As always, write a limerick on one or combined topics and post it int he comments section. Good luck. (I think I'll give you till midnight Wednesday to answer)
Every one has comfort food,So when I’m in a downright bad moodI just get nice and cozy,And fry up some pierogiAnd get rid of that bad attitude.
I'll post my limerick later today--I'm still recovering from 14 hours and 809 voters yesterday at the polls...
Henry the eighth loved the twelfth nightWhile othello is just as you likeBut we have much adoWhen we all tame the shrewOf the merry wives' midsummer night
Those fried doughy dumplings are nastyBut no worse than a Burger King pattyYou don't know disgustTill you've eaten the crustOf a mincemeat-filled Michigan pastieStory behind this one. I vacationed once in the upper peninsula of Michigan, and kept seeing signs by the side of the road advertising "Pasties" for sale. Now, perhaps you don't share my lexicographical prurience, but to me the word "pasties" (sounds like "paste") always meant those tassels that strippers stick onto their nipples to ensure that they are "clothed" by Supreme Court standards (please don't bother going to Google and Wikipedia to confirm). Was there a nascent erotica industry here in the iron belt of Michigan? No, it turns out that a pasty was a pierogi-like pastry, filled with steak, potato, onions, and other things, baked into a pie crust. It actually wasn't half bad. And thankfully, I never saw real "pasties" for sale by the side of the road.
Don't hate on Wayne Brady 'cuz he's blackOr 'cuz his game show on Fox is wackHe's been honored and praisedBut we should be amazedThat the dude got his start at SAK!
We chimpanzees smoke our cigarsBut your language is different from oursWe just need a beerAnd the sign says right hereSo why are kids at your "monkey bars"?
That August day couldn’t have been hotter,As I jumped on my favorite teeter-totter.I went down with a “thunck!”And there I was stuck‘Cause my ass had sadly gotten fatter!
To rhyme or not to rhyme?Well, in limericks it is a crime.To end a versewith syllables diverseis to make poetry that's now worth a dime.It may be a stretch on the Shakespeare theme, but here it is such as it is.
There once was an Okie from MuskogeeHe dropped in to have a pierogiI said it was tosh, if he had just a nosh,But he found my words quite hokey
There once was a man from Denmark,Whose nature was really quite dark,He got into a fight,And he wasn't too bright,And was as dead as a granite landmark.
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