Archive for the ‘Clothing Humor’ Category

Happy Birthday, Bikini (Limerick)

Tuesday, July 5th, 2016

Today’s the bikini’s 70th birthday. So happy World Bikini Day!

I’ve never dared don a bikini;
They’re too skimpily small — teeny-weenie.
Call me shy if you must,
But I simply don’t lust
After beachwear that’s dwarfed by a beanie.

Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: Press or Impress or Express or Oppress at the end of Line 1 or 2 or 5

Saturday, May 28th, 2016

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 Press or Impress or Express or Oppress at the end of Line 1 or Line 2 or Line 5. (Homonyms or homophones are fine.)

The best submission will be crowned Limerick-Off Award Winner. (Here’s last week’s Limerick-Off Award Winner.)

Additionally, you may write themed limericks related to ANGER, using any rhyme scheme. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best anger-related limerick.

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 June 12, right before I post the next Limerick-Off. So that gives you two full weeks to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday, June 11, 2016 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)

Here’s my limerick:

When job-seekers “dress to impress”
At the office, that’s helpful I guess.
But must social attire
Entail and require
Spending ev’ry last cent you possess?

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!

Limerick Ode To Lost Sock Memorial Day

Monday, May 9th, 2016

AWOL socks are a grim laundry given;
Former pairs inexplicably riven,
Dresser drawers oddly littered
With orphans, embittered
And wond’rin’ where old mates are livin’.

May 9 is National Lost Sock Memorial Day.

Over-Excited About “No Pants Day?” Please Keep Your Pants On!

Friday, May 6th, 2016

A man who was known for his rants
Was caught on the street with no pants.
He was standing half-nude
With a bellicose tude,
On par with his usual stance.

But he HAD a defense for his act
That accounts for the clothing he lacked;
The fellow’s fine mission
Was spur recognition —
“No Pants Day’s” today! That’s a fact.

Happy “No Pants Day!” (First Friday of May)

Limerick Ode To “Clashing Clothes Day”

Friday, January 29th, 2016

Damn! I somehow missed “Clashing Clothes Day” yesterday. (It’s celebrated annually on the 4th Thursday of January.)

But it’s never too late for a limerick:

A fellow who’d constantly clash
And wear clothes that appeared to be trash,
Attended a party
Quite retro and arty.
His clothing “designs” were a smash.

Sowing Angry Customers (Limerick)

Sunday, January 17th, 2016

A limerick for Customer Service Day (January 17):

A seamstress would frequently snap
At her patrons, increasing the gap
Between income and cost.
Seems her bus’ness was lost
Cuz of failure to button her yap!

Happy National Hat Day! (Limerick)

Friday, January 15th, 2016

What’s my excuse for this ridiculous limerick? It’s National Hat Day. (January 15)

A woman who always wore hats
Would never be seen without spats.
Did they match? But of course!
And this clotheshorse’s course
Was to also adopt matching cats.

No Longer Tied To Ties (Limerick)

Tuesday, December 22nd, 2015

Guys who despise ties (and who doesn’t?) will love New York City’s new gender discrimination rule banning restaurants from requiring ties for male diners only.

A male-only necktie demand
In Big Apple rest’rants is banned.
This new rule now protects
Our poor fellows’ sore necks.
How grand that such sexism’s panned!

Not Mad About The Weather (Limerick)

Tuesday, August 4th, 2015

Not Mad About The Weather (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Each summer I bitch about heat.
Humidity too makes me bleat.
But the current one’s better
Than most — wore a sweater
One night, which beats sweat indiscreet.

(DVerse Poets wants weather about the dog days of summer.)

Yet Another Donald Trump Limerick

Wednesday, July 1st, 2015

Yet Another Donald Trump Limerick
By Madeleine Begun Kane

The Donald’s a pain in the rump.
Just seeing his name makes me jump
And turn grumpy and peeved,
So I’m rather relieved:
Macy’s dumping the “fashion” line “Trump.”

(More Donald Trump humor here.)

A Limerick for International Day Of Yoga (June 21)

Saturday, June 20th, 2015

The U.N. has decreed June 21 to be International Day Of Yoga … which gives me a handy excuse to post this silly limerick:

A gal doing yoga while dressed
In a toga, when questioned, confessed
That her garb did not work—
Turned her poses berserk.
So instead of relaxed, she was stressed.

Limerick Ode to the Zipper (National Zipper Day: April 29)

Wednesday, April 29th, 2015

Limerick Ode to the Zipper (Zipper Day: April 29)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

I’ll bet Gideon Sundback felt chipper
When designing the modern-day zipper–
An invention surpassin’
The old ways to fasten…
And a slick trick to hook a big tipper.

