Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: FRANK 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 FRANK 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 BEVERAGE-themed limerick, using any rhyme scheme. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best BEVERAGE-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 February 7, 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, February 6, 2016 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my limerick:
A fellow was munching a frank
While standing on line at the bank,
When a woman beside him
Decided to chide him:
“Quite frankly, your manners are rank.”
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, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Poetry & Prompts, Writing Prompts
After leaving the office, I drank
A cold beer with a big jumbo frank.
But when looking for mustard,
I could only find custard.
Was that someone’s idea of a prank?
The hooker was French as the franc,
And she worked on the Paris Left Bank.
Though her English was rough,
I could follow enough:
“Does monsieur want ze phoque ou ze ouanque?”
I once knew a fellow named Frank,
Whose armpits were terribly rank.
Didn’t use soap and water
As much as he oughta
So to put it politely he stank.
Said the Colonel “Now, let me be frank;
A blowjob is due to my rank.”
So the female cadet
Sucked his stiff ‘bayonet’,
But the charge in his weapon was blank.
He was not very bright; to be frank,
The robber was thick as a plank.
“Hand it over, ya schmuck!
… Thirty pints? What the fuck?”
He had chosen to rob a blood bank.
Bella’s new feller, named Frank,
Took her down to his cellar so dank.
As they sloshed through a puddle
She said, “Don’t wanna cuddle
But it’s just the right place for a spank.”
My couch at our local blood bank
Was next to a vampire named Frank.
While I pumped my blood in
Through a tube long and thin,
Frank, frankly, just lay and drank.
Tomorrow is Burns Night. I’ll thank
My hosts tae serve guid auld Scots drank.
To pen odes so frisky,
Burns needed whisky.
And so do I, to be frank.
Women vary a lot, let’s be frank.
We know some who are built like a tank,
And they love their sex rough,
but won’t take no guff!
(For them I’d suggest you don’t spank)
The Captain said “Let me be frank:
This iceberg’s the size of Mont Blanc,
And we haven’t a plug
Big enough to … glug, glug …”
His speech was cut short as they sank.
The whore said she had to be frank
Her memory had drawn a blank
Was it Tom, Dick, or Harry
Who asked her to marry?
She had to know which one to thank.
A woman who never drank wine
Said “Your lips will never touch mine
If you’re wanting a kiss
You can lay off the piss”
He said “Yes but there’s no need to whine”
“I’m not feeling too good. To be frank,
It musta been something I drank.”
“How much?” asked the doc.
Her reply was a shock:
“Fifty fellers – I’d say a sperm bank.”
(Rhyme-word/beverage)
My doctor had told me I oughta
Drink less. Well, I’m fond of a snorter,
Of rum, whisky, brandy,
Whatever is handy –
To please him, I stopped drinking water.
The inspector said, “Let me be frank…”
So I pushed him straight off of the plank,
And when he fell in
To the sausage-meat bin,
I obligingly started to crank.
A Confederate soldier named Frank
Abandoned his post for a wank.
They cut off his dick
And court-martialed him quick —
A Rebel, undone by a yank.
Good morning! I’m calling to thank
You for last night. The wine that we drank
Was first rate. Also great
Was your pie, which I ate
While your mouth made a feast of my frank.
At the sperm bank, a donor named Frank
Exclaimed, “Ladies, there’s no need to thank
Me for spilling this seed.
It’s my pleasure indeed.
You are all in my thoughts as I wank.”
When people say “May I be frank?”,
They’re usually planning to shank
You with cutting remarks
While grinning like sharks.
“You may not” is the way to outflank.
To me there was only one Frank
All the others he did outrank
Not caring what others thought
But never overwrought
Sinatra was King of the Swank
My darling husband Frank
Always fills the gas tank
But to prove I knew how
I managed somehow
To inundate our car till it stank
A hot-dogging skier named Frank
Had relished to race with his rank.
Playing catch-up all day,
“I mustered” he’d say
Then freezing his buns off, he drank.
The happiest Brooklyn dream
Concerns a drink that reigns supreme
It must have real seltzer
You’ll probably belch, Sir
But you’ll love our chocolate egg cream
REVISED-
She lived on the Paris Left Bank
Sold artworks for many a franc
She had a great life,
No worries or strife
And enjoyed the fine wines she drank.
