First of all, wow. And my sincere thanks to all entrants. The entries to the 2009 contest can be found here.
Despite attempts by me to confuse things with random rule changes, there were significantly more limericks entered in this year’s contest than in past years. They were quite classy as well, and most managed to follow the rules, even when those rules called for Latin or Icelandic, or diseases that affect rat behavior.
There were even entries entirely in Latin, and Irish. Thanks guys.
Things went kind of crazy for a while, which was nice. As Anon wrote:
I think Muireann and Trish should both be disqualified. They seem to be using this competition as a forum to air their petty grievances and are not taking the competition seriously. For example in the last 28 posts there has been no mention of a burlesque performer and only one or two references to scalpels. Some of the limericks seem to be written in an unidentified foreign language and could have any meaning. How can that be judged? They should at least be asked for a translation. Also the limericks are of poor quality and there are too many of them. There should be a cap on the number of limericks allowed and there should be more control of unruly participants.
However, since Anon was posting from the same ISP number as Muireann, I am disinclined to disqualify her at the behest of a household member who obviously bears a grudge against her. (You might want to look into that, Muireann.)
We judged this year on the basis both of quantity and quality, using a weighted algorithm and a compass. As a result, the only possible contenders for places 1, 2 and 3 are, in alphabetical order, Jann, Muireann and Trish, and it comes down to their bonus points. Toxoplasmosis gondii would normally have automatically cinched it for Jann, as that is my favorite protozoan, and the one I was hoping to elicit with the related rule change. However, the sheer quantity of Muireann’s entries won her points, as did the Icelandic. Honestly, I did not expect to see much real Icelandic, beyond references to Björk, maybe. Trish was doing well, in the running for first place, until her broadband went out, setting her back somewhat.
As a Solomonic solution, I was briefly tempted to let Tony and Ian tie for first place, but my wife said that would be a stupid thing to do.
Anyway, here are the final results.
First place: Jann (extra points for toxoplasmosis gondii, and also more of her entries stuck closer to the rules, and the youtube burlesque link)
Second place: Muireann
Third place: Trish. Sorry about your rat, Trish.
Thank you to everyone who entered. See you next year.
As far as this year’s prize goes, I am hitting the flea markets in search of trophies. I’ll mail the winners when I find some, or something similar, for mailing instructions. Or, how about you guys let me know where to send them?
Well, I feel honored. I wrote more limericks than I ever thought I would, and my desk is littered with papers I printed with titles like, “Latin words and phrases.” (I never studied Latin). I had fun, did a lot of research, e.g., burlesque performers, diseases of rats. I think everyone else had fun too. Congrats to Muireann and Trish.
And thank you Mig, for hosting what turned out to be a very interesting contest indeed!
Congratulations Jann. Way to go!
Ad verse? Ah not really, no.
Your superior skill
Your eloquence at will
Has made you the star of the show!
Deus Meus! I didn’t even get honourable mention.
Is it because I is dead?
(Non omnis moriar)
Is it because I is black?
Is it because I is back?
Is it because I had craic?
Is it because I married trash?
Is it because I had no cash?
Is it because I was rash?
Is it because I was rish?
Oh yeah that’s right, I didn’t actually post an entry in the end
Well done worthy opponents. Loved your ratio decidendi Mig, though I would have not listened to your wife. Those men suffered untold hardship (though the underwear dearth was discussed in great detail).
Because of the day that’s in it and because I have no blog can I describe my evening. I disturbed a neighbour, drove to three towns, stood in a petrol station while a man with little English and did not know what cream was, tried to persuade me that what i really needed was custard. I suffered the indignity of local men teasing me and taking wild guesses as to what my particular fetish was and how said cream fitted in. I forgave them when I discovered they were not a gay couple, had no girlfriends and had waited for two hours for a steak that had to be sent back because it was raw and they still had the chutzpah to confront a borderline hysteric explaining that she had a real emergency and that her root vegetable gratin was in mortal danger. That was town three (Rhode, Daingean, Edenderry in case anyone’s interested). I could not return on Valentine’s night vanquished, a failure in my quest. Failure is so unattractive. So I started on the restaurants and finally a lovely Indian man gave me a pint of cream and refused payment. I returned home, triumphant. My husband had gone to great lengths, he even sourced a bottle of Billecart-Saumon which brand I took from a minibar in Paris to annoy him a few years ago. Later that evening I attempted to choke him. Reproducing that Champagne was far more touching than the roses and the bizarre arseless underwear (a stab at recent domestic arrangements, no doubt). More chutzpah, returning us to the scene of the crime when we are safely on the other side to remember a bad moment and remind us how good it is now. Happy Valentine. Limerick Abu
So, how’s the flea market search going?
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