Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: PALE or PAIL or IMPALE at the end of Line 1 or 2 or 5
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 as a comment to this post and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.
I hope you’ll join me in writing a limerick using PALE or PAIL or IMPALE 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 a themed limerick related to DOGS and/or CATS, using any rhyme scheme. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best dog and/or cat-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 January 24th, 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, January 23, 2016 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my limerick:
A maritime lawyer from Yale
Feels his int’rest in law start to pale.
He’s filled with regret,
For he’s drowning in debt–
So at sea in his field, he can’t bail.
Please feel free to write your own limerick(s) using the same rhyme word 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!
Tags: Competition Limerick, Debt Humor, Law Humor, Lawyers, Legal & Lawyer Humor, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Maritime Humor, Money & Finance Humor, Poetry & Prompts, Writing Prompts
When it rains cats and dogs mixed with hail,
You’ll be smart if you look for a pail.
If you can’t find a real one
Just go out and steal one.
I’ll be happy to put up your bail.
–
The response of the typical male
Is to turn the palest of pale,
When informed by his wife,
The love of his life,
How much she has saved at the sale.
Our puppy would try to impale
Every creature possessing a tail.
This libidinous habit,
When tried with a rabbit,
Anatomically just had to fail.
In my youth, I was thin as a rail,
But today I resemble a whale.
I attribute my size
Less to burgers and fries
Than “small” sodas that come in a pail.
A NAUGHTYCAL TALE
When I met me gal Gail, I was hale.
Now I’m pallid and palsied and pale.
It’s ironic, I know:
When that Gail starts to blow,
It takes the wind out o’ me sail.
My meter’s OK, but I quail
Over rhyme ’til I’m sweaty and pale;
I take buckets of time
Coming up with a rhyme,
But when pen comes to paper, I flunk.
:^)
With rouge on her cheeks, she’s not pale,
Just look, she is one hot female!
The tricks of the trade
She knows are well played
Her age, “39” will prevail.
The sex was way beyond the pale,
The orgasms, way off the scale
The memories, profound
The feelings, astound
Did it happen, or one huge, tall tale?
An apocryphal Biblical tale
Says Christ drank from a leaky old pail.
Cried James, “Though I’m sure
That Thou lovest the poor…
Jesus Christ, that is one Holey Grail!”
The Bundy crowd should be in jail,
Or be sent out of town on a rail…
But the Law lets them linger,
And won’t lift a finger:
You see, their complexions are pale.
The tire store ads surely will fail.
The salesman’s face turns rather pale
‘Cause the wording they had
On the sign was quite bad:
We’re having a big blow-out sale.
Woman looked very pallid and pale;
When she died, her blind husband named Dale
Said her eulogy was
Very touching because
He was able to read it in Braille.
Today’s GOP turns me pale:
Their hatred is straight off the scale.
I’m starting to long
For the days of that strong
Intellectual statesman, Dan Quayle.
If you don’t know who John Muir was, these two limericks won’t make sense.
Conservationist’s kitten was sprawled
By the toilet, its owner recalled.
When I asked, “What’s its name?”
Said the owner of fame,
“A John Mewer is what it is called.”
“What’s the name of the forest,” said Monique,
“Where some kittens now live by a creek?
There are trees of wood red
In this forest,” she said.
“Mewer Woods is the answer I seek.”
There’s a hole in that bucket, that pail.
If filled, there’d be a watery trail.
We’ve nothing to fix it.
In all of our tool kit.
And that’s why it’s up for re-sale.
“Free” speech runs according to scale,
Says the Court. The amount you can pay’ll
Give your measure of Speech.
So the lesson they teach
Is our Government’s truly for sale.
(I seem to be feeling political today…)
What Republicans say on the trail
Goes beyond (how ironic!) the Pale.
When ev’ryone’s stump speech
Sounds just like a Trump speech,
God help us if they should prevail.
“Although I am breathless and pale
From the effort of all my travail,
I have almost,” I said,
“Got one foot out of bed —
The conquering hero, all hail!”