I’ve had 2 husbands named Frank
Number one passed out when he drank
The second was good looking
And great at cooking
But he robbed the Wells Fargo Bank
Oops- THIS is the revised one:
She did love the Nathan’s great frank
But was picky about what she drank
Though ate Nathan’s French fries
She would not compromise
Washed them down with a sauvignon blanc.
Sammy once said to his boy Frank
Some day your career just might tank
So when you’re a led zeppy
Don’t worry your keppy
This mensch will always be your bank!
Albert Einstein’s kid brother, named Frank,
Wed a girl who was dumb as a plank.
For Al’s theory sublime
Of “slow relative time”,
We’ve the Bride of Frank Einstein to thank.
THE BABYSITTER’S LIMERICK
Mrs. Furter, I need to be frank:
Your kid is a pain in the (blank).
He’s really a brat —
Wurst that I ever sat!
(Never sausage a case for a spank.)
In this country, I have to be frank
Most voting is just a big prank
BIg business runs all
It’s always their call
We’re run by a fascist Think Tank.
A poor fellow went to the bank
His finances were in the tank
His wallet in tatters
The debt really matters
And all due to what old Frank drank
The cellar was so dark and dank
But that didn’t matter to Frank
His hiding place there
Was his private lair
(Just needed to yank on the wank)
They pondered when his bar tab shrank
And said “Now what’s up with ol’ Frank?”
He still likes to drink
But now there’s a kink
The tab’s being paid for by Hank!
While sitting around in his tank
He took full advantage of rank
Supervising the crew
He sipped on a brew
One just had to hand it to Frank
Said the clerk at the office “How dank
Was the restroom at Guido’s; it stank
All the gangsters did pee
With such fiendish glee
And the air was so rancid and rank.”
“I guess that I’ll have to be frank.
I didn’t control what I drank.
A cartoonist by trade,
I can’t work. I’m afraid.
I try, but I just draw a blank.”
Despite his pontifical rank,
He felt stirrings of lust – to be frank,
There was one pretty nun
Crying out to be done,
And the thought made him stiff as a plank.
’Neath his cassock, his hand rose and sank
As he furtively played with his frank.
But the nun said “I saw you!
Let me do it for you –
I’m skilled at the Vatican Wank.”
We’ve our casual customs to thank
For the nicknames of people of rank.
Jeb, Ted, Bernie? They’re fine,
But I draw a firm line
At calling the Pontiff “Pope Frank.”
(Do undrinkable beverages count?)
If the Bundys continue their stint,
I think we should give them a hint
About deregulation:
Cut off their hydration,
And make them drink water from Flint.
Sang the poets: When Charlemagne drank,
His armor fell off with a clank,
Revealing (they sang)
His magnificent wang…
(Charlemagne was the first Cock-Tale Frank).
(OOC, for obvious reasons)
“Your student got wasted on plonk
And gave me a punch up the conk,”
Ambroise Thomas spat;
“What do you think of that?”
“Why, I think that’s just D’Indy,” sighed Franck.
(NOTE: Ambroise Thomas was director of the Paris Conservatoire when César Franck taught composition to Vincent D’Indy. This behavior is a little out of character for all three of them.)
THE WRONG DRINK
With girls, I’ve always had luck
Except for Polly Gluck
When out on a date
She ordered a “Seven and Eight”
The waiter charged us an extra buck
“This Chardonnay’s lovely with pork.”
He said as he fondled the cork.
She gave him a smile
But thought all the while
“Just pour it and don’t be a dork.”
We bought a new juicer, so sleek and sublime
That’ll squish all our veggies to drink at one time.
It renders a brew
Quite unique through and through
Like parsley, sage, rosemary and slime.
When some lucky women are frank
The best lover ever’s his rank
He’s quite beguiling
Now they’re always smiling.
They all have this hot guy to thank.
(Not a true limerick, but just for laughs)
The bartender, Sam, said “I’m sorry Ma’am,
But I cannot serve you another.”
The lady was pissed;
She stood up and hissed
Three words, starting out with “You mother…”
Whilst making deposits at the bank
A fellow donor asked of Frank
‘Have you come far?’
