Daily Limerick
Archives: February 2001

Contains Mature (and immature) Content;If You’re a Minor, Go Away!


NOTE: DL has not yet taken the time to put "anchors" into the archives. Translation: You're gonna have to scroll all the way through the long-ass documents (use your "find" commands, squatlicks)!


Here’s a sample of the Daily Limerick FREE e-mail newsletter! (Now in it’s second year of “service”!)

NOTE: A limerick is a humorous poem that is generally of a sexual nature. If you are offended by such a thing, please delete this message immediately and realize YOU WILL NOT BE ADDED TO THIS LIST UNLESS YOU SPECIFICALLY ASK TO BE—THIS IS MERELY A SAMPLE!

You’ll find a sample limerick below as well as “Slappin’ and Yappin’,” our commentary section, of sorts, on our nutty, copiously-corporate-sponsored world! There’s also our new “Letters to the Idiot” section! That’s right, what began as simply a limerick service is now a full-blown... er, at least a lukewarm attempt at an e-newsletter!

So you’ve spotted that guy or gal who’s causing a dance in your pants—but what, oh what can you possibly say to pick him or her up? “You’ve got more legs than a bucket of chicken” is nice, but it takes a special kind of person to appreciate it, mainly people who don’t know English too well. Perhaps you should throw out a LIMERICK! For limericks truly soothe the soul and part the thighs. If that doesn’t work, some quotes from “Slappin’ and Yappin’” will surely break the ice.

Well, perhaps not. But in any event you can simply reply to this e-mail and get a free limerick (and “Slappin’ and Yappin’”—every day! No, you haven’t died and went to heaven! And, no, you haven’t died and went to hell either!

Should you not desire a succulent limerick and tender dose of Slappin’ and Yappin’ delivered to your e-mail box rain or shine (occasionally late, but much more reliable than the Post Office, although that’s not saying much) you can simply DO NOTHING. That’s right—unless you reply and simply ask for it, you won’t receive more! (Although the DAILY LIMERICK is organized a bit like the Post Office, so you may accidentally receive more than one of these sample queries.)

Sign-up today! Be the first on your block to have the DAILY LIMERICK!


Not expecting any Valentines this year? Don’t worry—you can proudly say, as you’re putting the finishing touches on that mail bomb: “I don’t need Valentines! I’ve got limericks!”

And feel free to use one of these limericks on a Valentine of your own! Just keep Daily Limerick out of it when you go before the judge (but make sure and mention that we were responsible if you do, by some strange rip in the fabric of reality, happen to get lucky—or even a laugh—out of it!).

So groan away over today’s SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ and also welcome a new for of nausea induced by our latest feature, LETTERS TO THE IDIOT! And by the way, I can call myself that because I’m actually a PROFESSIONAL IDIOT! That’s right! By occasionally selling my tripe to MAD Magazine, I’m actually a member of “The Usual Gang of Idiots,” and, considering they pay me, that makes me a Professional Idiot!


Daily Limerick 2/1/2001:

A crazed horny slut named Maria

had legs that cried out “Mama Mia!”

She’d do men in shifts

and give them all gifts

(most often, it was gonorrhea).



Just a little remind to all you folks to take it easy on this most hallowed of holidays.

There are a lot of accidents, due to all the drunkenness and drugs and craziness, so be careful this Groundhog's Eve.

Peace on earth. Good will to rodents.


Daily Limerick 2/2/2001:

A man lacking the nitty-gritties

went skirt chasin’ in the Twin Cities

a lifetime of grins

came when these two twins

gave him a tour of the Twin Titties.



This weekend they're kicking off festivities for the new XFL. It's supposed to be some hybrid of Professional "Wrestling" and football, with lots of busty cheerleaders and an overall catering to the six-beers-and-I'm-a-little-inbred-to-begin-with reading level.

Why not just drop the pretense of sport, lay-off the sweaty men in tight pants and form the XXXFL?

Okay, as I've recently related, I understand the allure of second-hand porn. Previously, I didn't understand the point of shows like "Baywatch." If you want sexy women with questionable plotlines, why bother patronizing the advertisers or dealing with those pesky swimsuits? Watch porn!

But now, well, I won't go into my love-hate-lacking contacts relationship with Nikki Cox.

