The Toast Point Limerick Contest!
Squeaky-Clean Entries for March, 1996
Few and Far Between
Death will catch up to us all
It's no help being white, black or tall
For you must comprehend -
When it comes to the end,
Size or color make no difference at all!
Rowdy Jack writes 03/28/96
With this limerick page I've been smitten
By this doggerel, unleashed, I've been bitten
Now I post this addendum
How oft should I send 'em?
Cause I've got quite a lot of them written!
Oh, please, Jack, just send 'em around!
The more the merrier, we've found!
And tell all your friends
We'll soon have no end
Of limericks; in fact, they'll abound!
Rowdy Jack writes 03/25/96
An omphaloskeptic from Kent
Sat engrossed, his legs crossed, in a tent.
When they asked what engrossed him,
He replied: "If you must im-
Portune, I commune with my lint!"
Rowdy Jack writes 03/22/96
I used to pen verse and then hide it,
Fearing family and friends would deride it;
But your web page gave voice
To the verse of my choice -
I'm exceedingly happy I spied it.
Toast Point replies: "And so are we!"
JSE writes 03/21/96
There once was a man from Algiers
Who earned a small sum from his ears
Which he flapped fro and to
While he played a kazoo
And drew few, but exuberant, cheers!
"DOWNSIZE" is the word - biz abuses it!
And each time I hears it, I loses it!
First they DOWNSIZE my check
Then my benefits... Heck,
Think I'll "DOWNSIZE" the next guy who uses it!
The Sage looks disapprovingly at "Downsize", which isn't
really
a word at all, any more than "Impact" is a verb...
Rowdy Jack writes 03/19/96
There once were some twins Siamese
Quite proficient at chopping down trees;
With a two-bladed axe,
They would alternate whacks
And fell giant redwoods with ease.
I can't quite recall or remember
What it is like in December.
All that I know
Is that you get covered in snow:
And that's simply what I remember.
It has come to that time of the year,
When people don't cower in fear.
They're happy all day,
And frowns stay away.
It is when you know that spring is here!
The flowers that grow on the mountain
Beside the delicate pools of shimmering fountain.
Tiny frogs leap around,
Not making a sound
By the flowers that grow on the mountain.
Cooter the oxaloacetate
Loved his wife the pretty pyruvate.
Their life was quite placid;
She bore a citric acid
Who ran away with the isocitrates!
Baghwan writes 03/18/96
Bert's "billions of years" he professes
Are not Hubble's, but astrophysicists' guesses.
This Hubble, their token,
Shows a great cosmic joke in
This fact: Godless lives are all messes.
There once was a teacher named Mrs. Scott
Who tried go down a hill in a pot!
She thought she could,
And I wish she would,
but I still like her a lot.
Karen, DK writes 03/09/96
A little fat duck called Tony
Wished so much he was a pony
So when the other ducks swam in the lake
He whinnied by mistake
And that's the end of the story!
Anonymous writes 03/06/96
Now Emily so liked her money,
She stuck it to her body with honey.
She'd roll and she'd play
In the greenbacks all day -
As a sight I would say it's quite funny!
Baghwan shares a classic 03/05/96
There once was a lady from Bright
Whose speed was much faster than light.
She set out one day
In the merriest way
And returned on the previous night!
Bert writes
03/02/96
A wonderful tube is the Hubble:
Peering out from its space-platform bubble
Through billions of years,
The telescope peers
Turning creationist stuff into rubble!