‘No, just in this jar
But is sure was one hell of a wank’
At art I’m not even mid-rank,
But it calms me, if I may be frank.
My brain today? Dead,
And my pencil? No lead.
In the end, I keep drawing a blank.
Attempting a credible rank
Of names for me I should thank
Both Sinatra and Anne
Of Zappa I’m a fan.
But Lloyd Wright’s my choice, if I’m Frank.
If I may be perfectly frank,
Our good captain should give up his rank.
For the last time we sailed
His directions all failed
And the ship nearly capsized and sank.
Aaron used a first name of Hank
Howard was preceded by Frank
Not quite misnomers
These hitters of homers
Ever clubbed a roundtrip as a Yank
My week day sweetheart was Frank
My week end beau was Hank
They both were striking
And I enjoyed deceptively liking
My unique and ingenious prank
To Costco my wife had sent me;
For mouthwash and boxes of tea.
Although I was enthused,
She wasn’t amused
When I brought home that big-ass TV.
If you’re drinking and driving you might
Observe an unfortunate sight.
A glare in the mirror
Becoming much clearer
With the flashing red and blue light.
We had a senator named Frank
And a crooner who was stylish and swank
Shaquille and “The Boss”
Have glitter and gloss
The Garden State: forever first rank
LINES OVER A FROST-Y MUG
Some say that the cosmic design
Will perish by beer; some say wine.
From what I know of beer,
It’s sufficient — that’s clear.
But I’ve got enough wine. So that’s fine.
WHISKEY vs WHISKY (a dialog)
“Your Scotch and our sweet Irish dew
Are quite diff’rent; now, isn’t that true?”
“Aye; peat in the malt.”
“So, and that’s where’s the fault?
For it tastes like ye shat in it, too!”
Whoops! wrote mine on previous limerick page. See there MAD please
On the hour, every Brit sips his tea
On land, in the air, or at sea
Be it six, ten, or two
down goes the Typhoo
from the teapot ‘neath the cosy
I wonder do they need to pee
At seven, eleven and three
When the toilets start flushing
does the ocean start rushing
Or is it the tide, well maybe!
Trump’s asked to be perfectly frank.
But why? (He’s just drawing a blank.)
The whole ‘Art of the Deal’
Is to keep it unreal,
And his lies are what’s raising his rank.
I was self-medicating ― six beers! ―
‘Cause Ms. Palin had moved me to tears.
Brew’s my beverage of choice
For that skull-splitting voice:
I pour it straight into my ears.
The sarge in the tank ate a frank
Both the sarge and the tank smelled quite rank
When their foe caught the smell
They fired off a shell
Now there’s one less in their rank
I knew a man named Frank
Who always, always stank
I gave him some soap
The kind on a rope
The funeral’s at noon in Burbank
I realize and I must be frank
My glasses? My mind drew a blank.
It’s not a thick head.
It’s the yummy wheat bread.
Must give it up. SIGH! My heart sank.
A soda pop expert once said,
“In Florida, things that I dread
Are Pepsi and Coke.
Their taste is a joke.
I prefer Pennsacola instead.”
Quit my job at the plant. If you’re guessing
Why I did it, I now am confessing
That to crush soft drink cans
Didn’t fit in my plans.
And besides, it was soda pressing.
Coca-cola has seen the demand
For its soft drinks drop lower than planned.
The employees were told
Of events to unfold:
That a lot of them soon would be canned.
There’s a soft drink that people say stokes them.
Don’t withhold The Real Thing; it provokes them.
You should know that for sure
They are easy to lure.
All it takes is a bottle to Cokes them.
Class went to the Pepsi plant, ’tis
The place where they saw lots of fizz.
When they got back to school,
Teacher acted un-cool
By giving them all a pop quiz.
We went to Long Island and had some tea
Just Daisy, (the missus and me)
First things got hazy
Then I went crazy
They don’t serve that drink here in Kankakee
Mad:
I put in too many syllables in the last limerick: Next try
We went to Long Island and had tea
Just Daisy (the missus and me)
First things got hazy
Then I went crazy
They don’t serve that in Kankakee
There’s a drink that we used to call “Sherry”,
It’s not a bad way to get merry,
But wine law now says
If it’s not from Jerez
It’s “Apera” – is that foolish? Very!
