Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: SHOT or SHOTS at the end of any one line.(Submission Deadline: April 6, 2024)
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 SHOT or SHOTS at the end of ANY ONE LINE. (A homonym or homophone not listed here may be used in lieu of the designated rhyme word.)
The best submission will be crowned Limerick-Off Award Winner. (Here’s the last contest’s Limerick-Off Award Winner.)
Additionally, you may write themed limericks related to PICTURES, using any rhyme word. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best PICTURE-related limerick.
And for a THIRD SEPARATE CHALLENGE, I’ve used a “Random Word Generator” to generate five random words. Your challenge is to use AT LEAST TWO of the Random Words anywhere in your limericks.
Here are the FIVE RANDOM WORDS for this contest:
AMUSING, DOCTOR, NEUROTIC, POSTPONE, VANITY.
(You’re free to singularize/pluralize the designated random nouns and to change the tense of the designated random verbs. You can even turn adjectives in adverbs and vice versa. And you are NOT required to use any of them as rhyme words, as long as at least two of the words appear somewhere in your limericks.)
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 April 7, 2024, right before I post the next Limerick-Off. So that gives you FOUR full weeks to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday, April 6, 2024 at 4:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my SHOT or SHOTS-Rhyme Limerick:
“That damn bartender’s AWOL,” said Scott
To his prep cook. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Though I’ve never mixed drinks,
I can do it, methinks,
So I gladly will give it a shot.”
And here’s my Picture-Themed Limerick:
“Gotta rush to the bookshop. I’m late!
I am meeting another blind date.
And that chick better look
Like her pic, or I’ll book
It, cuz boy, am I sick of pic-bait!”
And here is my RANDOM WORD GENERATOR Limerick:
An old woman who loved to complain,
Was neurotic and stubborn and vain.
When her doctor prescribed
Her a cane, the gal gibed:
“That will ruin my look. Where’s your brain?”
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: Alcohol Humor, Bartender Humor, Bartender Limerick, Battle of the Sexes, Beverage Humor, Blind Date Humor, Competition Limerick, Dating Humor, Dating Limerick, Deception Humor, Doctor Humor, Doctor Limerick, Health Humor, Health Limerick, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Poetry & Prompts, Vanity Humor, Vanity Limerick, Writing Prompts
Abraham Lincoln Complains To His Wife
“This show has a frivolous plot.
“Our American Cousin” is not
A well-written play.
I don’t want to stay.
It’s so boring, I’d rather be shot.”
They partied one night, – got the hots.
He fired up in bed, – had two shots!
Jump nine months and a bit:
“Here’s a writ, – you dead shit,
You done left me, alone with two tots”.
The saying, we know is not new,
But I’ll re-introduce it to you:
One pic’, (say the nerds),
Is worth one thousand words,
But for you, all I need is just two!
Herr Frederick told Lisle “Mein Schatz,
Your face is now all over spots.
You must fatty foods cut,
not a steak, not a nut,
or the boys, for you, won’t have the hots.”
Said the painter, “I’m awful, I know it,
but this painting, I’ve just got to show it.
I’ve met every stricture
creating this picture.
It’s my chance, and I ain’t gonna blow it.”
Narcissus admired his reflection
His vanity caused an erection.
Amused, (in a way),
He thought “Am I gay?
Or a product of Greek Myth-conception”
In my mirror, i cough and I wheeze
Neurotic and vain, head to knees.
When I slowly walk by;
Throw a smile and say “Hi”,
The mirror just groans back “Oh Please….”
With a gun pointed straight at his head,
The quarry quick-wittedly said,
“A close-up is not
My favorite shot.
Could you make it a selfie instead?”
“It’s A Boy Mam” (picture theme)
“The Picture Of Dorian Gray”
Was a movie, a book and a play.
His ultrasound scan
Showed a wretched old man
With teeth full of yucky decay.
Second Version: “Mid-Pregnancy Ultrasound Scan” (picture theme)
“The Picture Of Dorian Gray”
Was a movie, a book and a play.
In his ultrasound scan
‘Twas a wicked old man
With a mouth that would scare you away.
