a golfer so flashy
A bystander stared and said “Trashy.”
When she heard that oaf mutter
She threw down her putter
And gave him a whack with her mashie.
I was told by my dearest friend Gail,
“At Neiman’s there’s quite a big sale.
And since you’ve weak eyes,
I highly advise
That you follow the Shalimar Trail.”
He said loss after loss was a bane.
He could not catch a win, – “what a pain!”
Then results turned to “Nice!”
When he won big-time, – twice!
So he gambled a gain and a gain.
Did you hear about Mrs. O’leary
Who found our dry town much too dreary..
Ignoring the rumors
That she wore orange bloomers
She moved someplace cheery and beery.
I’ve just heard the goss’ about Sadie,
Our bright local corner-shop lady.
Cops found that her sale
Of green veggies ain’t kale,
She’s in jail now for dealings quite shady.
I’ve never done gossip, – it’s bad.
But last week I bumped into your Dad
His chat in the rain
About you, was insane.
It’s the best forty minutes I’ve had!
At the “clear-out, you’ll feel like a schmuck.
Believe me, you won’t have much luck.
For your big garage sale
You’re sure gonna’ wail
When the Holy Grail’s down to a buck.
Early Bird Special?
It starts at the crack of the dawn.
In advance of your very first yawn.
For your first garage sale,
Look outside, and you’ll wail
When you see the freak show on your lawn.
My weight-loss coach likes this refrain:
“If you’re feeling no pain, there’s no gain.”
It’s catchy; I’ll try it.
I’m changing my diet
To a magnum-a-day of champagne.
When a lower-class lout (quite the potterer),
Wed a crone twice his age (thought a lot o’ her),
Said his Pappy, “What fun!
While I’m losing a son,
It appears I am gaining a dotterer!”
I’m sorry you can’t make a sale
Your bot cannot tell I’m not male
It is sending me pics
Of feisty nude chicks
Which I block. Their advances just fail.
There is always ONE at the table.
Thanksgiving is here, Oh My ME!
We all will gain weight, (guarantee!)
But try not to stare
At that ONE guest who’s there
Who always says, “I would like tea.”
“Coffee Everyone?” Correction of Rhyming Error Above
Thanksgiving is here, Oh My Me!
We all will gain weight, wait and see.
Now try not to stare
At that ONE guest who’s there
Who always says, “I would like tea.”
Sorry, Mad. It’s still wrong! “Coffee Everyone?”
Thanksgiving is here, Oh, My Me!
We all will gain weight, watch and see.
Please try not to stare
At that ONE guest who’s there
Who always says, “I would like tea.”
Mrs. Dick was the whale to regale;
Next to hers, Moby’s exploits grow pale.
Many sailors — aghast —
Begged her, “Don’t eat the mast!”
But she couldn’t resist a big sail.
If children’s rhymes and songs were subjects of gossip…
Mother Hubbard missed meals and she knew
That her doggy would go hungry too.
Now the word on the street
Is: in order to eat,
She’s been cooking herself canine stew.
That old farmer who lives in the dell
Torched his buildings in town, I hear tell.
Cow and cheese prices crashed
And his cash flow was slashed —
But the payout from Allstate was swell!
Have you heard the hot news about Jill?
Someone told me she went up the hill
With that ne’er-do-well Jack,
Then got down on her back.
I sure hope she’s been taking the Pill.
Which suit for my talk at the fair?
My favourite has a small tear.
I’ve a suit that’s too flash’
For addressing the mass,
And the twin set I like, – she won’t share.
So I’ll make my speech naked; ‘don’t care
If my birthday suit makes them all stare.
But my fear, in that hour
Of speech while they cower,
Is the law suit (class-action) I’d wear.
Juicy Gossip
Did you hear that Mad’s led us astray?
She pilfered our verses last May!
Put them ALL in a book,
You can find at “Book Nook”
Titled, “Never Write Lim’riks This Way”
Hey Lisi,
Ms. Mad stole our lim’ricks in May?
That’s a grave allegation, I’d say.