I used this one before, but anyone with a dog will relate:
If you throw a dog a stick
He’ll retrieve it mighty quick
But take heed, my friend
It will NEVER END
Till you want to kill that mutt with a brick
My sightless lover looked pale
When he finally got out of jail
But his face got pink
When we got in sync
And he noticed the braille on my tail
Re Dogs and/or cats:
When your cats or dogs jump on your bed
And start doing a dance on your head,
You may think that they’re playing.
But what they’re really saying
Is “Hey get up, we wanna be fed!”
They stare out the window all day
Guarding your home square away
Then the UPS guy
Tries to say, “Hi”
But by now Fido’s far far away
At the nude beach the regulars rail
At the newbies who follow their trail.
They’ll claim that they go
Very often, although
Certain parts are suspiciously pale.
The skin tone that tends to prevail
At a Donald Trump rally is… pale,
Like Klansmen for Don
Chanting “We’re Number Wan!”
(I sense an electoral fail.)
NOTE: If you’d prefer to rhyme “wan” with “man” (as Poe does), you may want to substitute this for the inner lines:
Like a group from the Klan
Chanting “We’re Number Wan!”
IN WHICH A SHAGGY DOG GIVES MILK
O’er a bottle of good Polish ale,
Young Tadeusz told me the tale
Of a cow he once had
That was thoroughly mad,
And that hated his shiny new pail.
Poor Tadeusz told me of how,
At each morning’s milking, the cow
Would catch sight of the pail
And start twitching her tail;
Then she’d kick him, and lay him out — POW!
That dairy cow’s rages and piques
Went on, not for days, but for weeks.
The farmer was now
Quite afraid of his cow,
And the color drained out of his cheeks.
Then Tadeusz thought of a trick:
To the end of a very long stick
He fastened the bucket;
Then swiftly he stuck it
Beneath her. The cow didn’t kick.
This story sounds silly and droll,
But it’s perfectly true, ‘pon my soul!
Ask those hereabout,
And they’ll tell you, no doubt,
The Tale of the Pale Pole’s Pail Pole.
People think that these words are quite terse,
‘Cause they state that there’s nothing that’s worse
Than a poem ’bout cats.
It is twisted, and that’s
The sole reason they say it’s purr-verse.
When Jonah was inside the whale
He found himself turning quite pale
He knew without fail
Those ribs could impale
So he set up his digs in the tail
The mail order bride wore a veil
When lifted, the groom turned quite pale
From pale he turned green
She’d arrived sight unseen
He shipped her back C.O.D. mail
Granny’s Grail
Don’t try to impale on a pail!”
My grandmother’s wise holy grail
Trying to buck it
Virgins who took it
On top of a bucket
Forever kept telling the tale
Whailing willy was big as a whale
(Imploded limerick)
There was a leak within my pail
I tried to fix it with a nail
Not one, but six
It would not fix
My Ad reads, shower head for sale
A TRUE STORY
Of Prince Vlad, they tell many a tale —
How his deeds made his enemies quail!
He made, it is told,
A stake of pure gold,
An ambassador for to impale.
The ambassador, showing no sign
Of his fear, said, “This poor life of mine
To your honor is owed.
But for me, O Voyvod,
A stake of pure gold is too fine,”
A smile lit Vlad Dracula’s eyes.
He told the ambassador, “Rise!
Your life I shall spare.
You’ll live long in my care,
For I see you’re a brave man, and wise!”
I heard my love let out a wail
and knew she was fast turning pale
I’d heard it before
and told her once more
“my dear, stay away from the scale.”
They want what you eat; they won’t quit
They stare and chomp at the bit
You wonder if wheat
Is a proper treat
Give me a break: they go out and eat shit
Mad: previous limerick”
Please change give MA a break to give ME a break
Thank you
(MBK: Done.)
The candidates–by and large–“pale”–
The big crooks not close to a jail–
Yes our system is lacking
In common sense backing–
But America’s too big to fail!
Dogs like to poop in the grass
It’s where they put their ass
But when covered with snow
And they’ve no where to go
They simply must take a pass
REMEMBERING MST3K
Though “Rifftrax” is great, we should hail
Other comics who blazed the same trail.
