Daily Limerick
Archives: March 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)!


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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.

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Daily Limerick 3/1/2001:

A stripper who entertained Vance

(a fellow well-stocked in the pants)

was killed—poor ol’ Beth—

and the cause of death

was listed as “Death by Lap Dance.”



I lost my notebook today.

I have a notebook I always carry around with my grocery list and to write limericks and funny little ideas, which are often helpful toward Slappin' and Yappin'.

So, I've been hit with kryptonite, in a way.

So have yourself a Slap and Yappaccino. We'll get throught this. Together.


Daily Limerick 3/2/2001:

A beef-lovin’ slutsky named Marney

got oral with this guy named Barney

While blowing the oaf

she dined on meat loaf

and called the meal, “Willie con Carne.”




I bought a new notebook. I also called the CTA Lost and Found line to see if anybody found my notebook. So far, no good. My number's in there, but despite this, I fear that many of my limericks have fallen into the hands of the Ruskies. Or, I mean, Iraqies. That's our current enemy, right?

Oh, anyway, I'm still a little flustered over the whole thing but...

I have an "Astronaut Pen" my wife gave me. It's kinda neat, because you can write with it on a wall or something-and it still works! Plus, it will actulally write ON THE MOON (in low gravity)! It'll come in real handy-I mean, don't you hate it when you're on the moon and you have an idea (perhaps a limerick) and you can't write it down?

It'll make it so much easier to bring Limerick to all the other civilizations in the universe!


Daily Limerick 3/3/2001:

A youngster with style rather punky

dyed his hair using too much junky.

His skin did turn pink

and even his dink

shot a pinkish-hued kinda spunky.


Daily Limerick 3/4/2001:

A young man from ol’ Bora Bora

had sex once and craved more-a more-a.

It soon proved quite tough

to have it enough

and so he saw a whore-a whore-a.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 3/3-3/4/2001

Yes, I will be busy, in a way, and thus am sending two days' worth of limerick all at once.

Hey, I'm guessing some of you "subscribers" are also writers or artists and the like, right? Well, don't you love it when somebody gives you the gift of "An Idea"? Like, "Hey, I've got any idea for a story you should write!" Or, "I have a great idea for a poem you can write!" Or, "Need ideas of new things to paint? I have a great idea..." Or, "You should go up and stage and talk about____. The funny thing is-and it's okay if you use this, really..."

Who's spreading this false rumor about us writers, poets, etc., just sitting around thinking, "Damn! I'd write more, but I just have no ideas!" I have WHOLE COMPUTER FILES of JUST IDEAS! The trick is deciding which ones to try, working them up, seeing what works... Is this some ego thing, whereas non-artists use it as a way of saying, "Sure, I could write a helluva novel. Just don't feel like it. But I'm knockin' your socks off with this idea!"


Oh, there are a lot of Hollywood comics who actually DO seek writers. But let's not get into that, it was supposed to go out of fashion when Lenny Bruce wowed the world with his idea to actually write his own material...

Enough of this, I tell myself!


Daily Limerick 3/5/2001:

There once were a couple Iraqis

who got a bade case of the wackies.

They put hot roast beefs

down into their briefs

and jismed all over their khakies.



A relative of mine tried to turn me on to "Cat Video." I should point out that I DO, in fact, have cats. They don't think I'm dull enough to actually enjoy the thing myself-there are birds flying around, rodents on the loose, fish swimming back and forth.

You gotta love this concept. It's not enough that human beings have the equivalent of a TV IV hooked into their veins-it's the only thing really separating us from the other animals. Now we fell compelled to hook our pets into this sad legacy? Of course, the typical network show isn't TOO far beyond the intelligence level of the common household pet...


Daily Limerick 3/6/2001:

A spoiled girl from Upper Manhattan

insisted on fine cheese and satin.

Quite rare were her blows—

she’d turn up her nose

at cocks lacking brie as au gratin.



I've uncovered more evidence that law firms are staffed we people who really aren't needed, except for the egos of others:

As you may know, I've been doing temp work at law firms for far too many months now (although I am finally "in the running" for three editorial positions at this time, so hopefully the hell is soon over). The other day, I was washing out a mug in the sink, and I was just about scolded: "Leave that for the cleaning people!" (It's a "community" mug, as I'm not hauling my own mug in for a temp job.)

From what I can tell, this woman's job is to hang around the kitchen and do something or other. I think she orders foods for meetings and stuff. But what she was saying, if you read between the lines, was, "You have to make work for the cleaning people-so forego the 30 seconds and finger grueling work of watching out that mug! Otherwise, it'll be one less job for me (having somebody come in to wash a few mugs and dishes from attorneys who are "above" such labor) and they may catch on that I'm not really needed around here, shining up the coffee pots and being a little too eager to point out where the paper plates are..."

I'm frightened over these realizations in more ways than one (in a recent S&Y, after spending most of my days sitting around reading and writing as a "legal secretary," I realized that, with all but the most old and ego-adled of attorneys typing most of their own documents, that job seems silly much of the time now). I'm frightened because, well, I don't want recent technology to eliminate the need for even more jobs. But I can't help but wonder... What percentage of our society is gainfully employed doing utter nonsense?


