Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: CASH or CACHE at the end of any one line (Submission Deadline: February 29, 2020)
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(s) as a comment to this post and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.
I hope you’ll join me in writing limericks using CASH or CACHE at the end of any one line. (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 themed limericks related to CLOTHING, using any rhyme word. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best CLOTHING-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 1, 2020 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 29, 2020 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my CASH/CACHE-Rhyme limerick:
I’m in a big rush and must dash
To the bank, cuz I’m all out of cash.
Then there’s lunch and a meeting
And hours of tweeting
Snide gripes — pols and neighbors to bash.
And here’s my CLOTHING-themed limerick:
A woman was totally bare;
She’d removed all her clothes on a dare,
Then shopped aroun’ town
Till a cop flagged her down.
Her excuse? “I have nothing to wear.”
Please feel free to enter my Limerick-Off by posting your limerick(s) 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: Bawdy Humor, Clothes Shopping, Competition Limerick, Law And Order, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Money Limerick, Nudity, Poetry & Prompts, Police Humor, Social Media Humor, Tweet Humor, Twitter Humor, Writing Prompts
The kraken went kaken, is said
A ship hit him smack in the head
He thought he would lash
The thing for it’s cache
But the captain was Cookey eyes dread.
All the guys used to give me a wink
When I’d sit at “The Lounge” for a drink
But I’ve stopped going there
Cuz I’ve nothing to wear
Seems that chocolate made all my clothes shrink
I gathered the leaves of a fig
To wear on my prominent rig
My wife said “That stuff
Is barely enough
To cover up something that big.”
*******
For lack of sufficient cash
I lifted some pot with a dash
But quickly I tripped
By cops I was gripped
That truly has settled my hash.
The NRA may have sent cash
From Russia to Trump’s campaign stash
Through Maria, a sparrow
Who brought the dinero,
To make a conservative splash.
Some people have way too much cash.
They make me think of things rash.
Inequity sucks
For those with no bucks
Makes my teeth go “gnash, gnash.”
Ev’ry day I just make a mad dash
To this gizmo called “ATM Cash”
What a cool slot machine
(It’s so wild and obscene)
And I WIN all the time in a flash!
Have you seen the Emperor’s new clothes?
He’s naked, every sane person knows.
His cult followers are blind,
Or their pockets, well lined,
Refuse to see the truths we expose.
While tending a gardening chore,
A T-shirt is all that he wore.
His bent-over stance
Drew a passerby’s glance;
“That’s nuts!” she was heard to implore.
Game was over, I made a mad dash
To the bank, I got there in a flash
Seems I ran out of bills
Which just gave me the chills
Cuz my bookie will only take cash
Apocalypse
There was a mad dash for the cash
Although it was nothing but trash
It’s value was zero
Trump was no hero
But no one date say he was brash.
On his hols in the East you’re afraid he
May go in some of the bars that are shady
Flirting won’t hurt
As a feel up the skirt
Will prove that his date’s not a lady
A perverted young man called Jackie
Paid for reversion ther- apy
In a specialist brothel
Where he’s fed from a bottle
Wearing rompers, a bib and a nappy
Nappy = diaper in the US
I’ve got one hell of a stash
But sadly none is in cash.
I own acres of land
Along the Rio Grande…
Oh the Feds, damn I must dash.
My daughter’s sixteen and polite
But when shopping, she’s sure no delight
She wants to look “hot”
And while at the “Clothes Spot”
She looks for a dress that’s too tight
Well, Lady Godiva was clutch,
riding naked for causes and such;
butt rubbed raw by her horse,
one conclusion, of course,
is the Lady doth protest too much.
You’re young, now don’t be rash
Be careful with all of your cash.
Now if you give it to me,
(For just a small fee),
You’ll be safe from a financial crash.
Here’s a TSA warning to heed:
If your state’s not yet legalized weed,
Expect agents to trash
All the hash in your cache.
(You’d best smoke it beforehand. Agreed?)
My pattern? I’ll buy a Size 8—
An incentive to make me lose weight.
But most of my clothing
I end up disposing.
(The pounds just quite never abate.)
“We’re heading, you say, for a crash?
Lemme tell you, there’s plenty of cash!
The economy’s fine,
And them losers who whine
Are just lib’rals and other such trash.”
My new Y-fronts are horribly wrong!
Manufactured no doubt in Hong Kong,
They are useless and silly,
Unless you’ve a willy
That’s Z-shaped and twelve inches long.
(True story. I won’t go any further into the details …)
They say Donald Trump is betrothing
A man who inspires equal loathing.