So let me extol you,
Frank Conniff, Trace Beaulieu,
Joel Hodgson and Mary Jo Pehl!
She appeared to be fragile and frail,
Anorexic, anaemic and pale.
But her looks were misleading,
And when she was feeding
On cock, she could blow like a whale.
Though at times she was mentally foggy
And to think about sex made her groggy,
This featherbrained dish
Insisted “No mish!”
For her pussy, she knew, preferred doggy.
Prince Vlad said “I do not impale
My enemies, that’s just a tale.
But it’s true that I get
Quite a tasty brochette
When I skewer a child like a quail.”
Don Giovanni, a lecherous male,
Loved to sing of the girls he’d impale,
But his screams when he fell
To the fires of Hell
Were right off the musical scale,
Our painter brought lunch in a pail,
But his sight was beginning to fail,
And he chose the wrong bucket,
So now our walls – fuck it! –
Are painted with curry and ale.
He looked for a fine piece of tail
That he hoped to seduce and impale,
But he ended, alas,
Right up his own ass –
He’s hermaphrodite, being a snail.
MY DOG “CHEWIE’
Chewie stares out the window every day
Protecting her family square away
But then comes the thunder
And she’s torn asunder
To a strange galaxy, far far away
TO MAKE IT A BETTER LIMERICK AND NOT USE THE WORD AWAY TWICE
MY DOG “CHEWIE”
Chewie stares out the window every day
Protecting her family; does not go astray
But then comes the thunder
And she’s torn asunder
To a strange galaxy, far far away
“THE GREATNESS OF A NATION CAN BE JUDGED BY THE WAY
ITS ANIMALS ARE TREATED” –Mahatma Ghandi–
If you’re not into animals, fine
As long as you’re never unkind
For the cruelty I’ve seen
On such innocent beings
Makes me angry and anti-mankind
There is only one dangerous breed
And it’s humans, the species of greed
There’s no justification
For annihilation
Woe to those who impose such misdeed.
I *like* being flabby and pale.
With cynical laughter I’d wail
If scientists learned
Heat from exercise turned
Something carcinogenic in kale.
@Daisy Mae —
OT, but you reminded me: I wrote this for my cat Violet, who was abused and abandoned, was captured as feral, underwent a botched attempt at ear-tipping that mangled her ear, got sent to an abusive shelter and locked in a damp, dim basement, came to us, had four or five years of a happy life, and then died suddenly in 2005…
Triolets for Violet
The more I know mankind,
The more I love my cats.
The less to love I find
The more I know mankind.
I have in heart and mind,
One firm belief, and that’s
The more I know mankind,
The more I love my cats.
The more I know my pet
The less I think of humans.
So proud we are, and yet
The more I know my pet,
The failings we forget
Comparison illumines;
The more I know my pet
The less I think of humans.
SIZE DOESN’T MATTER
One dog sports a mighty small tail
While another’s appendage prevails
But it’s not about size
It’s the WAG that’s the prize
And no wag may mean that a dog’s pale.
He got stopped by a cop. Turning pale,
He attempted a bribe to dodge jail.
But it didn’t quite work
‘Cause the poor, clueless jerk
Didn’t notice the doughnuts were stale.
There was a young cat with a score
who died walking through a wide door
he slipped on a mat
set up by a rat
Who slammed shut the door with a roar.
(Yes. I know rats don’t roar)
There was an old dog quite a bore
who tended to fart through his snore
his owner set forth
To send him up north
so, he bit him to even the score.
I used to dream critics would hail
My Tschaikowsky. And now I sit, pale,
In a dim little flat,
Teaching brat after brat
How to fumble a C-major scale.
(OK, this might be stretching a little too far…)
Ted Cruz is all smarmy and payall —
Eddie Munster as played by Rik Mayall.
His statements are vile,
And made worse by a smile
With the charm of a poisonous snayall.
MY DOG “CHEWIE”
Chewie loves a ride in the car
She looks out the window like a movie star
We go around the street
Repeat and repeat
As far as she’s concerned, we’ve gone very far
CORRECTION
I Used the word far TWICE!
