Hard to believe a year has passed, but it has.
Suddenly, it’s time for the metamorphosism.com St. Valentine’s Day Limerick Contest again.
ZOMFG!
The contest will be very simple this year. Here are the rules:
- Read all the rules before entering. This is because entering the contest indicates that you have read and accepted all the rules and terms of the contest.
- Enter in the comments to this post.
- All entries must be in limerick form. If you are unfamiliar with what constitutes limerick form, a quick Internet search using the search engine of your choice will clear up any uncertainty. Alternatively, you may consult a book or ask someone.
- This year, there is no prize. This may change if someone generously donates a prize, but don’t hold your breath.
- There is a mystery judge this year. Maybe I’m the judge, maybe someone else. Who knows? It’s a mystery.
- As every year, conduct of the contest and judging will be arbitrary, corrupt, biased and otherwise patently unfair. Believe me, no one suffers more from this than I. I would change it if I could, but this is a built-in feature of the contest and always has been.
- Anyone complaining about the rules, conduct of the contest, judging or anything else in connection with the limerick contest shall be disqualified and ridiculed publicly or privately, at my discretion.
- Rules are subject to change without prior and/or further notice.
- The contest has one or more themes every year. This year, the themes are malfeasance, iatrogenic illness, Scandinavia (especially furniture), jurisprudence animal husbandry, Scotland, horseradish and television series involving dragons or cooking (or both)
- Bonus points for astronomical legal terminology, as well as terminology suggested by the themes listed in rule 9.
- As per rule 8, themes and bonus points are also subject to change without further and/or prior notice.
- Winners will be announced on or about St. Valentine’s Day (14 February 2013 (my time)).
- Have fun!
39 Comments
There once was a man from Pripryat,
Who needed a stand for his hat,
But finding one was tough,
They would never hold enough;
Cause Ikea don’t believe in ten heads.
Convalescing in a British hospital,
I had nothing to fear at all,
The improving color of my complexion,
Showed I was heading in the right direction,
Until I caught a nosocomial infection.
Whilst dating a lovely young paralegal
I was a conniving and cheating old weasel
There was no end of grief
When she overcame her disbelief
And I never again saw her spread-eagled.
At the start of each contest it seems
I’m set to dive in and write reams
But stumble, because
I first have to pause
To look up the words in the themes
My right leg was hurt when I fell
And started to stiffen and swell
So for a new tactic
I tried chiropractic
Now I can’t move the left one as well
My love works the till at Ikea
Which colours our romance, I fear
His Fartfuls are grand
And his Malm fills my hand
But I daren’t whisper Broarp in his ear.
Last year’s contest — Jann, you concur –
Was corrupt. By a grand saboteur.
Malfeasance? For sure.
Undiluted and pure;
Res ipsa loq(friggin)uitur.
(res ipsa loquitur = “the thing speaks for itself)
This is not an entry, but for the record:
Jeter Coffee’s opinions, feleings, attitudes, ideas should be considered his and his alone. He does not speak for me, nor do I “concur with the sentiments expressed in his last post.
In deference to Jann’s wishes I revise my limerick as follws:
This year’s contest — truth does concur –
Is corrupt. By a grand saboteur.
Malfeasence? For sure.
Undiluted and pure;
Res ipsa loq(friggin)tur.
(res ipsa loquitur = “the thing spaks for itself”)
The limerick is a commentary on the verv rules by which this contest is based:
“5.There is a mystery judge this year. Maybe I’m the judge, maybe someone else. Who knows?
“6.As every year, conduct of the contest and judging will be arbitrary, corrupt, biased and otherwise patentlv unfair.”
“This year, the themes are malfeasance…”
“10.Bonus points for legal terminology…”
I submit that the limerick is in total compliance with the rules and should be given extra points for the legal phrase “res ipsa loquiture” but it is not submited with any expectation of being given any serious consideration. It is, as Jann figured out an expression of my disguts for last year’s contest. Jann expressed her displeasure last vear as well.
A young flat-pack furniture builder
Shagged a girl from Stavanger called Hilde
Put tab A in slot B
She invited with glee
So he did, but the trouble was that he wasn’t really a builder, he was a medical student from Stockholm moonlighting for extra money with a weekend job in IKEA and he’d picked up a horrible hospital bug which caused tremendous and grotesque swelling in the final lines of limericks, and the resulting infection damn nearly killed her.
__________________
@Jeter – your entry doesn’t conform to limerick rhyming scheme and isn’t a limerick.
@Anyone who’s curious but can’t be arsed to Google – here’s a page describing limerick form. http://www.poetryteachers.com/poetclass/lessons/limerick.html
Limerick writing is an art form. Silly, sometimes bawdy, always clever, and demanding of one’s respect.
For our Valentine limerick lines
We need to think hard all the time
To squeeze in the abstruse
We must play fast and loose
With our scansion, and rhythm, and rhyme
Of Sweden I can’t get enough
Where the blonde girls cavort in the buff
And the weirdly odd nature
Of IKEA’s nomenclature
And badly dubbed episodes of Puff
the Magic Dragon
Nurse Marie was subpoenaed to court
To report how a doc named James Fort
During surgery, splenic,
Cut a major nerve (phrenic),
Then the surgery had to abort.
Drat! I guess that means I won’t win. Thanks, Bran.
