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Writing

Some Limericks

This is just a quick one, since I’ve been so busy getting ready for my trip. In the lead-up to Christmas I had to send out a series of emails to my team at work, one or two a day for about two weeks. As a bit of fun, I included an original limerick in each email. I’ve removed the ones that wouldn’t make sense because they were work-specific, but here are the rest (and yes, I have been meaning to post these since Christmas):

There once was a man named Nick,
Who thought he was pretty slick.
He met a girl,
They gave it a whirl,
In the end she chopped off his dick.

In the darkness was a sound,
Indeed it sounded real profound.
And in fact it was,
The harsh sound of a snoz,
Being smacked into the ground.

Monday mornings are fun,
If you’re a few brains short of a one.
The rest of the week,
Is hopefully sleek,
And races from the starting gun.

Rhyming words can be easy,
Especially if you’re a bit sleazy.
But a limerick,
Is kind of a dick,
To make anything but cheesy.

Charlie had a big cockroach,
That he wasn’t sure whether to bake or poach.
So he ate it raw,
It tasted like ‘slaw,
And he used the shell to make a broach.

There once was a man named Vaughn,
About whom nobody did warn,
His poor wife Beth,
He beat her to death,
And ground her up into some quorn.

Once Deshawn’s lust was sated,
He sat down and pontificated.
But he’s such a klutz,
He sat on his nuts,
And now they call him Deflated.

There once was a man called Grange,
Whose hearing was rather strange.
He could pick up the tune,
Of a rusty bassoon,
From thirty-five miles and change.

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