Time to give folks a haven from the campaigns or the Olympics or whatever may be chafing their chaps.
Come, soothe your sulking cerebrum by creating long, languid, lush limericks.
Well, long doesn’t really work, except to make the previous line sound really purdy. Course, if someone wants to take on the Epic Limerick (minimum eight stanzas), be our guest.
No rules here (tho’ it’da be nice if things would scan well . . .).
Upon a midnight, dark and dreary,
I pondered: “Why am I so weary?”
When in flew a bird
With comforting word.
Quoth Raven: “Don’t worry - be cheery!”
I wonder how that would work in trochaic tetrameter?
There once was a poster named BJMoose
Whose name was thought to be eponymoose
When questioned about it
He knew he’d been outed
“It’s actually more like synonymoose.”
There once was a thread in this forum…
That let me attract Dopers and bore 'em…
While to responding to said thread…
A thought crossed my head…
We could just go ahead and ignore 'im.
To timewrite work hours make me mope
Accounting leaves me at the end of my rope
But in the midst of my despair
I realized that I have quite a flair
For getting paid for reading the Straight Dope
The Cryptologist certainly wrote
The short letter they found in his coat
And the hole in his head
Told the world he was dead
But no one could decipher the note.
The fellow, while new to this land,
was insulting and quite out of hand,
despite earnest warning,
when came the next morning,
he found that his ass had been banned. :smack:
Time for some political verse. (I know, I said in the OP this would be a haven from politics. I lied.)
Since I’m the fairer-and-balanceder-than-thou sort, I’ll take on all comers (in order of the last poll I saw - your polling may vary.)
Though Bush went to Harvard and Yale,
His policies turns me quite pale.
Osama’s around,
No weapons were found -
Perhaps we should send George to jail.
'Tis time to consider John Kerry.
His platitudes make me quite wary.
He flips and he flops
and flaps 'til he drops.
I’d rather just watch Tom and Jerry.
Now think on poor, hapless Ralph Nader:
His poll numbers show he’s a fader.
But yet will he run
'Til set of the sun
Because he likes being Darth Vader.
“SETI’s found a signal,” said the news reader,
“It’s from deep space and in regular meter:
‘Eeep! Blup-ti-lu-klop,
Freet! Shrut-dee-ru-blop.’”
[Trans.]: “Take… me to… your leader.”
There once was a man named Muldoon
who used forks instead of a spoon.
He didn’t really mind
His soup slipping thru tines,
'cause his meal wasn’t over too soon.
I know. It was late, and I was tired.
I once saw a fireman prancing
With kitties this odd guy was dancing
He tried out a dip
But out fell the catnip
And the felines were no longer romancing
A gay secret agent named Fawcett
Spurned the bustle, the bra, and the corset.
He said, “No drag for me!
I just want to be
The Spy Who Came Out Of The Closet.”
There once was a boy from Aberystwyth
Who screwed all the men that he kystwyth.
He’d lick them and suck them
And rim them and fuck them
And pull on the prongs that they pystwyth.