Think about it, though. The XXXFL. There'll be a lot of "going out for the long one." Tight ends. Wide receivers. Rams and Packers galore!

Or perhaps it's just stupid.



>Groundhog Day is pretty scary -- but the shadow knows.



If he gets hungover and doesn't come out to check for his shadow, he might be a groundedhog.


Daily Limerick 2/3/2001:

A she-Hobbit actress named Slings

who dances and juggles and sings

did try theater

fame didn’t occur

so she filmed “Lord of the Cock Rings.”



There seems to be some conspiracy today, perhaps because humanity becomes more and more pitiful by the minute, toward justifying datings services, Internet date-finding, and other assorted frightening fare. But consider a couple recent stories (and sorry if these are Chicago-based, for our non-Chicago-area readers, but perhaps you've heard of them):

The proprietor of the Goodman theater (or was it the heir-I'm not up on my tragedies) was killed by his wife.

How did htey meet... Hmm...


Now, a crazed arsonist guy has been meeting chicks and burning down their houses for insurance purposes. He was only recently caught because, in part, the chick, this time, survived.

How did he meet her (and the others)? PERSONAL ADS.

I rest my case.


Daily Limerick 2/4/2001:

A porn star found her life-long dream

to own an ice cream shop gain steam

each flavor she’d name

to play off her fame

like best-selling “Nookies and Cream.”

Daily Limerick 2/5/2001:

There once was a dame most called “Dragon”

who was so addicted to naggin’

she’d nag when alone

when asleep, on the phone

and she’d even keep naggin’ while shaggin’.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 2/4 and 5/2001

Whoops! I did it... Once. I screwed up and didn't send a limerick yesterday. But you get TWO today! That's almost a fist full o' limerick! Complain, and I'll tear you limb from limerick. Who do you think I am, Limericky Ricardo?

Boy, is this dumb. Lame(rick) even.


Daily Limerick 2/6/2001:

A super realistic chis’ler

sculpted this babe—man, what a sizzler!

Sold it with a boner

to a steak house owner

whose rest’rant was re-named “The Jizzler.”



For those of you who have never worked as a temp, I'll fill you in on the experience:

Do you know how you feel on the first day-probably through the first week-of the job? You don't know the system. You scrawl out notes. You hope you don't screw up too bad. You feel like a bonehead asking questions of co-workers all the time. You forget everyone's name. Everybody forgets yours. People forget you don't belong there. You lack codes to use copiers and computers and sometimes even some sort of ID to get into the building. You get locked in stairwells.

Well, as a temp, that Confusion Honeymoon never ends!

I gotta rent that movie, "The Temp." Perhaps I can pick up on some characteristics and frighten people at these jobs. Gotta get kicks somehow.



Squirrely checks in with (we assume he was referring to yesterday's edition):

>That was one lame slappin' and yappin'. Only in Lamerica.

Lame! I wanna live forever! Ignite the crowds with a groan-lame...

(I wouldn't want you to go without a dose of lameness at this point.)

(Damn, this is lame.)


Daily Limerick 2/7/2001:

Now Al Gore, well, he sure missed the boat

and Dick Cheney looks much like a goat.

Presidents, we all know

often scam a nice blow

but no chick wants to be a Veep Throat.



I imagine you've all heard/read/whatever about the nut here in Chicago who went and shot up his former office. What an original expression of psychosis, huh?

But anyway, I look at the cover of the Sun-Times this morning and the major headline is "What Drove Willie Baker to Murder?"

Let me get this straight. Something DROVE him to murder. He was just a fun-lovin', altogether normal guy and life got rough, driving the poor, poor guy to murder.

Then, I overheard a conversation in the office I'm temping at and... This one woman, her husband WAS AT Navistar (the company where this occured)-when it occured! (Her husband wasn't harmed.) And she's going off on a tangent about how he wasn't such a bad guy. Life just screwed him up.


Nothing DROVE him to murder-he got behind the wheel and took the '69 Chevy Nova into Homicide Hills.

Hey, I don't want to start a pity contest here but... I've had girlfriends get pregnant on me BY OTHER GUYS. I've eaten potatoes as my only meals twice a day for months at a time. I've been fired from jobs for things I honestly didn't do-jobs that were barely paying the bills to begin with, at a time before I had any sort of marketable skills or education.