That’s Donald and Vlad,
Both vicious and bad,
A fine pair of wolves in wolves’ clothing.
The lure is those long wavy tresses –
And contours! Their shape so impresses.
These, of course, play their part,
But what captures my heart?
Her eyes as she slowly undresses.
‘Tis the folly of youth – and the rash –
To lay too great a stress upon cash.
They will boast, silly sods,
Of the size of their wads,
And decry the import of panache.
‘Tis the folly of youth – and the rash –
To lay too great a stress upon cash.
They will boast, silly sods,
Of the size of their wads,
And know nothing of brio and dash.
I went shopping to buy frozen peas;
I’d lost weight, and I started to sneeze.
The shoppers were staring
At what I was baring –
My trousers were down by my knees!
(Another true story)
(Double)
Though he carried a fortune in cash,
He laughed when they told him “That’s rash!”
For he hid all the gelt
In a thick leather belt –
Which the mugger ripped off in a flash.
He had to wear a great jacket
To conceal his potent large packet
But, with nothing beneath
Not a hint of a sheath
No one could forsee he would crack it.
Continue the kraken went Kaken
Old dread led a gang of men fed –
Up with a comfy clean bed
They wanted to Arrgh
All night at the bar
But, he made them drink grog on their head
Said the Grabber, “The girls that I snatch
Must be pretty and underage, natch.
I prefer ’em by far
When they don’t need a bra –
I could never unfasten the catch.”
She’s a beauty, with style and panache,
And I know that my ardor is rash.
Oh, to lie in her arms
And enjoy her sweet charms!
It turns out, though, I haven’t the cash.
This retirement home really rocks!
Have you met Mr. Cool? What a fox!
He’s a real sexy guy
When you see him, you’ll die
He’s the one who wears sandals with socks
Here’s My Clothing theme limerick
Sitting unladylike and posing
Head held high and her prize showing
With neighbors riled up
Her folks had enough
And in protest ripped off all their clothing!
” I need a brassiere, please, “H” cup”
“We don’t have that explain dear, whassup?”
” Well, G’s for Gigantic
Which makes the men frantic
And “H” is for “HELP! CAN’T GET UP!”
“For too long I lived life as a prude
And denounced naked bodies as rude.
Then one day, for a dare,
I laid everything bare;
Now I’m clothed in a new attitude.”
Does this qualify as a twofer?
“Even though I embraced it quite late,
Now I’m nudist, I’ve shed a great weight.
True, I can’t make a splash –
I’ve nowhere to keep cash –
But apart from that hitch, it’s just great!”
“To be nicked in the act of undressing!
It’s not only a crime, it’s distressing.
When I spied Mistress Cute
In her fine birthday suit …
Which I did, by the way, with her blessing.”
It took only one teensy glance
To realize this guy sure could dance
Yet he just wasn’t cool
Kinda’ looked like a fool
Cuz he still wore those bell bottom pants
The frat boy contracted a rash
From a cheerleader’s popular gash;
The doctor said “Sure,
I’ve got the right cure–
It’ll cost you a grand, all in cash.”
Hi Mad,
Entry at February 16, 2020 at 8:04 pm, I think “financial” in the last line would be better as “market”.
Cheers
Tim
“The philanderer Pirran Pentire
Set great store by exquisite attire.
“When I strut for my prey,
In this gorgeous array,
I am fanning the flames of desire.”
The philanthropist Vanderbilt Moore
Was devoted to helping the poor.
Till a stock market crash
Did away with his cash.
Now the poor must make room for one Moore.
Wizened roué, Carbunculous Gran,
Is the archetype ‘Dirty Old Man’.
In his mackintosh coat,
This lascivious goat,
Is still eager to prove that he can.
City whizz-kid, Sebastian Oake,
Would have nothing that wasn’t bespoke.
All his suits and his shirts,
Shoes and ties, undergirts;
And the table from which he snorts coke.
Shameless muscleman, Peregrine Schwartz,
Liked to pose in the shortest of shorts.
Then a washing temp’ rise
Left them shrunken in size,
So, he fashioned a loincloth, of sorts.
‘Tis the folly of youth – and the rash –
To lay too great a stress upon cash.
They will boast, silly sods,
Of the size of their wads,
While decrying the need for panache.
In addition to stitchwork that’s neat,
Sid, my tailor, is very discreet.
As my waistline expands,
Chalk and pins in his hands,
He pooh-poohs any talk of defeat.
“Sid’s my tailor: his stitching’s so neat.
In addition, he’s very discreet.
As my waistline expands,
Chalk and pins in his hands,
He pooh-poohs any talk of defeat.”
