Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: BEAT or BEET 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 BEAT or BEET 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 EDUCATION, using any rhyme scheme. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best EDUCATION-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 March 6, 2016, 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, March 5, 2016 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my limerick:
A gal who looked red as a beet,
Was beat from a race in the heat.
Her attempt at unseating
The leader was fleeting;
She tripped and fell down on her seat.
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, Racing Humor, Running Humor, Writing Prompts
I have to confess that a beet
Is not something that I like to eat.
Their flavor I hate.
Keep them off of my plate
And just give me a big hunk of meat!
The smell of a pie can’t be beat
Apple or pumpkin, a treat
In fluffy crust pastry
Mixed berry is tastry
Pecan or a Key Lime’d be sweet!
Lolita, she tried to look swee
Her cute, youthful smile can’t be beat
She was such a looker
though dressed like a hooker
but boy could she service the fleet
The drummer can’t carry a beat
His hands don’t keep time with his feet
He can’t count to four,
and oy vey, what’s more….
his drum kit stool’s missing the seat!
The professor, a lovely young lass
Always had lots of guys in her class.
But then soon they would cop out,
One by one, they would drop out,
‘Cause the class was a pain in the ass.
Johnny was looking to beat
something that wasn’t his meat
He tried chasing girls
and gave few twirls
but none of them could quite compete
That song that goes “Give me the beet….”
Reminds me of this simple treat
That I make for myself
(Beats the stuff off the shelf) –
Balsamic with beets: sour and sweet.
A young lady fell down on the street
And promptly turned red as a beet
And it is no wonder–
She wore nothing under
Her skirt. For the boys — what a treat!
Every day, she attended a school
Did her homework, obeyed every rule
It is not so mundane
Neither is it insane
‘Cause today she is nobody’s fool.
Like chameleons performing a feat
We can easily turn red as a beet
Or as white as a sheet
Or as gray as concrete
Or just pea green with envy, how neat!
…Or purple with boiling mad heat
Or orange like carrots we eat
Or yellow with jaundice
Or blue when unconscious
We’re rainbows encased in raw meat.
With no brother to help him to cheat,
Jeb admits that he’s finally beat.
And his web site? He blew it,
Forgot to renew it –
“I bought it!” jeers Trump in a tweet.
The Sugar-Plum Fairy looked sweet,
But she kept tripping over her feet.
The music was jerky,
The rhythms were quirky;
The conductor was missing the beat.
“Oh, my God! I am dying!” I bleat,
“There is blood in my pee! I’m dead meat!”
But the doctor said “Nope,
It’s just beetroot, you dope”,
So from now on, I’ll stop eating beet.
(A lock of John Lennon’s hair has sold for $35,000)
The hairdresser did the elite;
John Lennon’s locks fell at his feet.
He kept them as planned
And made thirty-five grand
From the hair of a famous dead Beat.
Harper Lee (author of “To kill a mockingbird)
With one novel, she joined the elite,
Won a Pulitzer (that’s quite a feat)
While Ginsberg and Burroughs
Were ploughing their furrows –
Though, of course, she’s not read as a beat.
In the morning, my wife likes to greet
Me by saying, “Sit down and let’s eat.
In the kitchen I toiled
Making eggs. They’re hard-boiled
‘Cause I know that they’re real hard to beat.”
A policeman I know who’s named Pete
Plays the drums in a band that’s elite.
When he won an award,
Many accolades poured
‘Cause the cop’s good at keeping the beat.
The new “superfood” is the beet.
I’ve heard that’s the word on the street.
The ads make it seem
As if beets are a dream.
Well, at least they don’t contain wheat.
A lively young teacher named Cass
Was showing her dance moves with sass.
But while she was twerking,
Smart phones were lurking;
A gift for the boys in the class.
The crimson glow comes from a beet
My smile is so lovely and sweet
My cherry-red lips
Just beg for a kiss
Let’s be passionate and indiscrete.
The guy was exhausted; was beat,
Clearing snow, it continued to sleet.
The snow piling high,
His plans went awry
He finally quit in defeat.
I have a Masters and friends always look
At my diploma in my “achievement nook”
With so much education
And profound determination
Why can’t I balance my damn check book?
The mavens of limericks are hard to beat
Each week I strive and face defeat
But one day I’ll win
And wear a proud grin
But for the time being, I’ll take the heat
Our friend gave us a high-bred dalmatian
We sent him to dog school for a full education
But he pooped on the floor
And made a hole in the door
Now Chauncey is on probation
At college I received much information
Sadly, though, no sex education
My date said, “It’s okay”
So we sneaked away
And I succeeded to increase the world population
The drummer was such an elite;
A magician with furious feet.