A scandal of massive malfeasance
Was talked of in Sweden for seasons
The doctor’s lost knife
Was found in his wife
A surgery of iatrogenic dis-ease-ance.
In Scotland it’s different of course
As they like to remind you with force
They don’t dine alfresco
And contrary to Tesco
Their horseradish won’t contain horse.
Came in for a new bedroom suite
But Ikea’s design has me beat
For twenty-three days
I’ve wandered their maze
With nothing but meatballs to eat
Entrants: please note last-minute arbitrary rule change!
The Scots have a hard time concealing
The new times have left them all reeling
Their cooking shows gag us
When frying up haggis
And their upskirt websites aren’t appealing
Mig I’m sorry that I let you down
I did promise when I was in town
I’d do a few rhymes
If you paid for my wine
Which you did, in fairness, you clown.
But my Faolsie was playing the drums
And he needed a lift off his mum
If he played the harmonica
Would’nae need a lift off her
Could have got the bus there to and from
Now let’s see what the rules are this time
There are none it seems so it is fine
I can enter alright
In the middle of night
A few limericks across the line
There first comes animal husbandry
With points for astronomicology
And Scottish horseradish
And dragonish sandwiches
That’s mad, Ted but I’ll give it a try
Paul McCartney turned me off Scotland
I have nothing to say on the one hand
On the other I suppose
I’ll consider its prose
And not forget Burns, the ploughman
Though Paul McCartney is one to admire
I hate that song Mull of Kintyre
If bleedin mists from the sea
Were rolling down on me
Far far away is where I would desire
I went to Vienna with Trish
She ordered a sausagey dish
Horseradish? said Ian
Yes, they eat it in Wien
And sometimes they put it on Fish
My radish was just astronomical
I grew it to be economical
But when I saw my bloke
I just thought of this joke
That to poke him would be quite comical
I’m sorry I can’t talk of shows
Of dragons – I’m not eight, you know
But I really love Jamie
And Nigella and Ramsey
Who doesn’t quite go with the flow.
Is that enough now darling Mig?
I said that I would do and I did
I know they’re not bawdy
And some are quite tawdry
But I’m glad you continued this gig
Saint Malachy’s Malediction
The resignation of Pope Benedict
Reminds us of Malachy’s maledict
His prophecy unfurled
The end of the world
And tribulations it will inflict.
Saint Malachy in year 1139
Laid out his prediction divine
His list of the popes
Dashes our hopes…
We’re now at the end of the line!
Here is the gist of this tome:
It’s time for man’s final shalom
Because Petrus Romanus
Will soon be upon us
To reign over destruction of Rome.
_____________________
Charles Ulysses Feney
Pope Benedict longs for the things
That only retirement brings
He’ll pursue his desire
For that boy in the choir
With a bottom like jelly on springs
I have received an electronic communication from last year’s Judge Teathorn who, it turns out, has not died, but had been offline due to “suffering massive iatrogenic trauma because a nurse accidentally put an energy drink in my IV instead of NaCl solution.”
Although I had already arranged a secret judge for this contest, I feel obliged to take Teathorn’s input under consideration as well when calculating this year’s winners. Here is some of what Teathorn said:
“Perry is too clever not to win.
Dave and Schnitzi are too cool not to at least place.
Unfortunately, Dave hasn’t posted under the new rules.
The only poems not disqualified at this point are by Perry, Schnitzi and Muirsi Wursi.”
Judge Teathorn has a point. However, an innovation this year was the secret rule. This year’s secret rule was massive extra points for having the balls to enter first despite the arbitary rule changes that are a part of the contest, which I tried out because otherwise everyone would wait until the last day to enter, which would cut down on the entertainment value.
So, after consulting with the secret judge, and considering Teathorn’s input, the winners of the 2013 metamorphosism.com international St. Valentine’s Day Limerick Contest are as follows:
First Place goes to Perry
Second Place is a three-way tie between Muirsi Wuirsi, Dave and Schnitzi.
Thank you to everyone who entered, and those of you who stopped by to read. Sorry there were no big controversies this year, I’ll work harder in 2014. Happy Valentine’s Day!
FIX! TOTAL FIX!
In accordance with rules 4 and 6, I wish to generously donate a prize to all runners up who have a W in their name. The prize is a lovely new handbag. Thank you very much.
May I congratulate mig, Judge Teathorn, and Bran for carrying out this contest in strict compliance with announced the rules. And props to Perry and Schnitzi for some good lims.
Awesome. A perennial pleasure for readers. Thank you to Mig and all limerick masters.
This time I do agree with Jeter; everything was in strict compliance with the announced rules. Congratulations all!
Congratulations, winners. And congratulations contestants for surviving yet another St. Valentine’s Day Internation Limerick Brawl.
@Jeter – this is Mig’s contest. I’m not running the show in any way, though I am a keen fan of the limerick contest. I’m also the ‘webmaster’ of this here site in the way that if something breaks, Mig goes into a quasi-Autistic doom spiral and has just enough wherewithal left to email me and point generally to the problem. I fix it. Sometimes I break it, too. But then I fix it. So that’s my role around here – no more than that. Also, Mig is my friend and I think he’s neat.
Quasi-autistic doom spiral is the name of my new band.
Post a Comment