“The Postponers Club”
The Postponers make ev’ry endeavor
To confuse you. They’re sure mighty clever.
I’m amused when they say,
“Can’t do it today,
However, I’ll do it “whenever”
A man took to doing a shot
each time he saw Twitter bots.
Took not much of a while
of each “P—y in bio”
to make him a total blot!
My addiction to gambling runs hot.
Time to give it the ultimate shot.
You’re so keen for a bet,
Let’s try Russian roulette.
Five to one you might die, but so what!
I like classic old Westerns a lot —
Gritty films where drunk cowboys get shot.
When these tough buckaroos
Take in bullets and booze,
They just grin and say, “That hit the spot.”
I don’t have a shot
Cuz baby you are just too hot
I said to this boy
Not bothering to be coy
Then added, “Not!”
The fat sparrow at the fountain
Doesn’t want his picture taken
Turning his head away
Before I have a chance to say
I’m not here body shamin’
Fiona took off like a shot:
It was a small squirrel she sought.
The squirrel in the tree
Just chittered with glee,
Mocking my poor dog, and not caught!
An amusing neurotic doctor
Postponed the test she had to proctor.
It was vanity,
And insanity:
Her suddenly gray hair had shocked her.
“Reconstructive Surgeon, Dr. Greedy”
Doctor Greedy said, “Mrs. McCord,
You need your whole body restored.”
Last Tuesday he phoned
Said, “This can’t be postponed.
See you soon at the Vanity Ward.”
(Double)
In broad daylight he aimed; took the shot.
She lay still, on the deck of his yacht.
When she writhed on the floor
He shot her twice more
At his favourite fashion pics spot.
The reception you get will be cold,
If you contact your doctor, I’m told,
And try to postpone
Your appointment by phone.
All they do then is put you on hold.
She sent me her picture. She’s hot,
So I thought to give romance a shot.
Then she told me she’s rootin’
For Vladimir Putin.
My Internet girlfriend’s a bot.
“1960”
We would go to the Strand “picture show.”
Just me and my snugglebug, Joe.
I wore bright pleated skirts.
He wore button-shirts.
But that was a long time ago.
For many years, I’ve lived alone
In a place known as “Reschedule Zone”
Friends find it amusing
That the planner I’m using
Has an option of “now’ or “postpone”
Said my father, “I think I’ll invest
My spare cash in tattoos for my chest.
I’ve a picture in mind –
Charlie Chaplin’s behind –
It’ll make me laugh when I’m depressed.”
When a picture it’s trying to fit,
A limerick is hampered a bit.
But within this constraint
You can use words like spraint
Which though fancy is just otter shit.
Said drug-user Jay Arthur Scott,
“My life through that junk is all shot.
My house-plant’s gone to seed
My lawn is all weed
And my garden has all gone to pot.”
A young chap who swallowed a pyrometer
Said, “Doctor. My temperature. Monitor.”
Then something red-hot
Up his back-passage shot –
‘twas a quite badly warmed-up thermometer.
[With a tip of the hat to the legendary Ivan Skavinsky Scavar for lines 3 and 4.]
Jane asked, “Doctor, can I be psychotic?”
When he answered, “No, simply neurotic,
And perhaps a bit vain,”
She complained, “How mundane.
I deserve something much more exotic.”
Doctor Phantom said, “You are psychotic,
Which is making your life real chaotic.”
To worsen that he
Said “You’ve got OCD”
He’s bewildered, neurotic neurotic.
My psychiatrist wasn’t amusing
When he said that my case was confusing.
Though he said “Not psychotic,”
I preferred “Just neurotic
Or a malady of my own choosing.”
correction of limerick titled “1960” written on 3/13 at 12:58 AM
We would go to the Strand “picture show”
Just me and my snugglebug Joe.
I wore Scotch pleated skirts.
He wore button-down shirts.
But that was a long time ago.
For a classical musical treat,
Try Mussorgsky’s evocative suite
That brings to fruition
An art exhibition.
A sensory palate complete!
(Pictures theme)
Pictures At An Exhibition
A very smart stripper called Valerie,
Kept her clothes on, and doubled her salary.
She sold works of art,
Of each bare body part;
From her very own nude picture gallery.