When challenged, he’d say
“Although you can play,
Forget it – you can’t meet my beat.”
A horny young frat boy named Ryan
Had lusted for Meghan O’Brien.
When he sexted a pic,
She thought it was Nick;
They’re dating now – Ryan is cryin’.
When the sun got too hot on the street
We just had to get out of the heat.
Made a trip to the ocean
And splashed on lots of lotion
But we still got as red as a beet!
The Republican party elite
Just suffered another defeat.
Their choices have lost
At considerable cost
To a blowhard nobody can beat.
While women may walk down the street
And dream that a date would be sweet
We men may make merry
By popping a cherry
And saying, “it cannot be beet.”
A math professor is rating
The colleague he’d like to be dating.
His analysis said
He could take her to bed
But she can’t think he’s too calculating.
My short career as a teacher
I taught for six months, quite a feat.
A thug had attempted to beat
The brains out of his prof.
When they carried him off,
I took over his class – NOT a treat!
(This is a true story. A large and brutal sixteen-year-old thug believed that the Englsh teacher had been eyeing his girlfriend in a meaningful way. So he waited for the teacher outside the classroom and smashed him repeatedly over the head with a heavy chair. I was a “supply teacher”, so I was asked to take over the class for the months that the teacher was hospitalized. I was never actually molested, but they were a pretty frightening bunch. It was my first and last experience of teaching.)
She was quite undeniably neat,*
And she moaned as I sucked on her teat.
Her pleasure was growing,
Her juices were flowing …
Fresh milk really cannot be beat.
(* Neat: noun. An animal of the genus Bos; a bovine, as a cow or ox. In the words of the Schweppes ad, “What did you expect?”)
(This is an old one, but I thought I’d give it another airing since it’s on the theme of education)
“You shouldn’t say ‘us’ll’, but ‘we’ll’ ”,
The teacher done tell us – big deal!
Young rednecks like us,
Why, us don’t give a cuss.
’Cuz us’ll get richer than she’ll.
WOMEN AND EDUCATION
If you know about Thoreau
And Edgar Allen Poe
You better be busty
And exceptionally lusty
‘Cause guys don’t give a crap what you know
CALLING MEL BROOKS!
An upcoming cinema treat
Might be “Spaceballs, Part 2, Meet the Fleet.”
Its tagline, “It’s true;
When the borscht is with you,
Then the Empire is easy to beet.”
As she was strolling down the street
Twang! Her knickers fell to her feet
Amidst loud applause
She retrieved her draws
Cheeks burning the colour of beet
A LESSON IN REALITY
The physicists had a huge spat
In their quantum entanglement chat.
One delivered this lesson:
“If you are caught messin’,
You’ll end up like Schrödinger’s cat.”
Then Heisenberg entered the fray.
“I’m uncertain it’s true what you say.
You have no compunction
To use your wave function.
My matrices carry the day.”
Was one of them on the right track?
I admit I was taken aback
When Pauli was puzzled
And both men were muzzled.
He said, “We must query Dirac.”
“Let’s add Relativity here,”
The Englishman said to a cheer.
But his math raised a clatter.
“What is this? Antimatter?
Outlandish, and yet it is clear.”
The squabbling continues today.
Quantum weirdness is true, come what may.
The results provide traction.
That famed “spooky action”
That Einstein decried won’t go ‘way.
A drag race took place on the street
Pink slips were at risk as they meet
Ivan lost to the Porche
Using a fuel of borscht
It was an unfortunate way to get beet
When my snowshoe bunny named Pete
Was searching for something to eat
He asked for a carrot
From Polly the parrot
She repeated without skipping a beat
I enjoy having veggies to eat,
But sometimes I just want some meat.
By replacing the beta
Vulgaris, I made a
Beef borscht and did not miss one beet.
Her face would turn red as a beet;
At a party, she happened to meet
An ex-lover who said
She was epic in bed
And he’d pay her again to repeat.
A new limerick’s never complete
‘Til I get the right rhythm or beat.
When I’m trying to rhyme
The right words, it takes time.
It can be tough to make the ends meet.
My poems have real lousy beat.
I’m not ready, just now, to retreat.
I will not give up yet;
My persistence is set.