I've been cheated. Been mistreated. When will I-I be loved....

Ahem. Again.

And I know a lot of other people who've been through worse who, strange as it may seem, weren't DRIVEN to shooting up their job site.

Lay off the "tolerance" and "compassion" in some cases. He was a whack-job. 'Nuff said.


Daily Limerick 2/8/2001:

A chick who liked deep-throatin’ nasty

loved a man with a 12-inch mast-y.

When troubles arose

they both blamed her nose

(she died on her twelfth rhinoplasty).



Every now and then, on the road of life, we encounter something that renews our hope for the human race.

Of course, every now and then we encounter something that makes us feel just the opposite.

That happened to me today.

I witnessed a woman, around my age, do something that, frankly, seems to portend doom for the mankind.

She actually said, "That would be Super Dooper."

She wasn't kidding around. It wasn't a joke.

She said, "That would be Super Dooper."

God save us all.


Daily Limerick 2/9/2001:

Some fans of Anna Kournikova

view her serve as a supernova.

Those who love her most

of that will not boast

for they prefer her bending ova’.



It's The Ninth of February! What are your plans?

Just wondering. We celebrate The Fourth of July! But we don't celebrate The Twenty-Fifth of December! Nor do we celebrate the Seventeenth of June! Or the Third of November!

Hmm. Okay. I'll stop being stupid. Okay, I won't because then I'll have to shelve this whole DAILY LIMERICK project.

But we really should kill the phrase "It's NOT your father's..." Or its close cousins, "It's NOT your mother's..." and "It's NOT your parents..."

I saw a headline today about the currently running Chicago Auto Show trumpeting that "It's NOT your father's auto show." Is this assuming that our father's ran auto shows? Assuming that our father would never go to an auto show today? "They're too foul. There's no talent involved. Back in 1942-that's when people know how to put on an auto show!"

Shut up. Just shut up. It's NOT your father's mouth I'm telling to shut. It's yours.

I'd like to see a headling "It IS your father's auto show!" I think more classic cars might make the show cooler.



Daily Limerick 2/10/2001:

A dame who knows length when she eyes it

bangs each well-endowed guy who tries it.

A handsome three-incher

one evening did pinch her

she said “Sure—if you’ll Super-Size it.”



What a dark day.

I awoke to a leaky roof in my apartment. That explains our amazingly low rent for a generally high-rent neighborhood right there. And while we travel about the apartment via gondola, the landlord tells us how he is having the roof fixed next week.

Ah, how I hope we can expect such fine service from our police department! When a psycho breaks into my house, it'd be awesome to call 911 and be assured that someone will be out in a week to help out.

Things took a darker turn when I flipped through the business section of the Sun-Times to see that MAD Magazine, after 50 years, is going to start selling ad space.

I... I guess I shouldn't bring this up because I don't have anything even remotely humorous to say about it. It has me rooting for recession, I'll tell you that. Thanks, AOL. You've got ads!

For those who don't know this, I was an intern at MAD Magazine. I occasionally freelance for the publication still. When I was there, there were a lot of pissed-off editors at the mention of Time-Warner's genius scheme to sell subscriber lists. You know, despite the fact that for decades, their subscription cards used to read "OUR PLEDGE: MAD will not sell your name or address to anybody for any purpose whatsoever!" There were threats of quitting the magazine after mere decades.

Kiss it good-bye. Maybe not this year. Maybe not in a few years. Perhaps a slow, pitiful, painful death but...

So MAD will take it's place alongside the Looney Toons characters now shilling for long-distance service and Elvis after he'd gotten fat and all hooched-up. A pitiful cariacture of what it once was.

Maybe those smelly folks who used to pass out communist newspapers outside my college weren't so whacked out after all.

Call the hospital. We're overdosing on capitalism.


Daily Limerick 2/11/2001:

A gay high school fellow named Rock

joined wrestling, a-hoping for cock.

In 10 seconds flat

was pinned to the mat

which cause him to jizz in his jock.



Did you ever stop and think that 99% of all conversation is meaningless?