Daily Limerick 3/7/2001:

A group sex cult out of Pyongyang

of cosmology often sang.

Their universe theory

made newcomers query

they called its birth “The Big Gang Bang.”



I just got through reading a Sun-Times op-ed by some guy lamenting the cause of feminism. Now, I empathize with the guy because I agree. Or I think I agree (I couldn't finish the column after a few sentences). I consider myself a feminist, considering its core philosophy, and regret it's somehow "become" the philosophy of Ally McBeal (you can make it as an attorney, girls, if you forget about that silly nutrition) and female athletes (women can beat their spouses and fail repeated drug tests, too).

But this guy, in explaining core values of feminism, says feminists are "opposed to domestic violence and sexual harrassment."

Wow! How radical! Most of society is in favor of grabbing handfuls of ass in the workplace and roughing up the women in their life.

Knucklehead. Ah, modern journalism! All thanks to... I'll save it for another day.

But, again, I must say: Knucklehead.


Daily Limerick 3/8/2001:

Third slate candidates, often tardy

(the ticket of Ballsout and Hearty)

did keggers and bongs

and wore out their schlongs—

now THAT’S a political party.



I thought I'd leave you with a little "Found Humor" for today.

I got the idea from a poet friend of mine, Daniel X. O'Neil. He's a Chicago poet who actually majored in poetry and he self-publishes poetry books, actually makes a little money off of them, and tours the country. Okay, he doesn't really make money touring, but it pays for his hotels and plane fare and stuff and he at least gets to vacation off of his poetry.

He had a thing called "Found Poetry." He'd find it, oh, in stuff like obituaries or on hand-driers or potato chip bags. I think the concept is self-explanatory.

Well, here's a few headlines form a recent Chicago Sun-Times:

"Education, Wealth Linked: Study"

Who would've thunk it!

"College Costs Too High for Low Income Students: Panel"

Man, I'm glad they got that panel together! What shocking news!

That is all.



>Hey, John. I just want to show you that you've been exceeding expectations

>-- as in, you've been sending the entire month's worth for two days in a

>row. Not that I mind, of course. :) This should be a desk calendar, and by

>the end of the week, ripping off sheet after sheet, the office worker will

>get repetitive stress disorder. And perhaps a chuckle.

Oh boy. Whoops. What can I say. I guess I just have to keep sending them, pretending it didn't happen.

Good to know somebody's paying attention, though.

A desk calendar... You know, I tried to sell that idea to greeting card companies and nobody took the bite. I think it would be delightful, and a cause of sexual harrassment lawsuits everywhere!


Daily Limerick 3/9/2001:

There once was an actress named Sadie

whose roles, were, well, far from a Brady.

She got her screen start

with a doctor part

as “Doctor Quim, Medicine Lady.”



I recently noticed that videos now begin with a listing of the title, artist and THE DIRECTOR. It's not that I've been in a cave for a while but, who really analyzes videos beyond the T&A Factor? Most of the time, anyway...

Isn't a video, for a director, much like paint-by-numbers, for an artist?


Daily Limerick 3/10/2001:

There once was a stripper named Judy

who took to this sailor—a cutie.

She ground on his groin

and bruised up his loin

(was injured in the line of booty).



I saw a headline today about how Erin Blockheadovich... Er, Erin Brokovich "Struggles with Fame" now.

(I don't know why I'm so fascinated with headlines lately.)

No, you STRUGGLE with cancer. You STRUGGLE with addiction (just ask VH-1). You STRUGGLE with extreme poverty.

Unless, of course, you STRUGGLE with too many blow-jobs as well.


Daily Limerick 3/11/2001:

A wild pre-pubescent boy satyr

became quite a fine masturbator.

Once caught with his steiner

in plush ol’ recliner

he was dubbed the young furni-cator.



And yet another interesting band concept I have nowhere to go with:

Pink Floyd the Barber


Daily Limerick 3/12/2001:

There once was a kinky young fellow

who coated his mistress in Jello.

His fingers and mouth

went from North to South—

he played that dame much like a cello.



Here's a frightening little song I once thought up:

You keep sayin', please leave me alone

but I can't shake this throbbing purple bone

These boots were made for stalkin'

and that's what will occur

I swear one of these days I'm goin' to lick and handcuff her.

(By the way, it was a joke. I hope you knew that, though.)



>Where can I sign up?

I think this fellow is referring to the "Struggling with too many blow-jobs" crack in the March 10 Slappin' and Yappin'.

I don't know where to sign up, but it sure as hell ain't here.

Check the ads in the back of your weekly city newspapers. Or become President.


Daily Limerick 3/13/2001:

A girl who ne’er came, name of Sutton

took her taxes to E.F. Hutton.

One loop-hole they found—

she bayed like a hound!—

the “loop-hole” was called “The Love Button.”