The Almost Naked Truth

Tuesday, February 24th, 2015

I love this headline: “Mother, 29, who ran through hotel naked ‘after her friend stole her pants’ is slapped with an obscenity charge.”

Not only did it make me laugh, but it reminded me of my own personal experience, memorialized in this humor column I wrote way back in the Twentieth Century:

A Traveler’s Net Woes
By Madeleine Begun Kane

If your husband ever invites you to join him on a business trip, be sure to ask him these questions:
1. Will you ever get to see him while he is not — technically — asleep?
2. What will he do, if you accidentally lock yourself out of your hotel room in the middle of the night while you are not — technically — dressed?

Unfortunately, I didn’t think to ask these questions when my husband Mark invited me to join him for a six-week Boston business trip. So I had to learn the answers the hard way:
1. No.
2. He will remain — technically — asleep.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Back when my husband urged me to accompany him, all I could focus on was:
1. Whether I could pack my cappuccino machine;
2. Whether I’d get any writing done so far from home; and
3. Whether we’d have reliable net access in our room.

Okay, I admit it: I’m a little — okay a lot — hooked on cappuccino and the on-line life. And I never — ever — go to sleep without reading my email and surfing the web.

Anyway, Mark managed to convince me that working out of a hotel room in a strange city would inspire new, creative ideas. He also swore that Boston is a modern city with lots of cappuccino and Internet connections. So I reluctantly accompanied him, after packing enough gear for a year.

We checked in late that first night, and the accommodations (paid for by Mark’s client) were luxurious. But I gave no thought to our lovely hotel, the sites and sounds of Boston, or the excitement of living in a new city. While Mark unpacked, requested a wake-up call, and ooohed and aaahed at the view, I foraged for a modem connection. Only one view mattered to me — the blank one on my laptop screen.

Finally, I had the computer set up. I began to relax, happy in the knowledge that any minute I’d … What’s this? An error message? What did they mean “no dial tone”?

It must be some mistake, I told myself, as I tried to sign on again and again and again. After a dozen failed attempts I was even reduced to violating my “don’t crawl on a strange rug” rule. Struggling to reach the wall behind the desk and bed, I squeezed my arm into places it didn’t belong, pulling and pushing and tugging at anything that looked important. And trying to spot a loose connection … aside from the one in my brain.

Now a normal person would probably have given up and gone to bed after 10 or 20 or 30 failed attempts to sign on-line. (By this time, Mark had been asleep nearly an hour.) But the more disconnects I got, the more determined I was to access my net account. Am I stubborn? Yes. Plus I really needed my pre-sleep fix.

So I persisted, all the while cursing out computers, the hotel, my husband’s client, and my husband, who apparently enjoys having his bed shoved across the room while he’s sound asleep.

Then it hit me — the kind of revelation one only gets way past midnight. I’d simply phone the concierge, and he’d do some concierge type thing and get it fixed. So I picked up the phone and — you guessed it — it was as dead as my modem.

You moron, I castigated myself, as I tried to guess whether I was being personally singled out for email deprivation.

Just then, I heard a sound in the hall. Eager to find out if anyone else had phone service, and forgetting that my attire (or lack thereof) would get me arrested in many countries, I rushed out the door, wedging it open with a shoe. Luckily (I thought) the sounds were coming from the next room, whose door was ajar.

“Do you have phone service?” I asked a female guest, who was still gripping her luggage.

She didn’t answer. Instead she stared at me blankly, no doubt wondering why some barefoot, barely clad crazy woman was standing in her doorway at 3 a.m.

“Do you have phone service?” I repeated.

“No speak English,” she said, as she put down her suitcase and looked around the room, possibly for a weapon. Now desperate, I attempted to mime talking on the phone. But she apparently didn’t speak mime either.

At this point, I’m afraid I did something that can only be characterized as insane; I strode into the room, walked right past her to the far end, and picked up her phone. It was dead. This was good news, because you need a phone to get someone arrested for trespass.

I put the receiver down and belatedly began to apologize. But the woman ignored me — she was embroiled in some incomprehensible dialogue with a man (her husband?) who had apparently been in the bathroom when I invaded their room. Were they plotting my demise?

I crossed the room as quickly as I could and darted past them, hoping they wouldn’t try to stop me. And that they understood the meaning of the word “sorry.”

Finally I made it out of there, and they slammed the door behind me. Relieved, I turned toward my room and, after tripping over my failed-wedge shoe, I discovered another shut door — my own.

Ten minutes of door pounding later I was still stranded in the hall, and Mark (who can sleep through anything) was still sound asleep.

By now I was more or less resigned to going to bed without reading my e-mail. But no way was I sleeping in the hall.