Chewie loves a ride in the car
She looks out the window like a movie star
We go around the street
Repeat and repeat
In her opinion, we’ve gone very far!
His stories of sex made mine pale;
He described all the gals, without fail.
“I was with one last night
Over six-four in height!”
That struck me as quite a tall tail.
Well HERE’S a tale making HIS pale
My friend banged a mermaid named Gayle
Had a whale of a time
But the only sad crime
Was the blow hole was covered full-scale.
There was a young man named Dale
Who decided to impale a snail
Its body was slimy
Poor Dale said ”Oh Blimey”
I just speared a hole in my pail”
That Transylvanian tale
Of Dracula (known to impale)
Was inspired by Prince Vlad
Oh boy was he bad
His heinous crimes right off the scale
The rain once was canine and feline
While everyone else made a beeline
For the door, I stood, witless
For I was scared shitless
But in my pants I made a pee line.
Even so, I was not prepared when
The rain became stranger, again
Thought some girls would be nice
(Not of sugar, but spice)
But no dice, for it’s just raining men.
If cats could talk,here’s what they’d say
It’s our house but we’ll let you stay
If you feed us fillet
At least once a day
don’t worry, we won’t stray away
BAD CHEWIE
She hides her toy under the bed
But wants YOU to fetch it instead
She keeps doing it again
Till the time comes when: you saw off its legs
Till it’s flush to the floor
So you’re back from your sunny day sail,
And I see you’re still pasty and pale.
Now I wonder, oh heck,
Did you stay below deck,
Drinking ale as you nailed some tail?
Though his rep would cause most folks to quail,
He was merely your typical male,
An impenitent cad,
Cuz it seems that young Vlad
Was just seeking some babes to impale.
This is from Phyllis Sterling Smith:
I think it is cruel to impale
Little worms on your fishing hook. They’ll
Not have a choice
Since they haven’t a voice
With which they can weep and can wail.
When I’m thirsty, I like a good ale
By the pitcher, the yard or the pail.
But drinking too much
Will just get me in Dutch,
And I’d probably wind up in jail.
Pail, Impale, Pale Leemricks 1/17/16/DCLEE
Just pick up the pail
then high tail
it to the well
and ring the bell
so we can set sail
If I were to impale
the heart of the matter to you, you’d wail
then we’d have to start over
like a game of red rover
just back and forth with no sale
My dear today you look pale
what happened to your sale
did the buyer back out
well, you know he was a no-account
are your coffers now an empty pail?
Well, call when you’re out of jail
I’ll buy a boat and we’ll set sail
to a far off land
join a rock and roll band
and make millions to fill our pail
So up the hill they carried a pail
at least that’s the way I heard the tale
then one fell down
like a circus clown
and the other turned ghastly pale
So if I were to tell you this tale
you’d be so scared you’d turn pale
then you’d lose so much sleep
even if you counted a 1,000 sheep
and probably send me to jail
Darling, hurry and get me a pail
I need to throw up your “salade a la kale”
You used too much cumin
I don’t feel human
Tomorrow we’ll go to “Steak and Ale”
To the chief we all hail
guide our ship with full sail
we’ll do all we can
to help with his plan
and fill his bucket list pail by pail.
Will, that’s a heart-rending account of the life of your poor cat. I agree that humans are frequently vile. Still, if we can give another being – animal or human – a few years of happiness, that’s something.
Will told us a terrible tale
Of poor Violet, frightened and frail.
But, determined to save her,
The life that he gave her
Shows we’re not all beyond the pale.
Our dog shows affection and pride
As he licks my wife’s face side to side,
Especially her nose,
For the little chap knows
There’s a fine, tasty bone just inside.
Our high moral standards prevail.
We never have need for a jail.
You always can trust us
To execute justice.
In ISIS, you sin, we impale.
To Trump on the stump, it’s “No sale!
Your pronouncements, though meant to regale,
Are crass and uncouth,
And to tell you the truth,
You’re beyond this American’s Pale.”
When the limerick writing young quail
Lost direction and started to flail,
She invoked the great borrow
That generated much sorrow
In the sea-sick pale lawyer from Yale.