First effort wasn’t right.
“That I may have divested too soon
Was brought home to me roundabout noon.
He walked in with a gun,
Said, ‘Hello! Having fun?’
His arrival was not opportune.”
“If it’s true that, ‘Clothes maketh the man,’
I must get some as soon as I can.
Oh, it’s all very well,
Living au naturel,
But it sucks for my seven-year plan.”
Oh, Michael! I’ve sure bought a lot
Of clothes for our trip on the yacht
It’s now time for bed
Think I’ll stay up instead
To worry “bout what I forgot
I bought a new coat just for show
And it cost me a whole lot of dough
It got splattered with ink
All the “perps” said, “NOW THINK!!
Of that dead and poor innocent faux”
They are stripping the mountaintops bare
And polluting the streams and the air.
Mining makes a huge gash.
The small payments of cash
Are coaled comfort for residents there.
Concealed in our old family cache
lay remnants of Grandpa’s mustache.
He explained, story’s told,
“Silver threads ‘mong the gold
proves my ‘stache is worth more than just trash.”
“From my youth I’ve slept au naturel,
And till now it has worked very well.
But just lately I find
That I’m treated less kind’;
Flight attendants have sounded the knell.”
The gambler was hard-up for cash
Didn’t get it, but instead got a rash
He worked up an inch
His stomach started to twitch
Money hungry, the man felled and crash
The model loses her clothes
While walking the runway she chose
Her clothes got caught on a line
She then ran out of time
Naked her body was red as a rose
When a man in the prime of his life
Finds his urges are causing some strife,
He can bluster and gnash,
Wave goodbye to his cash,
Or grow up and go back to his wife.
“Don’t be shy,” coaxed the lady whose chest
Was incentive enough to divest.
“There is no need to fear,
We’re all naturel here.
Come with me and I’ll show you the rest.”
We’d thrown off most every rag
In our haste to get upstairs and shag
But we were caught short,
In the apartment forecourt,
As all the keys were locked in my bag.
I’m Johnathan Pritchard Esquire,
As a nude I wear no attire
But my landlady Bess,
With prejudice and duress,
Full raiment, alas, does require.
The King thought he was well arrayed,
As he marched ahead the parade.
Not to be too rude,
If he knew he was nude,
He’d be “Altogether” dismayed.
“When accepting awards for repute,
As one must when one’s efforts bear fruit,
To offset the acclaim
Now attached to my name,
I attend in my birthing day suit.”
“That I may have divested too soon
Was brought home to me roundabout noon.
He walked in with a gun,
Said, ‘Hello! Having fun?’
His arrival was inopportune.”
For some reason I thought the last line didn’t scan this way, but on reflection …
“It’s both infamous crime and distressing
To be stalled in the act of undressing.
When I spied Mistress Cute
In her fine birthday suit …
Which I did, by the way, with her blessing.”
“When accepting awards for repute,
As one must when one’s efforts bear fruit,
To offset the acclaim
That’s accrued to my name,
I attend in my birthing day suit.”
There are those for whom style wins no vote;
They’ll shop Thrift for a bargain price coat;
But for those with ‘the sense’
Cheap is no recompense;
There will always be some like it haute.
“What one wears will speak volumes, they say;
Tell, for instance, who’s straight and who’s gay.
I have four Dickie Dirts
That are pink – it means shirts –
So, I’m ready to swing either way.”
“My Size?”
“This sweater’s so cute and so sweet
The colors are bright and real neat!
It’s lovely, although
I’d sure like to know
Do you have one for people who eat?”
My new slacks aren’t really that nice
But I guess they will have to suffice
The fit is too tight
And the length isn’t right
But I couldn’t resist the low price
I must tell you, with shopping, I’m done!
Many years ago, it was sheer fun!
Now the quality’s poor
Of that I am sure
And the tag here says, “one size fits none”
Regarding her old husband’s clothing,
Her opinion was undisguised loathing;
Describing good taste
To him was a waste,
A subject that meant less than no-thing.
We’re survivors, my money and I,
And no matter the circs, we get by.
True, we’re both a bit rash
When it comes to hard cash,
But so what? Life is too short to cry.
English gents must wear suiting that fits
To avoid the opprobrious, “Twits!”
Every chap in the know
Gets his kit from the ‘Row’,
As his income or budget permits.
A spy sent a note to her chief.
How’d she do it? It beggars belief:
She inscribed it with care
On her guy’s underwear.
That’s the way she conveyed it, in brief.
When confronted with shortage of cash
Emmet Witherspoon did something rash.