I won’t yield or admit to de-feet.
My limericks sometimes do cheat
When cadence does not seem to meet.
Though the words all do rhyme,
Metric feet are a crime.
Would you say that my verse is off-beat?
Said Red Radish to her friend Beet
“I’m Queen Vegie here” in her tweet
Corn said “real corny”
Trumpet vine, “horny”
Mary C picked them both, to eat
At age fourteen Buford had it made
Three was a charm in the 4th grade
Some say he’s dumb
While others aplomb
His hot teacher gave up the charade
She was strutting her stuff on the street.
“Get in!” said the cop on the beat,
“It’s clear that you’re hooking,
So guess who I’m booking?”
“Okay”, she said. “In the back seat?”
He squeezed a cooked beet on his seat
Dripped like blood all the way to his feet
He just did it for fun
As he called 911
Paramedics came in a heartbeet.
Only beets were all what she would eat
When he wined her and dined her, how sweet
When he asked, “Valentine
Would you like to be mine?”
She said, “Yes darling, in a heartbeet!”
Getting child support is a great feat
Hard as getting beer out of a teat
Fathers just hide away
So they don’t have to pay
I’m so sick of dads who are deadbeat.
WOMEN AND EDUCATION: SMALL CORRECTION (IN CAPS)
If you’re an EXPERT on Thoreau
And Edgar ALLAN Poe
You better be busty
And EXTREMELY lusty
‘Cause guys don’t give a crap what you know
AN ALMOST-PERFECT WIFE
My wife’s cooking can’t be beat
As a housekeeper, she’s extremely neat
She dresses in style
But all the while
She has the world’s smelliest feet
It occurs when I’m tired and beat
Trite words creep in my posts and tweets
Words mundane and cliché
But at the end of the day
If the shoe fits, I rinse, wash, repeat.
At a couple’s retreat, Mary Jo
Said there’s plenty they needed to know.
She told the instructor
That Fred’s never fucked her
For more than a minute or so.
A teacher named Mary Letourneau
Apparently thought that there were no
Reasons to wait;
Her student she’d date
And touch off a raging inferno.
I remember when flying was neat;
An adventure that couldn’t be beat.
But if airlines today
Could have it their way,
They’d charge you to lower your seat.
Well, if you ignore education
And stifle your kids’ innovation
You’ll be prone to regression
And cause a recession
And end up destroying your nation.
She trembled beneath the white sheet
She, a virgin, all proper and meek
Her dagger she drew
He quickly turned blue
But the sheet was as red as a beet
Writing lim’ricks is fun and it’s neat
It is not such a difficult feat
Sense of humor will do
Meter, rhyme, scansion too
Like a song, you just go with the beat.
Some believe higher ed. is a mess.
Some think it’s okay more or less.
I know there are pros.
There are cons I suppose,
But professing is fun I confess.
School teachers are hired to teach
But the odd one is tempted to preach
That’s what churches are for
So kick them out the door
For the contract they thought they could breach.
First day of school – teachers – can’t choose ’em
Have to take what you get – can’t refuse ’em
Well, the boys were quite glad
For the teacher they had
Had long hair and a buxomy bosom.
Big eyes and eyelashes, thick lips
Tiny waistline toward swinging hips
Her high heels (spiky pegs)
Sprouted long curvy legs
To a transparent skirt with no slips.
Well, that screwed up the boys’ concentration
Losing focus on their education.
But each test, each assignment
Was straight in alignment
With grades to gain her admiration.
After school, a suave, cocky schoolboy
Hoped that she would take him as her toy
She said “I want a man
Not a cute Peter Pan
So it isn’t a plan I’d enjoy.”
“And while YOU are still wiping your booger
You expect me to just be your cougar?!
I could pass for your momma
Don’t wanna cause trauma
I’d rather shoot flies with a Luger.”
Oh, his ego did take a bad fall
He’s too green, young and dumb, after all
And infatuated
Hormone-activated
Too scandal-related – bad call!
Hi Mad… Could you please (and thank you) put the following limerick in the above saga so that it’s the second last verse? Thanks!
“And while YOU are still wiping your booger
You expect me to just be your cougar?!
I could pass for your momma
Don’t wanna cause trauma
I’d rather shoot flies with a Luger.”
From MBK: Done.
He saw her – his heart skipped a beat;
Then awkwardly shuffled his feet.
How amazing that he
Could possibly be
Running into a star on the street!
It was just a few seconds or so
That he felt that celebrity glow.