"Hi!" "So, how are you?" "How was your weekend." All things said out of duty, usually, in which we don't care what the answer is. It's not like someone asks you "How's it going?" and you answer, "Well, I'm a little sick of my job and I'm not getting enough sex. Also, let me tell you about this recurring dream I've been having..."

And it's not only among co-workers and casual acquaintances. Even among friends and lovers. "Man, it's cold!" Chances are, the other person has sensory organs that work, too, and can tell it's cold. "Man, I'd like to do her!" Chances are, your pal can look at the woman in question and figure out that you'd probably do her.

Think about it, next time you have a conversation.



>Argh, why are they going to sell ad space? Noooooo! That'll

>ruin their chance at great parodies, of answering to no one.

>(sigh) Childhood is dead.

>I hate to say it, but it is true. It's not exactly

>privileged information either. I read it in the Chicago Sun-

>Times and I'm sure it's appeared elsewhere.

>Of course, when Spy magazine was actually funny, it had

>advertising. The Onion is hilarious, and it has advertising.

>So maybe things won't be so bad but...

>Well, I guess we'll wait and see. Ah, the tragedies that

>occur when management folks lacking a single creative bone

>in their bodies decide to tinker on a power trip...


Daily Limerick 2/12/2001:

A horny clown who went by Patches

lit candles with care with his matches

he then fucked two dames

and went up in flames

for playing so reckless with snatches.



I am reminded of a time when...

Let me start over. That phrase makes me feel like a priest.

I remember a time when some women were talking about bad sex. Or perhaps a friend was telling me about these women talking about bad sex. And a man piped up and said, "Well, what about when MEN have bad sex?"

And the women replied, "If a man has sex, it's good for him. There's no such thing as bad sex to a man." And the guy thought about it and realized that it was "true."

Well, I beg to differ. I HAVE had bad sex. But I'm sure you'd prefer me to omit details. Something to do with a blind date of sorts (blind dates, by the way, in real life look nothing like on that damn show of the same name).

Aww shucks! Now I started the flashbacks...


Daily Limerick 2/13/2001

There once was a gay man named Judd

whose friend Mick was quite a good bud.

'Til he did fuck guy

and Judd did reply,

"Please, don't be a Mick in the stud!"



Did you ever see those signs they have, well, just about everywhere now that say "Thank you for not smoking"?

I'm thinking of crafting my own to accompany such signs. They'll read "Fuck you for not letting me smoke."

Does anybody who hasn't recently gotten out of prison after a 25-year or longer sting not know that you probably can't light up in a bank? Or the lunchroom of a law firm?


Daily Limerick 2/14/2001:

A prisoner's Valentine's hope

was simply for soap on a rope.

In shower, he bent

and his gift was sent

(instead it was rope with his soap).



When I was a child, for whatever reason, I declared to everyone I knew that one day I would be bald and fat. I don't know why. Perhaps I thought that was the mark of a funny man and I hadn't QUITE developed the cravings for, er, birds and bees action that I have today.

Well, both processes have begun.

I don't think my curse involving my soul for fame and fortune went through, though. Or, knowing my luck in the supernatural manners, perhaps I just sold my soul for... limerick or something.

I SOLD MY SOUL FOR LIMERICK! Available in fine stores now!

(Just kidding-but you gotta admit, it sounds rockin'!)


Daily Limerick 2/15/2001:

In Pioneer Days was a goon

who wore a cap made of racoon.

Exploring’s his cause

(and banging hot squaws—

that's why they called him Daniel Poon).



I've been temping lately, primarily as a legal secreatry (or legal executive assistant, or as legal support-according to which temple of the politically correct you worship in) and, at the risk of cutting off my livelihood (and that of a whole bunch of other people)..

There's really little need for legal secretaries. Especially in this day and age. You don't even have to type envelopes or lables. You cut and paste and pull down a "format" menu and... BAM!

I think it's primarily an ego thing, so I don't expect it to go away. But after the time it takes to speak a document into a dictaphone, then pass it off to the secretary, then set up the dictaphone, listen to the damn thing again and type it out... It would make more sense if attorneys just took a typing class.

Then again, this pays better than any writing-related work I've done, which supports my general theory: The less important your work is to humanity overall, the more you'll be compensated for it.

I have many more example but, think about it yourself and get back to me. Or don't.

Lackadaisical limerick lovin' loonies.