Her dog, neither sad, lost nor sorry
Whose collar ensured fleas weren’t a worry,
Would sniff wide, high and low
And nowhere would not go.
In singleminded pursuit of his quarry.
“A dog’s life”, they say. Well, just think:
Fed and housed, and with plenty to drink,
No work, only play,
Lengthy naps every day –
Who wouldn’t exchange in a wink?
CORRECTION OF TERRIBLE LIMERICK
“Chewie’s Game”
Chewie hides her toys under the bed
And wants YOU to fetch them instead
What a clever chien
But time and again
We need this game like a hole in the head
One day my Maltese caught a whiff
Of some bitch and then said with a sniff,
“She’s not of my breed
But I know what I need:
A great dame that will make my mast stiff.”
My dog, though he’s quick, ain’t a greyhound,
And he’s not, without training, a stay hound,
But he thinks that his job
Is to fetch what I lob,
Which, of course, makes him ace as a play hound.
Though I so love my bulldog—he’s British—
Is his pedigree even legitish?
Sure, he seems to be bold
When the bearskin’s unrolled,
But on BARE floors, that fool dog is skiddish.
The Bundy man started to rail
‘Gainst the dicks he got sent in the mail:
“Look! A big phony schlong!
Wait a minute — I’m wrong —
It’s a mirror,” he said, turning pale.
Cats, aloof? Why, there isn’t a pellet
Of truth in the tale as they tell it,
For they’ll jump into bed
And they’ll sit on your head,
Purring,”This is my butt — come and smell it!”
If your puppy-dog constantly chews
Through one of each pair of your shoes,
He’s just taking care
That your feet should be bare
When you step into one of his poos.
I WISH THIS WAS A TRUE STORY…
My love for my dog was a true one,
And the day that she died was a blue one;
But she left so much hair
On my sofa and chair
That I sat down and knit me a new one.
My kids found a cat that was scruffy,
And at first, I was pretty darn huffy,
But they washed him real well,
And then dried him a spell—
In the dryer. I love our cat fluffy.
Some campaign pronouncements entail
The absurd, like “I didn’t inhale…”
But out on the stump,
What we’re hearing from Trump
Should get shoveled and dumped in a pail.
Someone walking a dog
That drops a big log
Has to reach for a bag and go scoop it.
My solution is crass;
Tape the bag to its ass
And then it’s right there to recoup it.
At times, when the going was tough —
When I felt that enough was enough,
And I’d want to give up —
I would look at my pup…
And my pup looked at me, and said, “Wuff.”
When my patience was truly worn through,
And I just didn’t know what to do,
In my fuddle and fog
I would turn to my dog,
And my pup, looking up, said, “Aroo.”
In the midst of an awful kerfuffle,
When rest was as rare as a truffle
And no peace could be found,
I would turn to my hound,
And my dog turned to me, and said, “Wuffle.”
And should I confront the abyss —
When it seemed my whole life was amiss,
And I wanted to bawl —
She’d say nothing at all:
Just come over, and give me a kiss.
My dog has long since passed away.
But after a terrible day
When troubles betide me,
She’s still here beside me,
And still knows the right thing to say.
Will T. – That is epic.
I kept all my pets in a pail,
And I fed them each day without fail.
Then a cat ate my hake,
My crab, and sea snake,
But where in the hell is my whale?
The report card he held made him pale.
His son had quite clearly set sail.
To return him to shore,
He yelled with a roar,
“You must get better grades without fail.”
To identify dogs, we agree
That a strap ’round the neck is the key.
Has the owner’s last name;
The phone number of same.
This technique is named “collar ID.”
Out in Texas, a cowpoke named Sid
Took to heart words from songs as a kid.
Bought a dachshund one day
‘Cause the lyrics did say:
“Get a long little doggie.” He did.
When my neighbour announced his vile plan,
I thought him a terrible man.
“Gonna repaint the cat,
Then I’ll sand it down flat” –
But it’s only his catamaran.
When Jack and Jill hiked up the trail,
For appearance, they’d carry a pail.