I probably would have continued my futile pounding, but adding the crime of “destroying the peace” to trespass didn’t seem wise. And getting thrown out of the hotel probably wouldn’t help Mark’s consultant/client relations.

But what else could I do? I couldn’t very well take the elevator downstairs and beg the concierge for a key while I was dressed like this, could I?

Apparently, I could. I started down the hallway, moving as quickly as I could manage, and fervently hoping I wouldn’t meet anyone en route. Fortunately, every reasonably sane person was asleep by then. So the halls and elevator were empty, and I even made it down eight floors to the lobby nonstop. I was so relieved, I didn’t even mind the strange looks I got from the couple getting on as I got off. Or the amused grin from the concierge when I told him I needed help.

“Phone problems?” he asked, looking me up and down.

“For starters,” I answered.

“Sorry, everything’s down at least until late morning. Anything else I can do for you?”

“Yes, I locked myself out of my room. Could you…?”

“Yes, I can see you did. Hold on and I’ll get my keys.”

“This is very embarrassing.”

He took another look and grinned again. “No problem. I’ve seen a lot worse.”

Throughout the elevator ride up and the walk to my room he regaled me with tales of locked-out guests stranded in garb that made me appear ready for a full dress ball. Then he placed his key in the door and said, “Do you have any ID?”

“What?” I said, beginning to panic. “Where would I…?”

“Just kidding,” he said as he unlocked the door.

Safely back in my room, I found Mark sound asleep. Exhausted and angry, I stared at him, willing him awake. I could have been kidnapped from the room in the middle of the night, and he would never have known. I could have …

Suddenly, Mark sat up. “What is it?” he said.

“Didn’t you notice I was gone?”

“What are you talking about? One sec. I have to go to the bathroom.”

“What were you saying?” Mark said as he climbed back into bed.

“Never mind. But you should set your alarm. The phones are broken, and you probably won’t get that wake-up call.”

“Thanks,” he said as he fiddled with the clock and lay back down to sleep. “What did you do to their phones?” he added just before he began to snore.

The Revealing Oscars

Monday, February 23rd, 2015

The Revealing Oscars
By Madeleine Begun Kane

The Oscars have aired
With winners declared,
While folks mostly stared
At the skin that was bared.

Light Limerick (Limerick-Off Monday)

Sunday, November 16th, 2014

It’s Limerick-Off time, once again. And that means I write a limerick, and you write your own, using the same first line. Then you post your limerick here and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.

The best submission will be crowned Limerick Of The Week. (Here’s last week’s winner.)

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 Limerick of the Week Winner next Sunday, right before I post next week’s Limerick-Off. So that gives you a full week to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)

I hope you’ll join me in writing a limerick with this first line:

A man who liked traveling light…*

or

A criminal plot came to light…*

or

A woman stopped short at a light…*

or

The snow was supposed to be light…*

or

My husband was out like a light…*

*(Please note that minor variations to my first lines are acceptable. However, rhyme words may not be altered, except by using homonyms or homophones.)

Here’s my limerick:

Light Limerick
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A woman liked traveling light,
No matter how distant her flight,
Often visiting nudists–
“No clothes” absolutists–
Who took naked delight in their rite.

Please feel free to write your own limerick using the same first line and post it 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!

Happy “Nude Day!” (July 14)

Monday, July 14th, 2014

Limerick Ode To “Nude Day”
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A gal likes to publicly doff
All her clothing, then pose to show off.
“It’s a strip search time-saver
I did you a favor,”
When jailed, she’ll transparently scoff.

“No Bra Day” Ode

Tuesday, July 8th, 2014

“No Bra Day” Ode
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Today is “No Bra Day.” Oh my!
But just ONE braless day? Won’t comply
With the custom of binding
Our breasts. I’m not minding
Those rules. I declare, “Let them fly!”

UPDATE: In addition to being celebrated on July 9th, No Bra Day is also celebrated on October 13.

(For more bra humor, here’s my Wonderbra Song Parody.)

Limerick Ode To “Women In Trousers Day”

Wednesday, May 28th, 2014

Limerick Ode To Women In Trousers Day (May 28)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Dear damsels in pants, take a bow
Cuz it’s “Women In Trousers Day” now.
Seems in Nineteen-Two-Three
On this day, the AG
Said you must allow gals to wear trow.

Limerick Ode To Tweed Day (April 3)

Thursday, April 3rd, 2014

Limerick Ode To Tweed Day (April 3)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Though it’s “Tweed Day,” don’t rush to conclude
It’s a fabric allusion — that’s skewed,
For I’ve just gotten word
That this day, April 3rd,
Is a birthday — Boss Tweed’s — sleazy dude!