| Polling for Gold |
| Bumping |
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18% |
[ 55 ] |
| Polling |
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38% |
[ 117 ] |
| Random |
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22% |
[ 68 ] |
| Spam |
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20% |
[ 63 ] |
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| Total Votes : 303 |
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Dirteh Old Man Vice Captain
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 Posted: Fri Mar 31, 2006 11:24 am
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Posted: Fri Mar 31, 2006 11:31 am
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Dirteh Old Man Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Mar 31, 2006 3:19 pm
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Posted: Sun Apr 02, 2006 6:33 pm
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Dirteh Old Man Vice Captain
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Dirteh Old Man Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Apr 02, 2006 6:38 pm
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Posted: Sun Apr 02, 2006 7:12 pm
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Dirteh Old Man Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 3:47 pm
There was a young lady named Kitty
Whose limerick came out so pretty
All the gents dressed in green
Were unusually keen
To admire her outstanding ditty.
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Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 3:48 pm
There once was a poet named May
Whose meter was running all day
We rhymed up in bed
I fearfully dread
A Limerick is on its way
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Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 3:49 pm
A limerick can be rather funny
when the syllables are on the money.
But when none of it fits
it can give you the shits
Would you stop writing limericks, sonny?
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Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 3:50 pm
A limerick with substance and slick,
Is harder to write bit by bit.
Especially when read...
To introduce something said,
And keeping it light and quick.
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Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 3:51 pm
When starting to begin a limerick,
The writer should choose a subject.
With words picked to nail...
A meaning that prevails,
And a closing with an ending that fits.
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Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 3:51 pm
Silhouette of a Dead man
There was a man on the hill
His silhouette silent, patient, and still
The expression on his face
Was torn downward in disgrace
And he stood gasping every breath quickly out of will
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Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 3:53 pm
There once lived a poet named George
near the Falls of Carnarvon Gorge.
He ran out of ideas
and to us it appears
that he secretly started to forge
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Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 3:53 pm
So he copied from Chaucer and Suess
which of course was a blatant abuse.
When he went to the printer
in the middle of winter
he'd manufactured his noose.
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Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 3:54 pm
In the bookstore he sat, smugly signing,
many copies, the people were lining
all the streets from the park
until way after dark,
with the moon and the streetlights shining.
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