But that tumbling sound
Came after they found
The ledge for their love nest could fail.
With Sarah, The Donald will pale
While stumping with her on the trail.
Unintelligible warbles
She rolls out like marbles;
“Campaigning for Dummies” we’ll hail.
Kitty cat why you so pale
Stumbling upon the snowy trail
Around tiniest corners and mail
Seem to have your head impaled.
From the distance I heard a wail
It was my construction guy Dale
“There’s a nail in my neck
I’m a total wreck”
No wonder he looked so pale
“1945”
My Darling you look so pale
And I noticed you also seem frail
All I did was suggest
After we got undressed
We would enjoy a nice coffin nail
Chewie loves a knish
It’s her most favorite dish
But when her anus is filled
She needs to be drilled
We always know: she smells like fish
NOT A DUPLICATE
Chewie loves a knish
It’s her VERY favorite dish
But when her anus is filled
She needs to be “drilled”
We always know, ‘CAUSE she smells like fish
Whenever I drink, without fail
I always inhale too much ale
The bathroom’s barf bucket
Is where I upchuck it
I puke in a porcelain pail.
“Threw a stick in the river,” said Fred.
“Told my dog to go fetch; off he sped.
Swam three miles to the stick,
And he brought it back quick.”
“That is much too far-fetched,” people said.
At the border, dog does inspection
Of all cargo, and its intention
Is to sniff out the drugs
That are smuggled by thugs.
Dog’s the scenter of their attention.
LET’S TRY AGAIN WITHOUT USING THE WORD NAIL!
From the distance I heard a wail
The scream was distinctly male
“Help me please; I’ve a spike in my neck
I’m passing out; I’m a total wreck”
I guess that’s why he was pale
The greatest love’s for le chien
He’ll bark, though you’ll always know when.
He’s steadfast and true
Though you’re slippers, he’ll chew
Then he’ll kiss you again and again.
For Henry, the night was a fail;
Spent chasing and trying to nail
A pretty young thing
Who noticed his ring
Left a circle that’s narrow and pale.
A man once had sex, and so that’s
Why he’s virgin no more – and congrats!
But why have the lay
At the SPCA?
He said, “I love pussy, and cats”.
Oh, and Mad, in my Jan 15 submission, could you swap “thought” in for “though” in L8? Please and thank you.
From MBK: Done.
He has been such a strong healthy dog
Ever since he was found in that bog.
And he’s such a delight,
Though he’s not all that bright:
Throw a stick and he’ll fetch you a log.
Lemme tell you this right off the bat:
Seems my dog has just eaten your cat.
Though I think it a shame,
My poor mutt’s not to blame—
You should not let a cat get so fat.
The hare’s speed was upsetting the tale.
The tortoise was starting to pale.
Thought he, “I must switch,
Be the son of a bitch,
So I think I’ll go race me a snail.”
A showerhead ordered by mail
Consists of white bucket and nail
Hang it up like a wreath
And poke holes underneath
That is how you impale a pale pail.
An old Roman emp’ror, quite frail
Was shaky and feeble and pale
A spasmodic sneezer
And convulsive wheezer
That old geezer “Hail Seizure, hail!”
I’ve got a real magical pail
I just might put the thing up for sale
Place it over your head
Under water you’ll tread
It will let you inhale and exhale.
The crooks who stay free in some jail
Should get nothing but bread that is stale
The water, just soil it
Don’t bother to boil it
And make sure the toilet’s a pail.
Make the slammer a hell without bail
Any bribes to the guards will all fail
Toughest rules should fulfil
So that prison life will
Make the meanest of convicts turn pale.
Show some mercy though, let it avail
But do it upon the same scale
Hand it out ev’ry day
Just as much as did they
Give their victims whom they did impale.
My dog and my curious ferret
Together they both caught a parrot
Had no feathers, was marred
It was orange and hard
Disregard the damn thing; it’s a carrot.
A steak that I salted and peppered
Was given to my German Shepherd
But the steak wasn’t beef
And it gave me some grief
When I found out the meat’s really leopard.