Is your info reliable?
If it’s not, you are liable;
And for libelous gossip you’ll pay.
Hey Yourself, Rudy
Gee Golly, I hope Mad won’t scold me.
A voice in my head had cajoled me:
“Give the secret away
And she might have to pay.”
(The unqualified truth is, Mark told me.)
Hey Mad,
I’m putting the cart now, of course,
Before the proverbial horse.
If the gossip is true,
And Mark ratted on you,
That could be the grounds for divorce.
In the North-west of England lies Sale,
A pleasant town from where I hail.
As it’s not near the coast
A ship-shop it don’t boast –
So in Sale sails are never on sale.
Gossip
The buzz is that I am “a fool”
And not only that, I am “cruel”
Cuz I cheat on my wife,
So I’ll have a “hot life.”
I didn’t know I was so cool.
Word is: you’ve been seeing my daughter.
Quit now, or I’ll make your life fraughter.
If that word you’ve not heard,
You might think it’s absurd, –
So just think: potentially shorter.
Today’s the big Black Friday sale.
If you want the hot merch, hit the trail.
Sally forth on the hunt;
Fight and grab what you want!
Though like me, you may end up in jail.
How nice it would be to set sail
To a beach, where I’d lounge, quaffing ale,
To spend all of my days
Soaking up the sun’s rays.
This I’d do, could I only make bail.
I have a boat with a huge sail
And the crew is entirely female
When they’re in the mood
They all work in the nude
And I find it goes up without fail.
A tarty girl called Abigail,
Wore a large sign which simply read “TAIL”.
“What’s it mean?” she was asked;
She replied, quite aghast,
“Can’t you see I have something for sale?”
[A tip of the hat to: A naked young tart named Roselle / Walked the streets whilst ringing a bell / When asked why she rang it / She answered, “Gol dang it! / Can’t you see I have something to sell?”]
The Lim’rick Affair
The evidence still is quite weak,
But there’s been a significant leak.
Was it rumor or fact?
Ignore it or act?
Mark my word that for justice I’ll speak.
(Some gossip)
His wife bought a feline; benign,
From a catalogue, – suits her just fine.
So to liven things up
He purchased a pup
From a dogalogue viewing on line.
The Golden Years Job Interview
If I’m getting a flash, please don’t stare!
I’ve no eyebrows, but lots of chin hair.
See my big turkey neck?
This job’s too high tech.
It’s a shvitz in here! Got any air?
(wonder if she got the job:)
There’s a problem when ‘ere I set sail
Motion sickness ensures it’s a fail!
Though I aim for the bucket
Other folk have to duck it
Ending up rather beyond the pail …
Senior Ladies Wednesday Mahjong Club
Hot flashes are something we share.
We’ve no eyebrows, but lots of chin hair.
We’ve abandoned romance,
Cuz we might wet out pants.
But we still have that come-hither stare.
I’m planning a sunny bright sail,
But I’ll still take my trusty light pail.
Will it rain? Hard to say.
Either way, I’m ok.
If it does, then I’ll just have to bail.
The blog of stud muffin Jim Bollom
Is certainly not very solemn,
He’s so well-endowed
His fans are all wowed –
I’d say it’s a real gossip column.
There’s a gossip-mad lady called Fay
Who is gullible too, I would say.
She once started a rumour
That she had a tumour –
And believed it when told the next day!
I am always put off by a Christmas sale
Because everything’s based on a fairy tale.
The hypocrisy and greed
When so many are in need . . .
And besides, all the fruit cakes are mostly stale.
A funny old gal called Miss Mossop
Was known as the town’s biggest gossip
From morning till night
She ‘d cause many a fight
And the actual truth was a toss-up
Be careful what you ask for.
She thought he had breeding and class,
With a catch: he was boring, alas.
“Mom and Dad both like dash;
Try to show them some flash!”
Which he did, when he flashed them his ass.
To get a degree he did fail
At the Law Schools of Harvard and Yale.
Those schools are too flashy,
And that ivy is trashy.
He caught up on law while in jail.