Their eyes barely met,
But he’ll never forget
The moment Adele said “Hello.”
When Windows won’t work and you’re beat,
And you think you are facing defeat,
Do not lose your cool.
Remember the rule:
When in doubt, press Control-Alt-Delete.
It looks like Trump just can’t be beat
What he’s doing is quite a feat
I think I’ll cry
Or say bye-bye
If he wins the presidential seat.
If you’ve got a poor education
Your life can be filled with frustration.
So you believe lies
Fellow workers despise;
For oppressors, you’ve got adulation.
STRESSBUSTERS
If you’re stressed out and there’s no retreat
Finding some relief’s not such a feat
Just stomp on the floor
Go ahead, slam the door!
Get some eggs (two or more) you can beat.
Play floor hockey in your backstreet
Play hard as you try to compete
And if you should lose
A new game you can choose
Kick the soccer ball blues with your feet.
Hammer nails in a big drywall sheet
Take a shotgun and let’s go shoot skeet
Then go chase a rabbit
Your pot roast – just stab it
Yes, make it a habit – beat meat!
Run like hell till it’s sweat you secrete
Dive in water, and swear in the heat
If they censor and ban you
Take crap from no man, you
Let shit hit the fan, so excrete!
If someone you know is a cheat
Just tell ’em and don’t be discreet
Revenge in a letter
Will make you feel better
When joined with a court summons sheet.
Reward yourself with a nice treat
When you know your stress-busting’s complete
And your ice is defrosted
You’re tired and exhausted
No penny it costed, how sweet!
(oh wait… in case you think the court summons costed you a penny or more, make sure you sue ’em for court costs too! Harhar! There ya go!)
Said the co-ed, “It’s true that I’m slow
To learn skills that I really should know.
But with good education,
My Prof for Fellation
Is getting me there, blow by blow.”
He had won the dick-contest at school,
And he spoke of his prize-winning tool:
“It is true that my schlong
Is twelve inches long,
But it never gets used as a rule.”
(Yeah, an old joke)
A confident fellow named Bart
Decided to model for art.
As the very first class
Was sketching his ass,
He neglected to stifle a fart.
“I’m sorry” he said with a smirk;
“This posing is frustrating work.’
When he did it again,
The instructor said “Then
Let’s label this drawing ‘The Jerk’…”
A dancing instructor named Jonas
Met Lynn at a club called The Onus.
Now they really groove;
She knows how to move
And is great in the sack as a bonus.
Bud the Butcher, who lives up the street,
Claims his love life is so hard to beat.
But he found out from Jill
That without the blue pill,
There’s no market for Bud’s boneless meat.
At the conclusion of my education
My parents were thrilled with elation
I had a four year fling
I did my own thing
Then mama said, “Where’s the ring?”
Cheerleading can’t be beat
But I didn’t attend every meet
I jumped in the air
Twisted with flair
And landed on my sore blistered feet
A geometry teacher wrangles
With a student who’s daft and mangles
A good lesson on life:
To reduce lots of strife,
Look at things from some different angles.
A geometry teacher named Rex
One day plotted a capital X
On a graph, after he
Had drawn letters S E.
Was arrested. The charge? Graphic sex.
A geometry teacher named Brent
Liked to frolic in sun, so he went
To a place he could play
At the seashore all day.
He returned from the beach a tan gent.
Back in the 50’s the teachers were great
You might even say “first rate”
They were very smart
Bless their heart
But their stockings were never on straight
When you eat a beet
It’s quite a lovely treat
It’s very nutritious
And quite delicious
But your teeth will look like concrete
Growing up in the streets was a pain,
Though it taught me a lot in the main.
I’ve accrued education
With no formal foundation,
But I say that my school was two lane.
Most people one sees who are learned
Have college degrees I once spurnèd,
Like BCITs,
DNPs, and JDs.
At McDonald’s, for these, I have yearnèd.
She thinks studying’s hard, so instead
She lures each of her profs into bed
Where she actively crams
For her oral exams:
She’s advanced to the class of the head.
When missing your homework in school,
Remember the number one rule,
When teacher walks in,
Don’t wear a big grin,
Don’t burp, mumble, cough, scratch or drool.
The Donald continues to beat
Republicans still on their feet.
Unleashing his tools,
Misogyny rules;
Pandemonium strikes the elite.