Daily Limeric 2/16/2001:

There was a young fellow named Kelsey

who banged a hot redhead named Chelsey

whose skill was uncanny—

could vibrate her fanny—

and now he won't screw no one elsey.



Why is everything today a "disorder"? Well, because a doctor makes money prescribing a pill for it, which makes money for a drug company somewhere and helps further contradict our "Say No to Drugs" ambigous message!

For instance, now they have a pill for "Social Anxiety Disorder." Can't people just be shy anymore? What ever happened to taking that boy to a hooker-nothing gets your attractiveness level boosted like gettin' laid!

Perhaps that isn't politically correct. But poppin' pills is!



"mpc" checks in with:

>I think the person who came up with the word "lackadaisical"

>got paid too much. Yeah, that's it.

Hmm. If I had a clue as to what was going on with that statement, I'd respond. Maybe there's a pill for his dilemna.


Daily Limerick 2/17/2001:

There was a young fellow named Jim

went skydiving on a crazed whim

landed in a yard

(that convent was marred

when he landed in a nun's quim).



...Continuing on yesterday's theme: Is there a pill yet for "Chronic Asshole Disorder"?

Just asking.


Daily Limerick 2/18/2001:

A girl who had mastered the tricyle

progressed to a ride on a bicycle

she crashed in the snow

and wouldn’t you know?

Somehow was de-flowered by an icycle.



Have you noticed that I've been sending these limericks earlier lately? (Who am I kidding? I don't think any of you pay attention to this. I should be sponsored by SPAM!)

Yeah, I used to send these right around midnight (in whatever time zone I was in) but lately I haven't been.

The reason is unexciting. I know that hasn't stopped me before but, well... Sorry for bringing it up. Was just wondering if anybody out there noticed anything at all.

Did you know that there's now a show ABOUT reality shows. Hosted by Kathy Griffith (or is it Griff-IN?) who won't yet acknowledge that being on "Suddenly Snoozin'" ruined her career.

Now, I can forgive you for watching reality shows, but if you're watching a show ABOUT reality shows... You need to work on sprucing up your own reality a bit.


Daily Limerick 2/19/2001:

There once was a fellow named Kearns

whose dick tingled through all life’s turns.

Banged a girl named Leah

who had gonorrhea

now his dick don’t tingle—it burns.



Does anybody else get the feeling that there is a truly bipartisan group there to make sure Iraq survives and is naughty (not TOO naughty) so that it can be bombed for public approval points and to cover up snafus whenever it's convenient?

There's a new shopping magazine out. Yes, a lot of people (mainly women) just love shopping but... A shopping MAGAZINE? I've chosen to see the silver lining in that dark cloud, however. It's a handy tool for single men. You see a woman with that magazine (unless you're a gazillionaire) and-whammo! It's like a neon sign that says, "She just ain't worth the trouble!"


Daily Limerick 2/20/2001:

They seal you within a jail zone

if home, out, in groups or alone.

Ad men call it “freedom”

(I think we should beat ’em)

there's reason they call them CELL phones.



Everybody's acting all surprised that all the dot-coms went belly-up.

Web sites, in many cases not charging anything for their services... And those services! A glance through the business pages a year back had you wondering what, exactly, any of these sites DID to justify investments into millions of dollars.

Which, in turn, shows that the booming economy was all buoyed by... Well, bull crap. But fitting that the modern economy can really only BE buoyed by bull crap.


Daily Limerick 2/21/2001

A redhead with nipples like grapes

dated men who acted like apes.

Not ’cause of her breasts

but ’cause of their tests

to see if carpet matches drapes.



What ever happened to feminism?

Oh, I know occasionally a women's group today will rant and rave about Eminem or somebody. But Molly Ringwald was on Martha Stewart showing women how to knit mittens. And, if you've ever watched a newer Nickelodeon type cartoon, women are once again the housewives all the time while the men are off earning money. Ally McBeal helps show young girls they can grow up to be lawyers, as long as they only eat once a month.

By the way, I DO consider myself a feminist. I AM pro-porn and not prone to lesbianism or man-hating (of course, not true about all feminists, only some) but, still. Oh, and I'm against breast implants, if that helps my cause.


Daily Limerick 2/22/2001:

A guy seeking to excite Rita

wore a thong patterned like a cheetah.