I’ve lately been thinking alot,
Of how to bring down a despot.
The idea’s nothing new,
All you need’s a clear view,
And brave soul who’s an excellent shot.
I worked at Highland Park Pediatrics in Highland Park, Illinois for 10 years.
You can just imagine all the NOISE there, but it was fun and sometimes very funny.
At my job I saw numerous tots.
And each one was tied up in knots.
They all hoped I had clout.
And to me they would shout,
“No Shots! I Feel Good! Please No Shots!
“Vera” is a popular British TV detective series.
(Double)
The complete crime scene picture was clearer;
International arrests drawing nearer.
While the fed’ral hot shots
We’re still joining the dots,
It was solved in the UK by Vera.
One evening a thief tried his best
To break through the lock on my chest.
I yelled “you’ll get shot!”
And aimed the red dot
But then let my cats do the rest.
There’s a House Bill (postponed) that enables,
Any candidate to turn the tables:
A neurotic, narcotic,
Despotic psychotic
May now run in the party “No Labels.”
Picture Theme
I rarely take selfies. I lack
The fervor, the zeal and the knack.
Though I cannot deny
That I give it a try
To examine that zit on my back.
Now you can take a picture in a snap with your phone. But not in the “good old days” There was something called “developing film” and don’t forget the
“negatives”
Right now I am feelin’ real glum.
Know why? Cuz I just came home from
“Grand Picture Techniques”
I’ve been waitin’ 2 weeks
To look at a pic of my thumb.
G.K. Chesterton said, “If you can
At five hundred yards shoot your own gran;
I’d say, “You’re a good shot” –
But I simply could not
Ever say that you are a good man.”
If you heat up lead ‘til it’s quite hot
And a very tall tower you’ve got
And you go to the top –
And let molten lead drop
Into water you can make lead shot.
The Jaeger bombs started the rot;
With whiskies I’ve often been caught.
The Doc’s diagnosis:
(I can’t spell cirrhosis)
My liver is totally shot!
The Doctor said; “Healthy old man,
I’m sending you there for a scan”.
The digital picture
Uncovered a stricture;
And that’s when the trouble began …
I’ve postponed all my heart-felt profanity
‘Bout the state of our human insanity.
Neurotic and vain,
It’s amusing my brain;
All this pouters’ cosmetical vanity.
As your doctor, I cannot condone
All the sex calls you make to my phone.
I’ve a patient; she’s guessed,
Now she’s getting undressed.
So our phone sex I’ll need to postpone.
There’s the shirt with the Donald T mugshot,
And the Viktor-and-me T, a hug shot.
But I can’t wait to see,
The celebrative tee,
That’s the Donald’s-at-last-in-the-jug shot.
Eyeing pictures of Trump you will note
That his demeanour is always of gloat.
Smug and self-satisfied
Even though he has lied,
To others, his demeanour’s of goat.
The pictures of Christ you see
Are not based on reality,
And Jesus the man
Was not a gentle lamb,
But an anarchist, honest and free.
Trump must have missed the fake news:
The pictures with moon rocket views.
Each photo from space
Showed not a trace
Of a border between us and youse.
“Misinterpretation”
My wife’s in a coma from smoking.
I’m becoming neurotic, (not joking)
Doc said, “This is complex
But attempt oral sex.”
She AROSE! and then screamed out, “I’m choking!”
Picture Theme
This sale is sure not “for the birds”
The people are coming in herds.
They’ve a very nice staff.
The reduction is “half”
Each pic is worth 500 words.
A neurotic old despot named Don
Told his doctor, “My self-control’s gone.
I’m obnoxious, or vain,
Or just flat-out insane;
It depends on the drugs that I’m on.”
My Wife: “Sam’s Picture Store”
“Last night she was going to Sam’s.
She was barreling out. (The door slams)
The sale was “half-price”
That store is real nice.
The pics were worth 500 clams.”
When Rod needed “amusement” –and quick,
He thought Speed Dating might do the trick.
But the date said, “You’re vain,
And your fast-talk’s inane.”
Then she gave him a really swift kick.
Mad, please delete my entry at March 14, 2024 at 4:49 pm.