The new fifth grade teacher, quite buxom,
Was hooked on the sauce, so she snuck some
Into the back room
Between her bosom
Where she let the custodian suck some
My web class on animals stinks
I’m learning of dogs, rats, and minks
But I’m a cat guy
And thus I decry:
This site doesn’t have any lynx!
A teacher should know how to teach;
A preacher on Sundays will preach.
But creatures won’t creach
And features don’t feach
Though sometimes a bleacher can bleach.
The campaign had started to slump;
And then it collapsed in a clump.
While Christie was spurned,
His new job, we’ve learned –
A brand new apprentice for Trump.
1960’S TYPE WRITING CLASS
Miss Jones directed “AAA”
Two weeks later it was “EEE”
Now with my computer
I need a clever tutor
So the letters won’t abruptly fly away
I must say I’m totally beat
Buying groceries with hubby, Pete
He gets everything wrong
But still schleps along
Buying chicken instead of prime meat
My history teacher, Miss Beckons
Traveled in time once, she reckons
To her huge surprise
While eating some fries
She realized she’d gone back four seconds
A seamanship teacher I know
Was once a vile thief long ago
While out on the wharf
He pick-pocketed a dwarf
I marveled that he stooped so low!
To attend Graduate School
We had to know about art: it was the rule
But now the trend
Could make your hair stand on end
Kids learn about works made with stool
My girlfriend prepared me a treat,
Which I tried… and I just couldn’t eat.
But what could I say,
With her watching that way?
“Ummm, this borscht simply cannot be beet!”
Mr. Trump, without missing a beat,
Responds to the press with a tweet:
“I did not recognize
David Duke. No surprise:
Ol’ Dave wasn’t wearing his sheet!”
“Ignore all the agonized groans
From the classroom,” said Principal Jones.
“A Standardized Test
Is the method that’s best
To make useful and ignorant drones.”
“Gee, these Texas school textbooks are great!
Let’s use them in every state!
Now, ev’ryone: look
In your Chemistry book
At Leviticus 12, 5 through 8…”
Now Marco is feeling the heat;
He just doesn’t know how to beat
His rivals who know
You can’t steal the show
With bullshit that’s stuck in repeat.
SENIOR CITIZEN’S DANCE
Did you hear that crazy beat?
It makes me want to move my feet!
We can do the jive
It’s only five
Ooops! I forgot, it’s time to eat!
1960’s TYPING CLASS
Miss Jones:”All pinkies on A-A-A-”
Then “Left third finger on E-E-E
Now with my computer
I need a clever tutor
So the letters won’t abruptly fly AWAAAAAY!
CORRECTION
I must say I’m totally beat
Grocery shopping with hubby, Pete
He gets everything wrong
But still schleps along
Buying chicken instead of meat
BETTER LIMERICK
Back in the 50’s, the teachers were great
One might even say they were surely first-rate
They were very smart
Bless their heart
But the seams in their stockings were never straight
When writing a lim’rick that’s neat
Watch your rhythm, your tempo, your beat
Along with your rhyme
Check it out one more time
Before posting it, don’t just repeat.
First write it all out on a sheet
After reading instructions complete
Near the top of this page
Do a click and engage
Of Mad’s “How to Write” one (no big feat!)
Then in time , you won’t feel such defeat
As you properly write and compete
Extra effort pays off
As your lim’rick takes off
‘Cause you’ll soon win the contest, how sweet!
A drummer should know how to beat
All the heads, even some with his feet.
Adding rat-a-tat-tats
When he’s tapping the hats
While he sits on a throne for a seat.
That Trump University stink
Might be bigger than most people think.
Allegations of fraud
Are increasingly broad;
The namesake could land in the clink.
There once was a zombie named Pete,
A drummer who had a complete
Lack of talent, and so
As you probably know,
His friends would all call him Deadbeat.
She’s a teacher of music, a tutor,
With a nickname that really does suit her.
It is very well-known
That she farts when alone,
So they call her a private tooter.
At math, pirate’s way above par.
He said to his teacher named Char,
“The circumference, you see,
Of a circle must be
An equation that reads 2 pi arrrrrr!”
She taught law, and practiced in Wheeling
Her client was on trial for stealing
Found guilty! Oh My!
Then her hand touched his thigh,
Soon after, he found her appealing
But this law-teaching woman from Wheeling
Lost his case, so you’d think he’d be reeling
But it seems he cares more
That he’ll possibly score
From the hand on his thigh that he’s feeling.
I’ve always tried hard to look neat.
It’s hard to do, dressed in a sheet.