He attacked an old crone
With a mind of her own;
Now he spends his days gathering trash.
Wow, I tossed my old tees from the Comic-Con,
and my hat with the heart that says, ‘Pokemon’,
rundown shoes, broken in,
all my ‘fat pants’, worn thin . . .
Now I rue that KonMari phenomenon!
My girlfriend had too much booze
And thought, “What’s there to lose?
I’ll do a quick strip…’
But she had a stuck zip
And only got as far as the shoes.
She always took baths fully dressed
Since the old window-cleaner confessed
That he emptied his bladder
And fell off his ladder
The day that he glimpsed her left breast.
The hooker took all of my cash,
Including my well-hidden stash.
I’m now quite bereft,
And all I have left
From her visit is this horrid rash.
“Hey, teller, hand over the cash”
“Take it easy, man, don’t get so brash
I just need to see
Your photo I.D.
Is that fine with you, Mr. Nash?”
Nudist group has decided to hire
Videographer so they’ll inspire
Folks to throw off their clothes,
Because everyone knows
More exposure is what they desire.
How sad that the USA chose
A PO(tu)S who every day shows
In each cynical act
That perception is fact.
We live in “The Emp’ror’s New Clothes.”
I never have very much cash
What I have is a minimal stash
But thieves still want to steal
Despite my appeal
So I take it and jump in a plash.
One job that I hate’s buying clothing
It’s a job that I do with much loathing
To make less of a chore
I drink red wine before
So walking to shop is a slow thing.
You may have been wondering why
The President wears a red tie.
Well, his owner’s a Red,
And his dog, it is said,
Will obey the commands “Heel!” and “Lie!”
An appreciation of a great comedian, who was a his best when playing a cheapskate.
The gunman declared, very brash,
“Mr. Benny, your life, or your cash!”
Funny Jack started blinking,
Raised one finger, “I’m thinking.”
And that’s why his show was a smash.
I cannot say you look svelte
As that skirt is as wide as a belt.
Thank you for sharing,
I love what I’m wearing.
I’m as comfortable as I’ve ever felt.
I’m Geoff of Amazon fame
And am going to play a small game.
If I be somewhat rash
And give a tenth of my cache
Will I get it ten times back again?
The scammer was subtly brash
In milking me of all of my cash
But he was sorry to find
I’d played a double blind
And brought him down with a crash.
Tonight is our annual prom
Once again, I am going with Tom
At this awesome “sock hop”
We wouldn’t dare swap
Cause we all met on “Mismatch Dot Com”
I think above limerick is backwards. Try again.
Tonight is our annual prom
Once again, I am going with Tom
This awesome “sock hop”
Is a good time to swap
Since we all met on “Mismatch Dot Com”
I Think Above Limerick Is Backwards. Try Again
Tonight is our annual prom
Once again, I am going with Tom
This awesome “sock hop”
Is a good time to swap
Since we all met on “Mismatch Dot Com”
I was watching a squirrel’s mad dash
As he stocked his arboreal cache.
I could hear the loud goof
Going nuts on my roof.
He’s a genuine pain in the ash.
Well, I quit my job. Was I too rash?
Cuz I don’t have a new source of cash
If I worked as a troll
I might stay off the dole
But I can’t be that loutish or brash
In his trench-coat he undid the sash
Then exposed himself; really quite brash
So she chided, opining
“You call that a lining?
Next time spend a little more cash”
There once was a man, quite a prude
In his nightmares he went around nude
But exposing his skin
Caused him so much chagrin
That he had himself fully tattooed
**********
Welcome back, Steve!!!! We’ve missed you!
Mixed Marriage
At the “sock hop” in Washington Square
The bobby and crew were aware
That their colleagues were “talking”
And snubbingly gawking
It was strange, cuz they made a nice pair
I did eight loads of laundry today
I CAN’T STAND IT! I surely must say
I saw loads nine and ten
Had to do it again
It was easy. I threw them away.
“There was a young belle of old Natchez
Whose garments were”–Stop! See, the catch is:
when exhausted by tries
and you think, ‘Plagiarize!’
It’s best if you do it in snatches.
I remember the first time I met her
And WOW! I shall never forget ‘er
So sultry and hot!
She sure hit the spot
And was wearing her blue “do me” sweater
There once was a gambler named Cash
Whose tic telegraphed his cards in a flash.
His tell was his swirl
Upon his finger it’d twirl.
Betrayed and bankrupted by his mustache.
An ecdysiast, smart as a whip,
Trolled the crowd with the following quip:
“In exchange for your payment,
I’ll doff my scant raiment.”
A fellow yelled, “THEN will you strip?”