This is a slightly tweaked version:
With neurosis eroding her sanity;
Obsessed with her mirror, (and vanity),
She’s applied to herself
The whole beauty bar shelf,
And now looks like a walking profanity!
A real hypochondriac, Fred
Had gone to his doctor and said,
“Don’t call me neurotic.
My disease is exoctic.
“Don’t worry.” Said Doc. “It won’t spread.
As a new grandma, there is no maybe,
I have numerous pictures of baby.
What a punim she’s got,
And it lights up each shot.
That to everyone I must show daily.
There once was a neurotic manatee,
Who’s known for her bountiful vanity.
So to doctor she’d go
For a face lift, but woe!
She now strangely looks like Sean Hannity.
She lost track of the number of shots
That she’d downed. (Let’s just say it was lots.)
She will drink you — she’s able —
Way under the table.
She’s Mary, the Queen of the Sots.
While our board has considered, with gravity,
To accept scenes of sexual depravity,
They’re imposing restrictions:
Only fig leaf depictions,
Of anything resembling a cavity.
If The Donald should lose the election,
There’s no reason to stage insurrection.
He should give (while he’s hot)
Making movies a shot.
He’s so awfully good at projection.
He decided that he’d take a shot
At tying his own Windsor Knot.
Though he’d try and he’d try,
He could not tie the tie,
And tie tired is all that he got.
Typo correction
A real hypochondriac, Fred
Had gone to his doctor and said,
“Don’t call me neurotic.
My disease is exotic.
“Don’t worry.” Said Doc. “It won’t spread.
Sophie figured she’d give it a shot.
So she struck while the iron was hot.
But then promptly she learned
That one’s hand will get burned
When the iron one strikes isn’t wrought.
Bedecking the walls of Jill’s villa
Are paintings that look just vanilla.
Every piece in her home
Is cliched – monochrome.
Refined taste? Jill has not a scintilla.
I went in for an antibiotic
But was given a potent narcotic.
Guess the doctor decided
My plea was misguided
(I think he just thinks I’m neurotic.)
Revise of last line
As a new grandma, there is no maybe,
I have numerous pictures of baby.
What a punim she’s got,
And it lights up each shot.
So who must show it off every day, me!
“My Perfect Husband, Charlie”
My husband has “Mr. T” looks.
And not only that, Charlie cooks!
He reads night and day.
He’s a scholar, (they say.)
Charlie loves those profound picture books.
I’ll go for a twofer.
Brought my niece, who’s a beautiful tot,
To be vaxxed. She found green Marks-A-Lot
(Also black, blue and red);
Marked her face and her head.
I had phones, so we both got the shot.
This limerick comp’s a tough sport.
You won’t win if a syllable short,
Or your idea is hot
But your meter is shot.
PS: The judge cannot be bought.
Donald Trump is a blowhard, quite mad,
And I picture a scene, very bad:
To prove he’s a sleaze
And determined to please,
He’s down on his knees blowing Vlad.
(Triple)
Her doctor believes she’s neurotic;
All the pictures she takes are exotic.
They give her the hots,
But they’re vanity shots,
For she finds her own beauty erotic.
A true home improvement story:
Pulled old wallpaper off of our wall.
Found a picture drawn seven feet tall
Of a majorette dressed
In a way no one guessed:
Besides boots she wore nothing at all.
I want to write something amusing.
My Muse, though, won’t help; she’s refusing.
In my vanity, I
Thought at least that she’d try.
I’d do better by taking up boozing.
So Trump’s on the hook for some cash;
It might make him do something rash.
Like selling some pics
From his document mix
Or taking a job with DoorDash.
William Tell, as an archer, was hot,
But that day, he had drunk quite a lot
And got thoroughly pissed,
So the apple he missed;
Instead, ’twas his son that he shot.
Harvey slept with Miss Phillips alot.
One night they gave cocktails a shot.
Some Old Fashion head
Was Wall-Banging the bed
Till his Screwdriver found the right slot.
“She Needed An ANTIBIOTIC”
Doc Johnson, my sore is now oozing.
Stop smiling, that isn’t amusing.
You prescribed a narcotic,
Which made me neurotic.