But sometimes I cough,
And the sheet falls off.
I end up as red as a beet.
My Cardinals cannot be beat
When traveling down baseballs street.
But sometimes they lose,
And I toss my shoes.
It is really hard on my feet.
My senior neighbors always repeat
The very same things each time we meet
They complain of pains
Misplace their canes
Otherwise they’re hard to beat
My son had a college education
And was honored with awards at graduation
We were so proud
We cheered out loud
He works close by at the new gas station
Thrash wheat if it’s bread you would eat.
Flail rice for a granular treat.
Is smoothness your dream?
Then try whipping cream.
But for sweetness you cannot beat beet.
The philosophy class had him beat.
“I don’t like abstract concepts!” he’d bleat.
“I Kant grasp them at all!”
He then punched a brick wall.
That abstraction’s now much more concrete.
A teacher’s aide known as Ms. Hardees
Would screw for a glass of Bacardi’s
For just half a glass
You could diddle her ass
And save your Bacardi’s for parties
Oh yes! He was reeling in Wheeling
Yet there was that primeval feeling
Her hand on his thigh
Made blood flow to ‘ONE EYE’
Which he had some trouble concealing
The judge, quite aware of the scene
Said: “Son, you’re only eighteen,
I know you’re not bad
Remorse can be had,
To chambers! I’ll help you come clean.”
Little Johnny grew up and sold meat
His shop had beef tongue to pig’s feet
But still, true to form
His new sign caused a storm:
OUR JERKED MEAT CANNOT BE BEAT
A science professor, Miss Bries,
Had B.O. like Limburger cheese
In the lab habitats
The dissection rats
Were even beginning to wheeze
In bio. lab, Gloria Schwerner
Oft tooted, which didn’t concern her
But after a flash
Turned her lab coat to ash,
She pointed away from the burner
A history teacher, Miss Lowes
Could not resist picking her nose
She really looked crass
In front of her class,
Proboscally speaking, that blows
They met on a gallery walk;
Then went to a cafe to talk.
She thought he was nice
And texted him twice;
But he was all backboard – no chalk.
Re: Byron Ives law teacher from Wheeling
This law teacher’s tactics were ruthless
Showed the boy’s naïve innocence, youthness
She got a bit sleazy
Knew Judge would go easy
On petty theft, though it was truthless.
Sneaky TRICKS? I do think that she planned some
Was the lad she seduced somewhat handsome?
And was justice betrayed?
Did her client get laid?
Was the judge maybe paid a king’s ransom?
RE: Suzanne Heymann
The continuing saga. Yup, many’s gettin’ boned.
The courtroom all started to slobber
For the handsome young lad with the throbber
With them licking lip
Away he did slip
Now he’s out! (and a much improved robber…)
While he was never short of ambition,
He knew thievery was his mission,
So, for even more loot
He stole a new suit
And now he’s a politician
1960’S EDUCATION
I had a college education
When women encountered frustration
We had no choice
And certainly no voice
Till our jobs caused from “brain expiration”
Mad Please change
Till our jobs CAUSED, instead of ACHED in above limerick
Thank You
(Done.)
SENIOR DANCE #2
Oh how I love that crazy beat
It makes me want to shake my feet
We danced all night
Till the early light
I went home and soaked in “You’re Obsolete”
RE: Byron Ives
This is getting juicy
Politician? Please give us a name!
We’ve got to have someone to blame
Unravel the mystery
Check out his history
Time to link crime with some shame.
My own guess might be too lame-duck
‘Cause I’m just a li’l ole’ Canuck
U.S. news on campaigning
Is so entertaining
The soap opera’s gaining some pluck.
If you really love to compete,
If you’re looking for someone to beat
Regardless of cost,
If all appears lost,
Then you’re looking for some way to cheat.
All teaching jobs I would neglect
And a big wage would have no effect
I just can’t spend a minute
With rotten brats in it
‘Cause most of them have no respect.
I would rather have menstrual cramps
Over dealing with hell-raising champs
The strap would be fine
To keep bad kids in line
Schools should be refined into boot camps.
(yeah, I’m a bitch, I know… gotta love me!)
(I was a school bus driver at one point – my inspiration)
(actually, the kids weren’t too bad… I scared them!)
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 EDUCATION-Themed Limerick Winner, the Facebook Friends’ Choice Award Winner, and to the Honorable Mention winners:
Limerick-Off Award 247.
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun:
Limerick-Off Vent.