He'd rather have held it at Checkers
With wine served by bowing Quebeckers
And handsome young Scots
In kilts, doing squats
So Carrie could ogle their peckers.
He'd rather have held it at Checkers
(No, not Nixon's dog, you dumb peckers.)
But the kennel was small
It was no home at all.
Rather like poor Boris Becker's.
A tourist thought, dancing the hula,
"This cost me a whole lotta moola
Next year I'll hit Spain
With the girl down the lane
While my wife is away with her doula."
The Gambler said: "Know when to hold 'em.
As well, you should know when to fold 'em."
And just as he died
He smiled and sighed
And gave me his dice, but I sold 'em.
Odysseus hearing the sirens
Thought "Wow, such delightful environs."
He twanged on his lyre,
With harmonies dire
And rhymes as facile as Byron's.
There was once an old lady called Marge
Who lived on the canal in a barge.
She brewed her own beer,
But it tasted quite queer
For the water was not fit to sparge.
One evening in old Amsterdam
There was a young lady from Norway
Who hung upside down in a doorway
Her look of surprise
Could hardly disguise
That she realised she was in a poor way.
For mammals the bat is unusual
For mammals the bat is unusual
For it can't walk or run. You shall all
Be their rival
For basic survival
But at least it saves money on shoes f'you all.
But how long the reign of the mammals?
The donkeys, the cats and the camels?
They'll triumph, for sure,
With their milk and their fur
And their fangs all encased in enamels.
So now then, we come to the sharks
Who terrorize oceanside parks
They eat innocent swimmers
And old ladies with Zimmers
And doggies with high yappy barks.
So break out the wine and the feta
We're making this limerick meta!
If for you there's no mote
In the grape or the goat
Then what could ever be better.
But for those that don't drink
Or from goats milk just shrink
And throw up at the thought
Of all of that sort,
Between them there's really no link.
It's hot on the Loire at this time
It's hot on the Loire at this time
Some see the sunshine as sublime
But others (like me)
Think it's horrid, you see
And would rather have frost or some rime.
Comments
With wine served by bowing Quebeckers
And handsome young Scots
In kilts, doing squats
So Carrie could ogle their peckers.
Thought: "This cost me a whole lotta moola...
He'd rather have held it at Checkers
(No, not Nixon's dog, you dumb peckers.)
But the kennel was small
It was no home at all.
(No, not Nixon's dog, you dumb peckers.)
But the kennel was small
It was no home at all.
Rather like poor Boris Becker's.
"This cost me a whole lotta moola
Next year I'll hit Spain
With the girl down the lane
While my wife is away with her doula."
Encountered a devilish ghoul
Encountered a devilish ghoul
Who purchased his soul
In exchange for a foal
Encountered a devilish ghoul
Who purchased his soul
In exchange for a foal
And a dip in the neighbourhood pool.
"It's short, nasty, brutish" said Hobbes
At which all humanity sobs:
At which all humanity sobs:
For the short, nasty thing
Is likely to bring
At which all humanity sobs:
For the short, nasty thing
Is likely to bring
Bad food and bad sex and bad jobs.
As well, you should know when to fold 'em..."
As well, you should know when to fold 'em."
And just as he died
He smiled and sighed
And gave me his dice, but I sold 'em.
Whose tastes were baroque and rococo
Whose tastes were baroque and rococo
But puritan art
Was a knife to his heart
Whose tastes were baroque and rococo
But puritan art
Was a knife to his heart -
He derided it at every smoko.
Odysseus hearing the sirens
Thought "Wow, such delightful environs."
Who lived on the canal in a barge
Thought "Wow, such delightful environs."
Though he may have misheard
Thought "Wow, such delightful environs."
Though he may have misheard
The chirps of a bird
Thought "Wow, such delightful environs."
He twanged on his lyre,
With harmonies dire
And rhymes as facile as Byron's.
There was once an old lady called Marge
Who lived on the canal in a barge.
She brewed her own beer,
But it tasted quite queer
For the water was not fit to sparge.
One evening in old Amsterdam
I purchased some cold hamstered ham
They said it was pork
But the meat on my fork
I purchased some cold hamstered ham
They said it was pork
But the meat on my fork
Tasted more like Aunt Pam's fur jam
A pickpocket, looking like Fagin
A pickpocket, looking like Fagin
Yelled "Hey, what the dickens!
My hourly pickins'...
A pickpocket, looking like Fagin
Yelled "Hey, what the dickens!
My hourly pickins'
Are taxed by some eurocrat pagan."
Who hung upside down in a doorway
Who hung upside down in a doorway
Her look of surprise
Who hung upside down in a doorway
Her look of surprise
Could hardly disguise
That she realised she was in a poor way.
For mammals the bat is unusual
For they can't walk or run. You shall all..
For it can't walk or run. You shall all..
For it can't walk or run. You shall all
Be their rival
For basic survival
For it can't walk or run. You shall all
Be their rival
For basic survival
But at least it saves money on shoes f'you all.
But how long the reign of the mammals?
The donkeys, the cats and the camels?
Their milk and their fur
The donkeys, the cats and the camels?
They'll triumph, for sure,
With their milk and their fur
And their fangs all encased in enamels.
Who terrorize oceanside parks
Who terrorize oceanside parks
They eat innocent swimmers
And old ladies with Zimmers
Who terrorize oceanside parks
They eat innocent swimmers
And old ladies with Zimmers
And doggies with high yappy barks.
So break out the wine and the feta
We're making this limerick meta!
We're making this limerick meta!
If for you there's no mote
In the grape or the goat
Then what could ever be better.
But for those that don't drink
Or from goats milk just shrink
And throw up at the thought
Of all of that sort,
Between them there's really no link.
It's hot on the Loire at this time
Some see the sunshine as sublime
Some see the sunshine as sublime
But others (like me)
Think it's horrid, you see
And would rather have frost or some rime.