Though it’s cool being hooked on “misusing”
“I’m neurotic, I know, but, Doc’, please,
Treat my vanity – don’t be a tease.
To postpone is abusing –
You find this amusing?”
“Tiny Hampton is not a disease.”
Hampton Wick is Cockney rhyming slang for – I’m sure you’ll figure it out – and is usually shortened to Hampton.
“Off on holiday? Get all your shots?”
“Laddie, aren’t ye forgettin’’? Ah’m Scots.
Single malt, eve’ry day,
Keeps the nasties at bay –
That’s includin’ the plague an’ the trots.”
His new gal was an absolute mess;
He was fully enthralled, nonetheless.
He wised up really quick
When he spotted her pic
On the wall at the USPS.
Cried a doctor when one patient fought
an injection, “Just take it or not!”
And he wasn’t amused
when the same guy confused
him by saying, “I’d rather be shot.”
In photos, the hat on Trump’s head
Became a new symbol, I’ve read.
Though MAGA we’ve seen,
Those initials now mean
“My Ass Got Arrested” instead.
When Carly had sung “You’re So Vain”,
They’d ask who it was – she’d abstain
From naming her mark;
Though her lyrics would spark
Talk of Warren, his scarf and jet plane.
Years later, a very few clues
Had emerged to alert and amuse.
While Beatty did claim
He’s the one she would name,
Her answer: you’re third – if you choose.
(It turns out that Ms. Simon said the song was written with three men in mind. She also admitted that Warren Beatty was one of them).
She had my tongue tied up in knots
and gave me a case of the hots.
My libido’s zingin’
but turned out she’s mingin’
I’m glad I’ve had all of my shots
The Covid Shot, 2021. “Oxymoron: Old People Techies”
At the drug store, old folks read the sign.
(The wording, a long way from fine)
“Seniors, go get the shot.
Cuz Spring chickens, you’re not.
And make your appointment online.
“Dammit! I want my money’s worth!”
Bought for mom and for dad each a plot.
Sounded simple, but things got real hot.
Mom passed away then,
Daddy married again.
I was forced to have “step mommy” shot.
He took the corona shot
Then fell on a giant pot
He was swollen and in pain
It almost drove him insane
But cause his body to rot
This man assumed he was hot
After swallowing a strong Jello shot
His head starts to spin
And he ran like the wind
Until he fell in a parking lot
Mom’s a “senior” and noting her hair
Is now falling out. She “feels bare.”
Doesn’t find it amusing.
She screams out, “I am losing
My allure! It’s not Vanity Fair!”
There’s a striker whose acting was hot
‘Cause he wanted a kick from the spot
So it didn’t take much
With the hint of a touch
He keeled over as if he’d been shot
A despised paparazzo named Lott
Chased down teenage pop stars more than not.
When I asked him what for,
“I don’t like being poor.
Just need one B. Eilish money shot!”
Your youth – I’m afraid you’ve outgrown it.
You’re adding on years – can’t postpone it.
From doctors you’re told
You’re just getting old.
The alternative – they don’t condone it.
“Dear Friend”,
Do not go to Doc Niptuck, in spite
Of the fact that your face is a fright.
Cuz true beauty’s within,
Way way, under the skin.
Don’t be vain. Your are gorgeous. (yeah right)
Vain old Donald is having his say again;
With the Bible he’s having his way again.
He amuses his base,
As he says with straight face —
“We will all Make America Prey Again!”
Unamused by his substance-abusing,
Her Doc’s licence, she warned he’d be losing.
Now with free fairy dust
And enhancement of bust,
It’s his stash and his cash that she’s using.
An Irishman, Seamus, was fraught
With concern when he heard what they sought.
For the Jameson’s pure,
And an old Irish cure,
Not meant to be downed in a shot.
She tried a new app for a date;
Turns out, it was far less than great.
Selecting a guy,
But whose pic was AI;
A zombie who then showed up late.
Those working for Trump ought to know
They’re merely just part of the show.
Then later, they’re not;
Credibility shot
And legal bills starting to grow.
Jake noticed her looking real hot
And figured he’d give it a shot.
