Archive for the ‘Travel Humor’ Category

Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: CAB at the end of Line 1 or 2 or 5

Sunday, October 16th, 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 CAB 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 FRUIT, using any rhyme scheme. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best FRUIT-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 Oct 30, 2016, 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, October 29, 2016 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)

Here’s my limerick:

A garrulous gadfly would gab,
Driving ev’ryone nuts as he’d blab.
People longed to be spared
The critiques that he aired,
En route to their flights in his cab.

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!

Sea of Disappointment (Limerick)

Wednesday, June 8th, 2016

A fellow was given the slip
By a woman aboard a large ship.
He’d thought her his mate —
His ocean trip fate —
But he never had time to unzip.

Happy World Oceans Day! (June 8)

Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: LAID or MISLAID or DELAYED at the end of Line 1 or 2 or 5

Saturday, March 19th, 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 LAID or MISLAID or DELAYED 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 GREED, using any rhyme scheme. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best GREED-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 April 3, 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, April 2 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)

Here’s my limerick:

A woman whose plane was delayed
Yelled and flew off the handle, then prayed.
Fellow passengers, scared
By her conduct, soon aired
Their dismay: “Help! We plainly need aid!”

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!

Happy “Take A Cruise Day!” (Limerick)

Wednesday, February 3rd, 2016

For some inexplicable reason, today’s “Take A Cruise Day,” which is my excuse for this limerick:

While a fellow was off on a cruise,
He smoked grass and kept knocking back booze.
“When I’m seasick,” he said,
“Weed and hootch soothe my head.
And I’d rather be woozy from wooze*.”

* “Wooze” is slang for the combination of weed and booze.

Dear Long Island Rail Road (Limerick)

Monday, April 20th, 2015

Happy “meeting anniversary” to my wonderful husband Mark. (April 20, 1977, aboard the LIRR)

Dear Long Island Rail Road, my debt
To your system, I’ll never forget.
Back in Seventy-Seven
Your train car was heaven:
‘Twas the place where my spouse and I met.

(More epistolary poems here.)

UPDATE: Someone on Facebook asked for more details about our meeting on the train. Here’s what I wrote:

Re your questions, for some odd reason (possibly love at first sight, which I don’t even believe in) I did something very uncharacteristic of me when I saw Mark come bopping up the train’s aisle: I smiled and gave him “the eye.” He just looked so handsome and cute, and I liked his eyes and willed him to sit across from me. (It was the end of a long, tiring day — a full day of law school, followed by a trip into Manhattan for a symphony orchestra rehearsal. And I was feeling both exhausted and hyper.)

Anyway, Mark smiled back and then, much to my chagrin, he kept on bopping past me and past lots of empty seats and went into the next train car.

I figured I’d never see him again and then, suddenly, Mark returned to my car, walked past the empty seats again, and sat across from me. His first words to me were: “Boy, you look tired!” Which provoked a monologue by me about everything I’d done that day, followed by a monologue by him detailing his rather full day.

Seven weeks later, we were engaged.

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.

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!

Python Massage? What Kind Of Snake Oil Are They Selling? (Limerick)

Thursday, October 9th, 2014

Python Massage? What Kind Of Snake Oil Are They Selling? (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A python massage? Thanks, but no!
It’s relaxing, you claim? I say whoa!
If it’s torture I’m after
(Now please hold your laughter)
Then off to the gym I shall go.

If you want a complimentary python massage, all you have to do is visit the Philippines Zoo.

Does The “Knee Defender” Have Legs? (Limerick)

Tuesday, August 26th, 2014

After reading about the “Knee Defender” scuffle on board a United Airlines flight, I just had to write a limerick:

The fight started on a United Airlines flight because one passenger was using the Knee Defender, a $21.95 gadget that attaches to a passenger’s tray table and prevents the person in front of them from reclining.

… A flight attendant asked him to remove the device and he refused. The woman then stood up, turned around and threw a cup of water at him, the official says. That’s when United decided to land in Chicago. The two passengers were not allowed to continue to Denver.

