IMPORTANT NOTICE: THERE HAS BEEN A LAST-MINUTE RULE CHANGE! SEE BELOW!
Things you should know, in no particular order:
This contest has been going for years, and is extremely popular. The entries are awe-inspiring. Last year some of the winners got a prize. This year, I have saved one or more of my books (Little-Known Facts) and will award it/them as a prize. I think I will get someone else to adjudicate the contest for me this year. THE DEADLINE IS 13 FEBRUARY 2010. Winners will be announced on Valentine’s Day.
RULES ARE SUBJECT TO CHANGE. That’s just the way life is. Anything else would be, like, trying to deny this fact about our existence. Here are the rules at the present moment:
- Entries must be a limerick. Go to wikipedia.org, type “limerick” in the box, go to the entry about the poetic form, not the town, and read.
- Or google it, or whatever you people do.
- Limericks must include a structural misconception.
- Extra points for composers, musical forms, and Mahatma Gandhi jokes.
- Report on last year’s contest here.
- The arbitrary structural misconception rule was throwing people off (it was that, right?) so that has been eliminated. And composers have been done before, I think. And Gandhi wasn’t really being milked for the maximum comedy there, despite the fact that he used to sleep naked with young women to test his resolve, according to Wikipedia or someplace.
- So instead, the following rules will be in place:
- The limericks must be, as limericks often are, about love, especially its dodgier aspects BUT however use of the word “love” will result in instant disqualification. (Gamma suggested that one, I’m so proud.)
- Extra points will be awarded for the following: disgraced medical treatments, freshwater amoeba, character actors from the “That Guy” list of actors, skeletal bones, Irish politics, Irish writers, legal concepts, punctuation, and apocrypha.
SUBMIT ENTRIES IN THE COMMENTS TO THIS POST! Please include a valid email address (not posted) so that you can be contacted in case you win. Or don’t, whatever.
The honeymoon in Thailand seemed heaven-sent,
Till they got in a bad rafting accident,
Got Giardia lamblia,
Kinda like an amoeba,
And the groom broke his femur, that’s how-it-went.
The pretty young maid had been fretting,
The handsome young doc said, “Bloodletting,”
When he reached for the leeches,
She undid his breeches,
Now a date has been set for the wedding.
Acanthamoeba had taken Joe’s sight,
He was wont to despair of his plight,
Said his sweetheart, “Don’t frown dear,
“It won’t slow us down dear,
“Ladies all look the same without light.”
Jim chewed on a dirty bandana,
And contracted Endolimax nana,
It caused him colitis,
And rheumatoid arthritis,
And cost him his sweetheart, Rhianna.
For info re E. nana and rheumatioid arthritis, see: http://tinyurl.com/yhnxlrx paragraph 6
I’ll list of a bunch of conditions
And such will fulfill my ambitions
abnormal lordosis
amd osteoporosis
Preclude me from acts of contrition(s)
Amoeboids are a little one-dimensional
And so rogering is usually consensual
But the rules have gone Wilde
And coveting the child
Said the bishop was quite unintentional
From Mad-Men I dig John Slattery.
His insults come out like flattery.
Full of ciggies and whisky,
He still makes me frisky
With a wit that is cunning and chattery.
That brazen, bald buck Wallace Shawn,
Who has conquered Pixar and beyond.
His line so believable,
He says “incontheiveable,”
And showcases Sicilian brawn.
As you can see, I liked the “That Guy” angle…
While admiring J.K. Simmons,
Whose expression reminds us of lemons,
As a mean prison Nazi
Or Juno’s dad, you’ll see
A skull that will start conversations.
Ciaran Hinds has my Irish heart booming,
Playing Bronte’s and Austin’s best groomsmen.
His Caesar was charming,
His Russians disarming,
Ms. Pettigrew’s boyfriend, so soothing.
Giovanni Ribisi’s a star!
It’s true he has come very far.
He’s been at it for years,
Playing mob guys and queers
And that prick from the flick Avatar.
A contract does both parties bind,
And the newlyweds kept this in mind,
She was tied to the bed,
With ribbons of red,
Then came his turn; what rapture they’d find!
Wallace Shawn thought his wife unbelievable
When she said that a cure was achievable
The growth on his humerus
Was looking quite tumorous
But laetril pills? Inconthievable!
The young councilman from Errew,
Wanted all the young colleens to screw,
He was kind of a fop,
‘Tween the ladies he’d hop,
And they swooned when he sang “Too Ra Loo…”
You left me on Valentine’s day
And now my life’s in disarray
My trepan is dull
But a hole in my skull
Makes the one in my heart go away
Would you look who it is, yes it’s me
Was Eirelifted in just for to see
If you really are glad
If I stir things a tad
Like that guy, you know him, from Glee
Don’t you know that I’m glad to help out?