There was a young fellow named Frank
Whose hair was both matted and lank.
Those who ventured too near him
Were driven to shear him,
As, to put it politely, it stank.
A woman who liked a good spank
Was ugly, to be brutally frank,
But the curve of her bum
Was appealing to some
And she improved, the more that they drank.
At Christmas, three jokesters to thank
Who were planning on pulling this prank
This year’s a bit stranger
For there at the manger
Are Mr. Gold, Murray, and Frank.
A fellow named Homer had woes
Which he’d drown in his liquor at Moe’s
Were his troubles so large
That he couldn’t tell Marge?
He’s a man of a million d’ohs.
When Carly says, “Let me be Frank.”
It isn’t just part of some prank.
She’s in Iowa to grok us
And prove she can caucus
As well as the men of her rank!
When I was young, we’d have a Coke
We would dance the hop and always joke
Now I’m old
And truth be told
I tried it again and had a stroke
the tripe and the beef lips both stank
the slurry was runny and rank
though that’s what he ate
then drank some phosphate
and soon he will poop out a frank
If Donald Trump won an Oscar:
“To be honest and perfectly frank,
There’s nobody here I should thank.
My director can boast
He wasn’t the most
Intelligent sperm in the bank.”
Mad, the line above should read “If Donald Trump won an Oscar”
(From MBK: Fixed.)
Oktoberfest weekend was here,
With music and lots of good beer.
But some who had chosen
To wear lederhosen
Ate too many brats, it is clear.
Now let us be perfectly frank,
if you’re looking for girls to spank,
whatever you call them
as you overhaul them,
it’s you who is really the skank…
I once met the actor LeBlanc
while standing in line at the bank.
He was carrying a cat
which made me say, “Matt,
your pussy smells kind of dank.”
A Congressman named Barney Frank
Said, “Enough! You can’t screw us, Big Bank!”
So he and Chris Dodd
Joined together, by God,
And they crafted an act of first rank.
Slings and arrows came from their right flank,
All the cranks soon declared the bill stank.
But Barney just laughed.
“Next time you’ll get the shaft
As the door of your jail cell goes clank.”
Alas, AIG schemer Hank
(Mr. Greenberg) avoided the tank.
To us it’s unnerving
That one so deserving
Goes free when he shoulda been sank.
There was an old man called Frank
Whose breath was terribly rank
He ate flies with blue cheese
Frogs legs with fleas
So now you can see why it stank!
I can’t have wine, beer, or hard booze
Juice and coffee, I have to refuse.
I’ll do what I oughta
And stick to clean wata.
Must do this; it’s not what I choose.
Little Miss Muffet was frank.
“Was that curds and whey that I drank?”
I replied “Open wider.
You’re drinking bee cider.
And don’t say, ‘It’s tough’-it’s a prank!”
I know of a ship maker, Frank,
Who applied for a loan at the bank.
He was too far in debt.
Loan’s denied. You can bet
That his ship building company sank.
Teenagers like to drink stuff that’s green
They always think it’s really keen
It gives them zest
To thoroughly ingest
A beverage that’s mostly filled with caffeine
“Here’s my finger, kids, give it a yank!”
Said old mischievous fun Uncle Frank
His hole must be nappin’
‘Cause nothing would happen
When one kid did give it a crank.
“Again!” he said, squeezing his flank
But it backfired, this favorite prank
‘Cause he let down his guard
As he pushed way too hard
Oh that liquid fart sure as hell stank!
The kids screamed, his mind was a blank
Now his status as clown’s in the tank
His Fruit of the Loom
Has met up with its doom
He had no one but himself to thank.
That prank that sank poor Uncle Frank
Just drove him to drink, so he drank
He just can’t redeem
His beleaguered esteem
As his diaper hangs down to his shank.
An outlaw named James, first name Frank
Walked nervously into a bank
And instead of a gun
He had pulled out a bun
And his chances for wealth quickly shrank.
“‘Tween your buns let me place this big frank”
Said the old hot dog vendor who stank
(I know what you’re thinking
Your ethics are shrinking)
She paid him two bucks with a thank.