Does The “Knee Defender” Have Legs? (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Though I’m short, there’s no room for my knees
When I fly, without paying high fees.
But I’d never react
With a tool to contract
Someone’s space, just to feel more at ease.

So the use of a plane “Knee Defender”
Is offensive to me — a contender
For a selfishness prize.
So women and guys,
If you try it, I’ll bitch. You’ll surrender.

Limerick Ode To Aviation Day (August 19)

Tuesday, August 19th, 2014

Limerick Ode To Aviation Day
By Madeleine Begun Kane

On this day, aviation shines bright;
Brother Orville, a father of flight,
Gets a birthday ovation
By prez proclamation.
Those who think today’s special are (w)right.

Happy National Maritime Day! (Limerick)

Thursday, May 22nd, 2014

A limerick about the ups and downs of going to sea, just in time for National Maritime Day:

A queasy man, drawn to the sea,
Being lured by its lore made a plea:
“I’ve an ocean trip notion,
But all of that motion!
Please doc, keep me mal de mer-free.”

When Sex Is A Train Wreck (Limerick)

Wednesday, October 2nd, 2013

A striking headline: Train Runs Over Couple Having Sex on Tracks.

When Sex Is A Train Wreck (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

There are folks who like sex when it’s risky.
Taking chances can make them quite frisky.
But sex on the tracks,
Is mad to the max.
Their coitus, I’d guess, involved whiskey.

Update: April 23 is “Take A Chance Day.”

Taking The Plunge (Limerick)

Thursday, June 20th, 2013

Today on Facebook, someone posted a photo of a short, female subway rider using a plunger on the train ceiling, so she could remain standing without losing her balance. Since I too am a short, subway-challenged woman, I was inspired to write this limerick:

Taking The Plunge (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

I am thinking of taking the plunge:
Subway plungers might help prevent lunge
And thusly forestall
A terrible fall.
But I need one not covered in grunge.

Happy National Maritime Day! (Limerick)

Wednesday, May 22nd, 2013

A limerick about going to sea, just in time for National Maritime Day:

A Seafarer Returns (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A fellow returned from the sea
And was greeted by tears from mate Leigh.
“I missed you,” she moaned.
“I sure wish you had phoned,
Cuz your absence seemed fishy to me.”

UPDATE: June 25 is the Day of the Seafarer.

Limerick Trips (Limerick-Off Monday)

Sunday, May 5th, 2013

It’s Limerick-Off time, once again. And since Mother’s Day is approaching, I’m offering you an alternative: In addition to your regular challenge, you may write a limerick related to Mother’s Day, using any first line. Next week I’ll present an extra award — one for the best Mother’s Day limerick.

And now, getting back to your regular Limerick-Off challenge: 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 Limerick Of The Week 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 11:59 p.m. (Eastern Time.)

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

A fellow who took many trips…*

or

A fellow who frequently trips…*

or

A gal who enjoys taking trips…*

*(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:

Limerick Trips
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A fellow who took pricey trips
Was exceedingly chintzy with tips.
Just deserts fin’ly came
When he crossed the wrong dame,
Who laced his dessert and his dips.

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!

Hashtag Madness (Limerick)

Monday, April 8th, 2013

Please relax Cher fans — Cher is still alive:

Legions of Twitter users were fooled into thinking the pop singer had passed after people began posting about late British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher under the hashtag #nowthatcherisdead.

Hashtag Madness (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

“Nowthatcherisdead” — hashtag blur
Has created one hell of a stir:
Dear fans of Ms. Cher,
Who’ve read “news” you can’t bear:
Cher’s alive. Thatcher’s dead. As you were!

Time’s “Flight” (Limerick)

Wednesday, June 6th, 2012

Miss Rumphius asks us to write about the passage of time:

Time’s “Flight” (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

It is said that “time flies,” but that’s wrong,
Cuz the flights I’ve been on take too long.
I think time really flees
In a flash. It’s a tease,
Speeding fast as a dreadful act’s gong.