Trish, why didn’t you give me a shout?
They’re looking for Irish!!!!!!
That’s just our style Trish!!!!!
Sure we know stuff not known by the Kraut
And Mig told me I can’t say the word,
Which I really find rather absurd.
If the letters appear,
Does that not steer clear
Of my velo, my elov, my bird?
They fell in you know what on first sight,
and made it ahem that same night.
or was it just lust
when he saw her bust?
No, I’m sure twas the other alright.
There once were two clever Amoebae
who both sold sea products on ebay
through fresh water sources
they soon joined up forces
and now they are having a baebae
Though I’ve told him poor show on the cloning
The amoeba keeps on phoning and phoning
I showed him the door
He slid on the floor
And now there are talks of postponing
Oh I see you’ve deleted amoebae
Replaced by the playwright O’Casey
Or Wilde and/or Joyce
There’s plenty of choice
They’re the best at the end of the day
James Cromwell once lived on our street.
I swear it and once we did meet.
“You always play dad”,
Seemed to get him quite mad.
After that we talked with our feet.
An Irish politician called O’Bama
Created a bit of a drama
He looked up his folks
In Ballygobroke
And in fact they’re from Toomevara
Elizabeth Bowen’s a favourite of mine
Charles Ritchie her lover divine
I added an R
I asked my lawyer
Can’t disqualify but maybe fine
Trish come on now you have to come in
This time I would like you to win
The smell of the dwarf
Nearly made me barf
But it’s a book this time, re a fin
Mary Sunshine I know keeps an eye
On proceedings and books by the by
Her reading’s prolific
I thinks she’s terrific
The prize illustrations belie
Come on trish, come on, have a say
You have to come on, no delay
I bought those nice books
But then I mistook
And gave three of my four books away
Ok I rang and Trish is asleep
She really was run off her feet
She’s now a QC
Between you and me
And it looks like we’re in for defeat
Well the news in Ireland’s not good
George Lee has abandoned the hood
Nine month’s in the Dail
To him was feck all
He’d get his job back if he could
There once was a playwright called Shaw
Who wasn’t quite sure of the law
He got a Nobel
And I heard someone tell
That Oscar displayed shock and awe
I will deal with apocrypha next
Though I don’t understand the context
It doesn’t occur
Yet it causes a stir
Like the banned word that makes you have sex
In gaelic “bhuel” means well, just well.
But if you spelled backwards this bhuel
You’d get the forbidden
The one banned word hidden
Leubh Gamma and she couldn’t tell
While I’m here, very sad on my own
I think I’ll get back on the phone
We’ll have to rouse Ian
A Limerick machine
He has my snow white out on loan
They say Wilde was well-known as a wit
Or so it is said and is writ
But he went to jail
And in this he must fail
For in absens haeres non erit
Did you know that Stalin was Irish
Apocryphal stories from my Trish
Tell of the when and the how
He beat Chairman Mao
In chess in Cowan’s pad which was stylish
SOS apostrophe catastrophe
The one re George Lee I have fluffed
Nine months in the Dail
Needs no quote at all
If you’re picky like that go get stuffed
The theme must be about you know what,
And for the most part, well mine, they are not
I can punctuate though
And know Danny Trejo
And my valentine’s Flann O’Brien’s moth
I have feelings for this fellow Joyce
His mother thinks I am quite noice
if I stick like a limpet
And if I don’t wimp it
He may one day make me his woife
A lesser known playwright called Friel
Said you’re as young as the woman you feel
He would not use that word
Thought it somewhat absurd
Told his characters just to get real
There once were some limericks from MN
Who kept on and on though she shouldn’t
She wanted a book
By hook or by crook
But was disqualified as she was foreign
There is someone out there I adore
And when I get some, I want more
Till debt do us part
Well, debt and the farts
In Irish the word is a stÓr
My dear MN has fallen asleep
I just saw her counting some sheep
In Brian Cowen’s county
A fish book’s a bounty
I adore her, and she is for keeps
I awoke and found it complete
Like so often, when offered a treat
A late entry allowed?
Although well endowed
The contest will bid me defeat
In limerick and contest, I regret
I was not there at MN’s behest
like the West I’m Awake now
Like the opposite of hate though
NAMA dat quod non habet
Pingback: Metamorphosism» Blog Archive » Winners of the 2010 metamorphosism.com St. Valentine’s Day Limerick Contest
Oh the Ladies of Eire are fiery
I must pencil them into my diary
Though a rub of my relic
For the ladies, angelic
Will reward them for excellent lawery