A big, half-ton sailor named Frank
Stank so bad, so was told, “Walk the plank!”
When he got to the edge
He got stuck in a wedge
The ship tipped, took on water and sank.
Jack and Jill up the hill’s riverbank
Jill had tripped, her skirt ripped past her flank
Well, down fell Jack’s jaw
When her tushy he saw
His pants dropped and out popped his l’il frank.
Jack and Jill up the still to get whiskey
Jill fell down, ripped her gown, Jack got frisky
Laid a hand on her breast
So she kicked in his chest
Stupid boy, should have known it was risky.
A thirsty young rascal named Wilson,
Ran up a large tab drinking Pilsen
When he got up to leave
The barkeep grabbed his sleeve,
“You’re not leaving ’til you’ve paid your bill, son.”
~ Obviously he was trying to walk the Czech ~
The corn dog would probably rank
As my fav’rite fair food. You can bank
On its growing much fatter
Once cooked in that batter —
An uncircumcised Nathan’s frank!
There once was a time Pinot Noir
Was the premier red grape of the Loire
But for years it’s been known
As the best of Bourgogne
And I think I will drink some ce soir.
OOPS!
Uncle Joe possessed much intelligence
One could even call him elegant
But when he had too much booze
He undressed and took a snooze
But was released on “insufficient evidence”
A crazed drunken driver named Alice,
Sipped much green liqueur from a chalice
And while in her stupor
She killed a state trooper
Her lawyer pled, “Absinthe of malice.”
A pornography writer named Dot’ll
Agonize over each tit and jottle
She will quit for a smoke,
Drink a cold twelve ounce Coke
And then diddle herself with the bottle.
There once was a fellow named Neal
Whose stomach was huge, made of steel
He could drink so much Yuengling
The brothers named Ringling
Hired Neal for his sideshow appeal.
After drinking a bottle of Bailey’s
Saw a comet, I swear it was Halley’s.
Saw the man in the moon
And some snowflakes in June
And some cats playing small ukuleles.
But when I had some tonic and gin
You approached me just wearing a grin
As I suddenly coughed
All my clothes just fell off
Oh my gosh! I’ve been destined to sin!
After that, we both had us some beer
Then you bit at the lobe of my ear
A hole did ensue
And much smaller I grew
As I flew in the blue atmosphere.
Social workers will tell you, “Don’t spank!
It is cruel to the child, let’s be frank!”
But what they need to learn
Is that’s how children turn
All the tables, take power and rank.
. . . Dear Madeleine, let me be frank.
I wrote out some poems and they stank.
I just can’t complete
This poetical feat
In a manner which doesn’t turn rank.
Jack and Jill up the hill to fetch water
Jill would yearn just to learn what Jack taught her
What is taking so long?
It’s been nine months; what’s wrong?
Oh look! HERE they come with their new daughter!
I can remember back in the day
Coffee was simply black or au lait
Now we’ve choices galore
Deciding’s a chore
Just give me a plain cup of café!
When I think of my marriage to Frank
I tend to draw a blank
Our sex was a joke
He’d give me a poke
And say, “Darling, just give it a yank”
My folks named me Francis
And that really stank
The kids called me Sissy
And some called me Missy
Now that I’m forty, I changed it to Frank
If you take some orange juice and Mountain Dew
And mix it together through and through
You’ll have an interesting drink
And be tickled pink
It’s actually called a “Comfortable Screw”
Yoo-Hoo is always tasty to drink
It always seems to make you think
Of when life was fun
And your homework was done
And no one went to see a shrink
The four major food groups to choose
Which would have the best raving reviews
Would be barbecued meat
Used by fingers to eat
Then comes chocolate, then pasta, then booze!
I heard Alcoholics Anonymous
Has its clients no longer synonymous
With ‘addict,’ ‘drunk,’ ‘boozer’
Or ‘wino,’ or ‘loser’
Don’t see them as being so ominous.
The courage it takes to admit
Means you WANT change and do give a shit
The pow’r to possess
A return to success
Always has been within you! Don’t quit!