Limerick Degree (Limerick-Off Monday)

Sunday, February 19th, 2012

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 Limerick Of The Week Winner plus the Honorable Mentions.)

How will your poems be judged? By meter, rhyme, and cleverness. (If you’re feeling a bit fuzzy about limerick writing rules, you can find some helpful resources listed here.)

I’ll announce the Limerick of the Week Winner right before I post next week’s Limerick-Off. So that gives you a full week to submit your clever, polished verse.

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

A fellow who had a degree…*

or

A woman who had a degree…*

*(Minor variations to my first lines are acceptable, but rhyme words may not be altered.)

Here’s my limerick:

Limerick Degree
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A fellow who had a degree
In law, yes, the dreaded JD,
Found the market dried up,
So he sang for his sup
On a ship after going to sea.

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!

Homing Limerick

Thursday, February 16th, 2012

Poets United prompts us to write a poem about home:

Homing Limerick
By Madeleine Begun Kane

I may travel and wander and roam.
For adventure, the streets I may comb.
But wherever I go,
Here’s the one thing I know:
There is nothing and no place like home.

Cruising For Laughs

Thursday, December 8th, 2011

I learned some valuable lessons during the second annual Lewis Black Comedy Cruise:

1: When stand-up comics like Lewis Black, Kathleen Madigan, John Bowman, Vic Henley, Mike Wilmot, Greg Proops, Jeff Stilson, and Tim Wilson are having great difficulty standing up, they aren’t necessarily drunk. It could also be THE HURRICANE.

2. My husband’s delusions of grandeur are no longer confined to his thinking he’s both a lawyer and an MD. He now thinks he’s a comedian.

Yes, hubby Mark Kane actually did a three-minute routine on “amateur comic night” — his virgin performance — and he did amazingly well.

And no, I didn’t perform any of my limericks. Why not? Because I can’t even remember what I wrote 30 seconds ago.

3) When you rumba really fast, and with lots of enthusiasm, it passes for dancing … at least on a ship-load of Lewis Black groupies.

Okay, right now you’re probably saying to yourself, “What’s with all this prose? I want me some limericks!”

Well don’t worry. I’ve written a half-dozen limericks about the cruise and some of the comedians who made it so much fun:

Cruising For Laughs
By Madeleine Begun Kane

We went cruising with Lew, Vic, Kathleen,
John and Wilmot, whose act sure ain’t clean.
Also Tim, Jeff and Greg,
And some hurricane — Meg???
Comics bravely tried not to careen.

*****

Limerick Ode To Vic Henley
By Madeleine Begun Kane

The stand-up comedian Vic
Has a wit that’s incredibly quick.
He hails from the south,
But his city-smart-mouth
Conjures up multi-cultural schtick.

*****

Limerick Ode To Mike Wilmot
By Madeleine Begun Kane

The off-color comic named Mike
Tells some jokes that the squeamish might spike.
But his musical tales
Provoked huge laughter gales.
So Mike’s funny, but leave home your tyke.

*****

Mad Kane At Sea
By Madeleine Begun Kane

I’m afraid that I’m feeling at sea:
I went cruising — a comedy spree
With Lew Black and his crew,
Who were funny on cue.
How I miss all that laughter and glee!

*****

Limerick Ode To Greg Proops
By Madeleine Begun Kane

The brilliant Greg Proops hurts my brain.
His routines nearly drive me insane:
His mind is so fast,
And his humor’s a blast,
Yielding laughter that leaves me in pain.

*****

Pining For Lew
By Madeleine Begun Kane

I’m afraid I don’t know what to do,
Cuz I’m pining away for dear Lew.
To wait a full year
For more Lewis cruise cheer?
Such pain can’t be borne by this Jew.

*****

(You can read my limericks about the 2010 cruise here and my Kathleen Madigan limerick here.)