Some folks think there’s something quite regal
‘Bout a fox chased by many a beagle
It’s silly and wasteful
And frankly, distasteful
The act should be bloody illegal.
I once had two drunk Cocker Spaniels
That spilled and lapped up my Jack Daniel’s
They then tore up, did drag
A big white sugar bag
On the floor and ate up all the granules.
A friend of mine has a Jack Russell
That dog’s full of hustle and bustle
He jumps super high
Almost touching the sky
‘Cause each leg has a spring-boarded muscle.
A fishing instructor named Dale
Begins with the line in a pail.
It won’t be much later
This true master baiter
Will dangle his fly without fail.
Well, someone was using their noodle
When they crossed a Lab dog with a poodle
A guide dog it could be
And it’s allergen-free
What’s the name of this dog? Labradoodle!
An alarm system quite avant-garde
Which is used in a car wrecker’s yard
Turns all thieves into flinchers
‘Cause Doberman Pinschers
Just shred ’em like shrapnel and shard.
Do NOT cross a male St. Bernard
With a female Chihuahua, that’s hard
On her poor little uterus
Crying, “Please neuter us!
Tutor us how to safeguard!”
A nasty old parrot named Gus
Gets mixed up when he starts to cuss.
Squawking “fumb dother-mucker”
Then “sirty dockcucker”,
He wants to “tish the kick” out of us.
There’s something I’ll never embrace
Repulsive and so out of place
After somebody’s mutt
Finished licking its butt
It goes licking its master’s whole face.
Though a dog’s like a sweet diplomat
I’m afraid that a cat’s where it’s at
Dogs stink and eat poop
Bark loud, slobber and snoop
‘Tween your legs. Can’t recoup after that!
Most folks put their wants in a pail
To be acted on ‘fore their hearts fail
But I don’t have a bucket list
Just a big fuck-it list
Stretching a mile down the trail.
My Lynxpoint is nice, never naughty
He’s a dog trapped inside a cat’s body
He’ll sit, lay, shake paw
And his scratch-post he’ll claw
On command — all of that; not too shoddy!
Nineteen pounds, like a cougary cub
He won’t turn down a nice bellyrub
No rodents he’ll slaughter
But loves bugs and water
The bathroom sink serves as his tub!
He likes to gnaw bones and eat eggs
For treats he just sits up and begs
He likes to play chase
Snuggles up ‘gainst my face
‘Round my neck, he will wrap his front legs.
(true story… I wuv my Lynxpoint – a cat breed formed from combining a Tabby with a Siamese Bluepoint – the best!)
A gal bought a golden retriever
But found none of her friends would believe ‘er
When she said, “It is true
I will not let him screw
Me but, damn! Can that doggie lick beaver!”
An Indian whose life was sucking
Asked the chief, “Why does my name bring yucking?”
“We are named for first view
When we pop from squaw’s slough.
Why is it you ask, Two Dogs Fucking?”
Hey Phil! It’s about time you came back!
We missed your talent!
Step back when a goat lifts its tail
It’s a sign that the shit’s gonna sail
In pellet-like turds
Much like cottage cheese curds,
Excepting they’re dark, never pale.
Hard though it is to believe, my last limerick doesn’t include the appropriate words or theme. Would you please insert “pale” for “fail”?
Note from MBK: Done. :)
“I can’t bark. I can’t pant. I’m not brawn-
Y.” His therapist said, “Did it dawn
On you it might be
‘Cause you’re feline, you see?”
“I’m a cat,” he meowed, “Well, doggone!”
An X-ray technician told Batman
“Results show that you are a fat man”
But nobody knew
That Catwoman sneaked through
The machine; that is why it’s a cat scan.
A dog and a cat once got married
Their love life was hectic and harried
They fought and had spats
Just like all dogs and cats
Till they killed one another, now buried.
Thanks so much everyone for another fun two weeks of limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is…
Congratulations to our Limerick-Off Award Winner, the Dog and/or Cat-Themed Limerick Winner, the Facebook Friends’ Choice Award Winner, and to the Honorable Mention winners: Limerick of the Week 244.
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Frank.