He’s spinning a mariner’s tale:
“How not to prepare for a gale.
It’s known from the past
That removing the mast
Will render a boat not for sail.”
A mariner’s spinning a tale:
“How not to prepare for a gale.
It’s known from the past
That removing the mast
Will render a bot not for sail.”
Oops – line 5 above should read:
Will render a boat not for sail.”
On Black Friday, I hoped to succeed
In purchasing items I’d need.
Although hyped as a sale,
It was more like a trail
That led to the Klondike Stampede.
Where Was This Sale?
At Target, I hoped to succeed
In purchasing items I’d need.
This “Black Friday” sale
Was more like a a trail
That led to the Klondike Stampede.
As for gossip these days, I want none of it;
Though it seems that I’m mired in a ton of it.
How I miss the old days,
With their civilized ways,
When we picked on folks just for the fun of it.
Cowes Week had a wonderful glamour;
Until my fart made members clamour
To insert a large sail
Or a ship up my tail –
Their choice – in the end – a windjammer.
There’s a statue of Zeus in the square,
Where the townsfolk have gathered to stare.
He’s buck naked, you see,
And his package is wee.
(He’s a god, though; that doesn’t seem fair.)
The chatter’s intense. “By my soul,
What poor loser would pose with *that* pole?”
“This was sculpted from life
By the mayor’s ex-wife!”
Idol gossip is out of control.
Moby’s ladylove cried up a gale,
When she caught her man out chasing sail.
Upon hearing her blubber,
One classy landlubber,
Said, “Good God, that’s one hell of a wail!”
Juicy Gossip
I heard all about my wife’s tryst.
Seems somebody saw she was kissed.
Then they both got undressed.
He saw her bare chest.
I hope that this tryst won’t desist.
Whenever we go for a ride
On horseback, Sue’s quick to confide
Some secret she heard;
Now she’s spreading the word.
Her gossip is taken in stride.
It was said that I must be a pro.
I worked in a bake shop, you know.
That job was a joke;
But since I was broke,
I stayed on, as I kneaded the dough.
“If the rumours about me are true –
And they might be, between me and you –
You’re in danger, I fear,
For you tempt me, my dear – –
And what is a poor playboy to do?”
correction from Nov. 21st. 4:19 AM
I said to my trusted friend, Gail,
“At Neiman’s there’s quite a big sale.
And since you’ve weak eyes,
I highly advise
That you follow the Shalimar Trail.”
“Ancient Home” For The Almost Dead
Though we ladies at “Ancient” are frail,
We still manage to rush to a sale.
Cuz it’s always a blast.
But we must get there fast.
‘Fore we hand in Ye Olde Dinner Pail.
Gossip
The 50’s were simply divine.
The gossip sure tingled my spine.
I loved being alone
With my Rotary phone.
Which included a cool party line.
I’m wise to my cheap cousin Gail.
Does she actually think that I’ll fail
To realize this gift
Came right from the “Thrift”
On that ONE day they had a big sale?
To invest I am fain to explain
Requires not much of a brain.
So if you’ll catch my drift,
This advice is a gift:
Just buy low and sell high for a gain.
She walks down the street. People stare
At the schmattes that she’s wont to wear.
She may not have class.
But oh, that fine ass!
Who’ll deny it’s beyond all compare.
She walked out; said my gossip was goading.
She came back, though I sense a foreboding:
She’s just said she missed me;
She’d norm’lly have kissed me,
But this time, I see she’s re-loading!
Once again, with the ladies I fail.
When I asked for a night out with Gail,
She said, “Hate to be rude;
You’re a hapless old dude.”
What’s this “hap” and who’s got some for sale?
When I catch a rude stare from some lout,
Then I ponder, “What’s that all about?”
I prefer a good leer.
It may leave me in fear,
But at least it won’t leave me in doubt.
In your best unspeakably pissed voice (you know you want to).
So the cops said I’m drunk and should sleep.
“Don’t clump to contusions, yous creep.
Willing swine is no crime,
Arm assistin’ that I’M,
not as thunk as YOU drinkle might peep.”