Ev’ry day, I drink juice from a fruit
All the benefits, you can’t dispute
Since then my number two
Is a smooth-flowing poo
And it helps hearts, fights cancer, to boot.
A wino who slept on a bench
Just reeked with a terrible stench
He dreamt he did hassle
A maid in the castle
And roared, “Fetch me wine now, you wench!”
Grabbed her bottom and sloshed her a kiss
And he pressed for her chest, but he’d miss
She splashed wine in his face
Put the bum in his place
But he woke to the stream of dog piss.
For a woman, the label is “skank”
If not “slut”, “whore” or [fill in the blank].
If a man sleeps around
He hears no worse than “hound.”
Double standards shame Fran but not Frank.
I know you might remember this one from a past contest, but it’s too relevant (BEVERAGE) to stay buried. Besides, it never won – it sank like a frank in a tank, so I’ll just bring it to the surface one last time…
For insomnia there is a cure
Of that I am perfectly sure
Unconscious, unstable
I’m under the table
Just after two shots of liqueur.
I get sleepy and lose all my spunk
And my friends all call me a cheap drunk
I would if I could
Stay awake like I should
But my good reputation is sunk.
ANOTHER BEVERAGE: MORE POTENT
If you take some tequila and Mountain Dew
And mix it together through and through
You’ll get an interesting drink
And be tickled pink
It is commonly known as “Comfortable Screw”
When you dine
You must have some wine
It will help you de-stress
So you couldn’t care less
That your date is completely asinine
I am not one of those alcoholics
If you hear I drink beer, then it’s bollocks
I still go to the bar
Spy on women who are
And take home one who’s frisky and frolics.
Well that frisky l’il hot alcoholic
Her pumping is pretty hydraulic
And when all the fun
Is finally done
She’ll go home and you’ll be melancholic.
A francophone fellow named Frank
Loved French cuisine; French wine he drank
To his lover he’d play
The piano all day
Playing “Leaves on the Seine” riverbank.
My wife is quite a looker
And also a very good cooker
At night me and Rosita
Have rum with Margarita
A drink known as “Mexican Hooker”
Mad I think it sounds better as THE Mexican Hooker
Adding the word “The” ?
From MBK: No, you don’t have room for that extra syllable.
A predator, evil and psyched
Gave the poor girl a drink that was spiked
Pretty soon there was trouble
When she would see double
“I met you two once when we hiked!”
She didn’t get giddy or sleepy
One moment all smiles, the next weepy
She’d scream, then she’d laugh
Rip her beef frank in half
So he left. She was acting too creepy.
Our children are looking divine.
‘Neath the chuppah, two families entwine.
But the rabbi looks stressed
As I make this request:
“Has Your Holiness more of this wine?”
I was white-water rafting with Frank
(That rich asshole I married who drank).
Well, he drowned when we flipped;
My composure just slipped,
Cuz I laughed all the way to the bank.
Some might say I had gone a bit far
When I crashed through the door in my car,
Hit the wall with a thud,
And demanded more Bud:
My drunkenness razes the bar.
You might need a dictionary while reading this, or better yet, just google and click, ‘Manias’
A male aphrodisiomaniac
Was searching for what? Nymphomaniac!
But she drank like a fish
It was never his wish
To be stuck with a drunk dipsomaniac.
So he prayed for a new andromaniac
You know, something like cytheromaniac
Well, he got one all right
But she preached through the night
He had found a parousiamaniac.
His next catch — a choreomaniac
Though he thought she was ecdemomaniac
She was dancing and hopping
And bippity bopping
She’d dance without stopping, away off track.
Now next he hoped — edeomaniac
But no! Just a damn oenomaniac
She’d drink only wine
From midnight to nine
He’ll become erotodromomaniac.
So our unfulfilled satyromaniac
Soon after, became lypemaniac
His pickup skills are
A big failure by far
In the end, he was just chiromaniac.
Infant screaming, wife weaning, his quest
For peace and for quiet? – “We’re blessed
I know, but the crying
Makes me wish you’d stop trying.
Don’t you think you could give it a breast?”
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 Beverage-Themed Limerick Winner, the Facebook Friends’ Choice Award Winner, and to the Honorable Mention winners: Limerick-Off Award 245.
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Tact.