She had a health kick

so he wrapped his dick

with lettuce and sprouts in a pita.



The Grammys are on as I'm preparing to send this. I'll admit, it's on in the other room, but I'll also mention that I've NEVER watched any masturbatory Hollywood/Music Industry (potato, potahto) awards show all the way through. Okay, one year I watched the American Comedy Awards all the way through, partly because I'd never watched one of these masturbation fests all the way through and partly because felt, well, I'm closest to the pathetic fringes of that industry.

I won't be watching it again.

For those not in the know, I'll make a long story short, explaining how you should consider the Grammys:

1.) Pat Boone won more Grammys than the Beatles.

2.) Jimi Hendrix never won a Grammy (to name one fabulous musician out of a very long list)

3.) Musicians like Santana and Steely Dan never win for the music they'll be remembered for, but only as an afterthought if they're still around and the Grammy folks feel guilty for celebrating so much here-today-gone-tomorrow trash every year.

4.) On the year that Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon came out-an album which is STILL on the top 100 selling albums list-the Grammy for Best Album was given to the Captain and Tenille.

(You can't go ANYWHERE today-colleges, raves-without hearing those geniuses, the Captain and Tenille!)

Just a few examples.


Daily Limerick 2/23/2001:

There once was a fellow named Grunt

whose John Thomas was quite a runt.

Was offered a blow

and dropped his pants low

she said, “Oh—you rolled up a blunt?”






Squirrely checks in with:

>You also seem to be alarmingly pro-Valentine's. Here the holiday is over,

>and yet you're still talking about it in your intro! So are you hyping Feb.

>14, 2002 right now, or what? :)

For your information, I'm still in the habit of leaving a monthly message at the top of my limericks. This harkens back to Daily Limerick's vintage times, before the newfangled "Slappin' and Yappin'." Oddly enough, this guy seems to have read my mind-as I was just thinking that day of eliminating the monthly message altogether. After all, Slappin' and Yappin is daily!

Otherwise, I'm not especially pro-Valentines, at least not more than any other holiday. Valentine's day is a good excuse to get laid. And, in the past, when left single, it has also served as a good excuse to go to a strip club! True, most of the years it's been dreary, a reminder that I was without a partner, but, it is a holiday, so hump 'em if you got 'em!

Speaking of which, you really don't want to know what I do for Arbor Day...


Daily Limerick 2/24/2001:

There once was a girlie quite kinky

one day, rubbing off with her pinky

she saw her little boy

playing with a strange toy

oh my God—how she blasphemed the Slinky!



Some woman actually invented disposable cell phones. They're kinda like calling cards and basically made out of paper. I don't thing they've hit the market yet but, when they do...

Somebody starts yackin' in a theater near you and YOU CAN CRUMPLE THE THING! There is a God!

N'Sync is coming to Chicago. Now, I've seen many a band sponsored by Budweiser or, in clubs out here, anyway, a cigarette maker or something. But N'Sync is sponsored by... And this is no joke, otherwise I'd be jealous of whoever thought it up: They're sponsored by Chips Ahoy!

I can't add to that joke! It's perfect just as it is!

And now, I'll become Henny Youngman for a bit. I know this is corny but I find it funny... At the Grammy's you had Eminem, who caused controversy, causing protesters. You had Emmiem with nuts! Oh, and since they had Madonna kick things off, shouldn't they call them "The Grannys"?

Ha ha, ho ho, I amuse myself and that's all that counts...

By the way, sorry for forgetting yesterday's Slappin' and Yappin'. It's extra fortified today, though.

Ba-doom, CHHHHH!


Daily Limerick 2/25/2001:

A dinosaur scholar named Jeckyl

had an intern, pigtailed and freckled.

She asked him quite a fact-il

of the Pterodactyl

said he, “I’d rather tear a rectal!”



I've been thinking about inventing celebrities lately, and what they'd be like. For instance: Jennifer Love Hewlitt-Packard, Stone "Cold" Phillips, Sheckyelle "Green" O'Neal, William (George) Jefferson Clinton, Harvey Korman Electra, etc.

I find it funny. Don't know why. Not proud of it.