It has been pointed out to me (by my good friend Sunny Landen) that the meter in line 2 of the limerick I submitted on 12/4 (11:24 pm) is off. “Requires” has only two syllables. (Who knew!) That’s fixable. Here is the corrected version:
To invest I am fain to explain
Requires not too much of a brain.
So if you’ll catch my drift,
This advice is a gift:
Just buy low and sell high for a gain.
Long ago, in a much better time,
We would sit without reason or rhyme
In a cozy café
And gossip all day;
And the coffee did cost just a dime.
Nautical Metaphor
My girlfriend, I’m told, has set sail.
Therein, as you’ve guessed, lies a tale.
She went off to float
In some other guy’s boat.
And I’m glad. I’ve been wanting to bail.
Herschel Walker, a flashy young man
(Years ago), has been part of a plan
For a GOP gain.
It’s become very plain
He’s now only a flash in the pan.
Heads Up, Please!
Stop staring, you’re such a disgrace!
This isn’t the time or the place!
You ain’t got no class.
And you’re terribly crass.
You might like to know I’ve a face.
I regret to report a sad tale:
My limerick skills have set sail.
Is my muse gone forever?
I strive to be clever.
Alas, I just sit and bewail.
In Yiddish, they call her a Yenta.
She’s the one who believes virtue sent her.
Others’ favor she wins
By recounting your sins,
And there’s naught you can do to prevent her.
A trip to the dark side:
The laddie would STARE at the lass,
Admiring the curve of her ass.
The way she was built
Got a rise ‘neath his kilt,
Showing all that this Scot had no CLASS.
In Egypt ’twas deemed a good match,
When Isis her brother did catch.
There was no stare decisis
To cause a big crisis.
She had laws banning incest dispatched.
Hey Mad,
Seems like “Big Brother” is watching. He doesn’t like the “i” word. But he doesn’t seem to mind downright graphic description of sex in a lot of posted limericks.
Rudy
************
From Mad: When my blog software spots a word that’s popular with spammers, such as “incest,” it sends the post into “moderation.” I, the moderator, review it and if it’s not spam, I approve it. So if you look above this post, you’ll see your original post.
Let’s try again without the “i” word and with a further correction. (“stare” here has two syllables)
In Egypt ’twas deemed a good match,
When Isis her brother did catch.
Without stare decisis
There was no big crisis.
She had laws against such things dispatched.
Once more unto the breach.
In Egypt ’twas deemed a good match,
When Isis her brother did catch.
Without stare decisis
There was no big crisis.
To incest laws she said: “Go scratch!”.
An enormous trunk, sent me by mail,
Holds a creature both useless and pale.
If I need to get firm
With my huge pachyderm,
Then I’ll have a white elephant sale.
Attention All Limerick-Off Procrastinators: The current Limerick-Off ends tomorrow, Saturday, at 4 pm (Eastern time.) So please get your limerick stragglers in.
I Need Earplugs!
My neighbor, MS. I’m Not So Clever
Has one real consuming endeavor.
She gossips all day.
Starts her phrases this way:
“I’m not a tale-teller, however”
(P.S. If you want to hear juicy gossip all day, move to a “senior” building)
Joey always had crabs, so he’d scratch.
He burned houses down with a match.
He stunk, had no class.
All day long, he’d pass gas.
Mom said, “Grab him, he’s such a good catch.”
In that tale, when the whaler sets sail
On the trail of the palest old whale,
You hope it’ll so be
A win for old Moby,
And pray that the sailors will fail.
“With his credit cards maxed at the sales,
Do not ask the poor fellow, “What ails?”
As he’s loath to admit
That he’s taking the hit
‘Cause his wife caught him chasing strange tails.”
Legend tells of a seafaring snail
Which went cruising traversing a sail.
In the time that it took
To return from Cape Cook
It had learned how to reef in a gale.
Thanks so much everyone for another fun Limerick-Off, which is officially over. And the winner is…
Limerick-Off Award 503. Congratulations to the winners!
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Blue.