Her hockey star beau
Let “enforcer” skills show;
And that’s why Jake’s front teeth were bought.
At last I pried open my wallet
For that blasted thing… what do kids call it?
The self-serving stick?
The self, selfie trick?
Now can somebody help me install it?
“I find it bizarre and confusing”
Said the doctor, neurotically musing
“That we postpone our sanity
In honor of vanity.
But it does make my job more amusing!”
For a – frankly – derisory price,
I will sell you the snaps of your vice.
They’ve come out rather well,
I’ve no doubt that they’ll sell
If you choose not to pay, so think twice.
“I’m neurotic’lly vain – does it show?
Tell me, Doctor! I really must know.
Don’t postpone – answer me!
Do I need therapy!”
“An amusing role-play – – Tallyho!”
For a – frankly – derisory price,
I will sell you the snaps of your vice.
They’ve come out rather well,
I’ve no doubt that they’ll sell
If you choose not to pay, so think twice.
Yes, a tempting proposal – but nay.
I’ve decided I don’t wish to play.
Sell the snaps, I don’t care –
I’m expecting my share,
And will certainly sue. (Don’t delay!)
Or:
For a – frankly – derisory price,
I will sell you the snaps of your vice.
They’ve come out rather well,
I’ve no doubt that they’ll sell
If you choose not to pay, so think twice.
Frankly, Mother, I really don’t care.
Take some more if you wish and we’ll share
When you sell. (Don’t delay!)
I want cash when you pay,
And think seventy / thirty is fair.
My doc said “We’ll need to postpone
Your visit – our schedule is blown.
We’ve taken a hit;
The receptionist quit
And my PA is stuck on the phone.
We hope to be back really quick.
In the meantime, if you’re feeling sick,
Go on to our site,
Hit ‘2 Meds For Tonight’;
It virtually could do the trick”.
Some photos he started to take
Of naked folks down by the lake.
One fellow did say
“You can join us, OK?
Or leave – for your camera’s sake.”
“Joan Bumps Into Grace: A Dialogue” (picture theme)
“How nice to bump into you, Grace!
That must be your grandson; Hi, Chase!”
“Indeed that is he,
But wait till you see
His portrait, which highlights his face.”
correction of above limerick” Line 5 (picture theme)
“How nice to bump into you, Grace!
That must be your grandson; Hi, Chase!”
“Indeed that is he,
But wait till you see
The portrait, which highlights his face.”
A steamy night when Todd had two shots,
He felt compelled to see Faye’s [(.) (.)] two big dots;
His blood got hotter,
He entered the freezer;
Causing his fronts to transform into frosts.
Revision of a previously submitted limerick
She texted her picture. She’s hot,
So I thought I’d give romance a shot.
Then she told me she’s rootin’
For Vladimir Putin.
My internet girlfriend’s a bot!
Attention All Limerick-Off Procrastinators: The current Limerick-Off ends this Saturday, April 6, at 4 pm (Eastern time.) So please get your limerick stragglers in.
All the silly young gals think he’s hot.
He’s a looker for sure, but he’s not
The nicest of guys,
He’s a cheater that lies,
I’ll let one of those flirts take a shot.
The pompous young doc lacked humanity.
His godlike self-image, pure vanity.
Like a peacock, he preened,
While His patients all keened.
His murder? I’m pleading insanity.
Said my doctor: “The Rorschach Test checks
For unfortunate mental effects.”
So I gave it a shot
And considered each blot.
Is it weird I thought only of sex?
“I’m a crazy neurotic—” “It shows –
And, untreated, your vanity grows.
See a doctor – for me.
Don’t postpone therapy.
It’s no longer amusing, tha’ knows.”
Having starting the night sipping tots,
I continued with various shots.
After many drinks more,
I was flat on the floor,
Swilling beer out of two-gallon pots.
My life’s just flashed past, like in pictures.
It was not as advised by the scriptures.
Too much booze, smokes, and coughin’
Means the box I’m sent off in
Won’t feature our flag, or gold fixtures.
Thanks so much everyone for another fun Limerick-Off, which is officially over. And the winner is…
Limerick-Off Award 520. Congratulations to the winners!
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Attack.