Mama cleaned ev’ry day, till she’d bust
She scrubbed and she washed, (always fussed)
And now I’m the same
On behalf of her name
I use her old panties to dust
At the end of a harrowing day,
She doffed her clothes in the foyer.
They were all on the floor
As she walked through the door;
“Surprise…” they could barely just say.
I rushed to the mall at “The Square”
To get a new “do” for my hair
Then stopped in at “La Rose”
And bought some new clothes
That I probably never will wear
I’m looking for something real teeny
For the love of my life, Sweetheart QUEENIE
We are going to swim
But the chances are slim
That I’ll find a beefitting beekini
A Scot in a very short kilt
Said “You see I am very well built
And in my tight trews
You’ll get plenty of views
Of the sword which I keep in my hilt”
“Irregulars” Sounds like a “buy”
Let’s face it, I’m not a rich guy!
Must check out what that means
And try on these jeans
Gee! they’re comfy, but ain’t got no fly!
Certain movie scenes I always bash:
they’re the ones that involve burning cash.
Bomb a plane, torch a car,
at the stake burn the star —
but don’t make me watch cash turn to ash!
I can’t say how hard I was pressed
To go upstairs and get dressed
By the Rev, as his wife
Was causing trouble and strife…
I would say they’re a little obsessed.
Though continually clothed in scandal,
Trump seems quite able to handle
All the negative views,
By claiming Fake News,
Perpetrated by some Democrat vandal.
Unusual Acronym
My handsome and sweet honey bunny
Plays golf whether cloudy or sunny
His outfits are wacky
(Exceedingly tacky)
He always G oes O ut L ooking F unny
A boy named Sue, just five feet high
And rising, did crimes on the sly
Got caught; Folsom Prison
Where he’d died, then risen
To ghost riders up in the sky.
Ring of fire, Ira Hayes was, so brash!
Orange Blossom he caught in a flash.
Mama told all her sons,
“Please just don’t take your guns
All to town; first consult Johnny Cash!”
I hate plastic cards, ATM fees
I just pay through the nose as they please.
I pay rent on my cash
Which they hoard like a stash,
Giving me a hot flash as they seize.
Well, I beat the bank’s system of trash
Think my brainstorm is making a splash.
Checks and credit – a vice
Debit – too high a price
I use nothing but nice, cold, hard cash!
A brassiere is a cursable thing,
An uncomfortable harness/titsling.
I get home and then boom!
Free my boobs from their tomb
Whip the thing ‘cross the room with a fling!
He’d sing for nickels and dimes,
That boy who was born Johnny Symes,
One day feeling rash
He called himself Cash
And so began the good times.
I had a date to the Prom
And transport both to and from
But very sadly my gown
Was my Mum’s hand-me-down,
A sixties mini was just wrong.
The catwalk had models – all newbies
And one wore a dress made of rubies.
The top of the gown
Started slip-sliding down
Now she’s known throughout town for her boobies.
A Scot WON’T let his jewels be spilt
He wears undies beneath his fine kilt.
That’s because if a squall
Shows his thingy is small,
His poor ego will fall and just wilt.
Those self checkout counters are trash
They’re just paper-trail snoops I should smash.
On that crap I’m not sold
“I don’t work here!” I scold
And proceed to use old-fashioned cash!
I’m schizoid and saw myself nude
And one of my people’s a prude.
She went to the law,
Now here is the score,
I’m charged with behaviour that’s lewd.
It’s summer, and time for new clothes
Need a swimsuit that will not expose
My neck or my chest
And all of the rest
Except for my pedicured toes
The current Limerick-Off ends tomorrow, Saturday, at 10 pm (Eastern time.) So please get your straggler limericks in. Thanks!
A Frenchie who wore a beret
Said “Voulez vous parler Francais?
I told him “Mais oui”
and I think you’ll agree
My reply vaut beaucoup de monnaie.
Slightly different version to: February 27, 2020 at 10:07 pm
I’m schizoid and saw myself nude
And one of my selves is a prude.
Now here is the score,
She went to the law
Where I was charged with behaviour that’s lewd.
He’s a riches-to-rags kind of guy.
When the rags go, a barrel is nigh.
He hasn’t a nickel.
What led to this pickle?
Trump told him: “The stock market? Buy!”
When Ogden was asked why he sought to
write more limericks than any man ought to:
“Not unlike earning cash,
it’s like breathing,” said Nash–
“it’s better to do it than not to.”
Thanks so much everyone for another fun two weeks of limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is…
Limerick-Off Award 339. Congratulations to the winners!
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Back.