I don’t know why I’m thinking this way
I’ll just ramble and then come what may
To play a blog host
By trying to post
An original limerick a day.
I’m Heinz fifty-seven they say
With a bit of Scot by the way
But on March Seventeen
When I’m with Jacqueline
By God, I’m all Irish that day!
Once “bad” was good in street-schtick
But now those kids call cool stuff “sick”.
What next should ascend
To continue this trend?
“Disgusting” should do the trick.
Of late we are blessed with book burners
Who are classical Christmas song spurners.
I’ll join in their ban.
Let’s start, if we can
With those jazzed up by Rat Pack crooners.
Facebook is a culinary school
Or to share a new meme that is cool.
But the stupidest way
Is to get on each day
To use as a marketing tool.
Elections with Dems were such trauma
Debates soon broke down to “yo mama”.
But Irish you see
Always trumps GOP
And that’s why I cast for O’Bama.
Something was way wrong with me
To a doctor I then went to see
I got a PA
There was no other way
My clinic is now WebMD
A man found a lamp in his dishes
He rubbed it and got his three wishes.
He got riches galore
Then he wished for three more.
That’s why genies call all us “those bitches”.
There are those of propriety
Who state with sobriety,
“Each toilet bowl should
Have a seat made of wood.”:
The Birch John Society.
A man was on seventh and pine.
It said on his cardboard sign,
“I DO have a skill.
But it don’t fit the bill.
On Halo I’m at level nine.”
johnbeaverspen 