By the way, Happy B-Day to Justine Bateman. Watching Family Ties, I became a Master (of) Bateman, if you know what I mean.

Oh, the depravity of being young, male, and turned in (and on!) to Family Ties.


Daily Limerick 2/26/2001:

A girl viewing Venus, named Shiloh

(whose boyfriend was hung like a silo)

did say of the relic

“Why, it’s quite angelic—

but I prefer Penis de Milo!”



More evidence of Hollywood's "Artistic License" going too far...

The Jennifer Lopez video for "Love Don't Cost a Thing" features Jennifer driving around in a Porsche. Yeah, right...


Daily Limerick 2/27/2001

There once was a fellow named Kotter

who knew nothing of Harry Potter.

He taught at his old school

and remembered one rule

and he called it, “Welcome Back, Blotter!”



I read a review (actually a stock review, written some time ago) about Rob Becker's "Defending the Caveman" recently (as it's running again in Chicago right now). The reviewer didn't say nice things. Which is fine, considering that damn show is responsible for about a decade of comics going off about how men and women are SOOO different.

But one of his big complaints was that the show was HETEROCENTRIC.

Now, that's the type of word you only hear at college symposiums and in beyond-liberal weekly publications. Since "phallocentric" means focusing only on men and ignoring women, I guess "heterocentric" means focusing only on heterosexuals and ignoring homosexuals. Or, I suppose, bisexuals, transsexuals, et. al.

So does this mean that Rob Becker should be adding to his stupid jokes like, "If a woman says she'll call you, she means when she gets home. If a man says he'll call you, he means before he dies. If a gay man says he'll call you, he means... if a lesbian says she'll call you, she means... if a transexual says he or she will call you... if a lesbian transexual trapped in a gay transexual's body says they will call you..."

I would also assume that being "-centric" would make sense in some ways. Not in the instance of "phalocentric," considering there are basically as many women as their are of men. But "heterocentric" makes more sense because, well, about 90 percent of the population IS heterosexual. I don't mean ignoring the fact that non-heterosexuals exist but...

Oh, you know what I mean. And now onto some limerick-centricist poetry.



In response to my crack about Hollywood's "artistic license" showing signs of needing revocation-namely Jennifer Lopez' video for "Love Don't Cost a Thing" showing her driving a Porsche:

>Yes, but in Hollywood, Jennifer Lopez tooling around in a

>Porsche is considered a quiet, reflective night of the soul.

>So why do you hate L.A. again? :)

Jennifer Lopez... tooling around...

Whoops! I just had a reaction much like Homer Simpson saying the word "Donut."

But seriously. Okay, I was just being serious... But more on the topic, I should say:

I don't know what to say. But I don't know if you can say I hate L.A. You might make an argument that I hate the L.A. and Hollywood approach to entertainment. But if you take the "Industry" out of L.A., I don't necessarily hate it. Come to think of it, you take the industry out of L.A. and you have a crummy city with lousy transportation and crummy culture and... Alabama without the humidity, more or less.

Oh, I shouldn't say that. I've never been to Alabama. And I did like Louisiana.

But you know what I mean.


Daily Limerick 2/28/2001:

Bisexual nymphettes from Wales

for kicks at night, snuck into jails.

They’d offer the guys

a blow or their thighs—

their “business” cards read “Head or Tails”.



Why is Bob Dole still on the talk show circuit?

That is all.








In July of 1999, one month before the All Limerick Slam at the 1999 National Poetry Slam festivities, I was bitten by a radioactive Leprechaun and the Daily Limerick was born. Suddenly, my path in life became clear. I was born to be a crusader for uncensored truth, justice and Limerick! Actually, I wanted to get an AUDIENCE for the Limerick Slam I’d be hosting, but I was so amazed at the lack of enthusiasm for the project that I thought I’d send a Daily Limerick indefinitely! Plus, I won the Limerick Slam accidentally and wanted to give something back to the Limerick community! (Not too much, as there was no prize in it for me!) I then committed to at least a year of the limericks—a milestone I’ve already past! At this point, I’m not entirely sure why I’m continuing this, but I have no definite plans to stop—so perhaps I’ll do this for the rest of my life, if we have enough subscribers!

By the way, I guarantee QUANTITY in limericks—one a day. I do not guarantee QUALITY in limericks.


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