I found out today that a co-worker of mine, whom I knew was an actor, is an actor in musical theater. Then, I noticed him humming quite a bit and I got as far away as possible.

I don't want to hear anybody singing. Maybe I'm a victim of modern life-I know it was a treasured activity in times gone by-but it's really the last thing I want to hear. If you have a good band and you're all miked up and rockin', hey, sing away, but otherwise, shut up.

Naturally, I'm especially disturbed over this karaoke trend. Pop music has basically BECOME karaoke to begin with-no message, just dancing and being a "diva." In fact, the entire art of singing has become passe, I think, because any idiot can get his or her voice cleaned up in the studio.

I guess what I have to say is this: If you didn't write it, don't sing it. We're unimpressed.


Daily Limerick 3/14/2001:

A Cath’lic dead ringer for J-Lo

successfully from vice did lay low.

At 30, this virgin

met a charming surgeon

who banged her right out of that halo.



You know how life has it's little soundtracks? Like, you see a good lookin' girl walk by and "Good God in Heaven You Know I Love You - ba da dum ba da..." plays? Or perhaps you're having a bad day at work and "Take This Job and Shove It" cues up? Or perhaps an annoying co-worker of yours gets "Mambo Number Five" in your head?

Well, I've had "Somewhere, Over the Rainbow" in my head all day. Which, despite the wedding ring, really works wonder toward promulgating the image of questionable sexuality. You see, I've noticed lately that I'm a rare, heterosexual, male temp (secretarial) worker.

Of course, I must also say this: Not that there's anything WRONG with that. But I'd rather not be seen as gay simply because, well, I'm not gay. Call that homophobic if you will, but I imagine most gay guys would rather not be thought to be hetero. At least once they're out of the closet. So they're all heterophobic.

So I've got the secreataril temp thing working against me. I'm not much for sports to begin with and now I'm working on getting a sketch comedy group together, which can qualify as "theater," or sorts. And by the way, I do love theater. Although I'm not fond of musicals, unless they involve Mel Brooks.

But lately I've been writing a sketch that's loosely based on "The Wizard of Oz," so I've been carrying around a Cliff Notes-esque version of the movie I printed off the Web. Plus, I've got "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" going through my head and, from past experience, I might have accidentally sang a few bars under my breath in the lunch room or something.

Sometimes, I "rock things up" in my head, though, and I have that going for me (and my sexuality).  There's a lot of screaming guitar and drum riffs thrown into this version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," pal.

So there.


Daily Limerick 3/15/2001:

That cat, Ricky Martin, does cause it—

wild lust in young girls—but I posit:

Will he prime young beaver

or lose their Rick Fever

when he fin’lly exits the closet?



I lost another notebook today. That's a real sour note.

If you'll recall, I very recently lost another notebook, and I filled you in on its importance.

I should've known dire events were in store. That guy I mentioned earlier, the musical actor who'd been ominously humming? He did break into song today, albeit briefly. A prelude to absolute terror in the near future.

Wow! I indexed two former Slappin' and Yappin' topics today and intertwined them. Kind Pulp Fiction like, or something.


Daily Limerick 3/16/2001:

A short-skirted Chickie named Puffin

bent over the stove—showing muffin.

The on-site young plumber

then gave her a thumber

and thus a first-rate stove-top stuffin’.



File this under "Duh of the Week":

McDonald's decides that its "Made for You" marketing scam was a bad idea.

Hmm... Let's see. Take a, er, "restaurant" that is only in business because it's fast, and decide to make all sandwiches only once they're ordered, thereby slowing things down, eliminating the whole reason the business exists.

I'm glad this backfired. It may help kill a similar trend elsewhere.

It really pisses me off that White Hen has a deli counter. You go to White Hen to grab a beverage quickly (or a bag of chips or whatever you really need but don't want to go to the grocery store for). Then they put in a damned sandwich counter. At first, they added staff to work the fresh deli counter, but you knew it couldnt' last. So instead of getting out in 2 minutes with my coffee, I wait behind some asswipe too cheap to shell out another 50 cents for a sandwich at any actual restaurant asking for "easy on the mustard... heavier on the mayo... NOT SO HEAVY... Sure, some lettuce, but just a sprinkling... uh, could you take off two or three shavings of that lettuce? And come to think of it, I DO want olives but.. could you dice them instead of slicing them..."

Get fresh sandwiches out of convenience stores!


Daily Limerick 3/17/2001:

An Irish slut, name of Yvonne

chased the rainbow to the beyon’.

Despite tales a-told

found no pot of gold

but she did screw a leprechaun



I sit at a lot of different desks, normally sat in by a lot of different people, at my floating temp job.

And I've come to conclusion that there are a lot of ugly kids out there.

Oh, I know that's not nice to say. "Children are beautiful," "Kids are like flowers," blah blah blah.

But there are a lot of very, very ugly children in the world.

Oh, I'm sure they're all beautiful inside. Except the ones that body slam other kids to death, and shoot up schools and...

I'm going back to my original position: There are a lot of terribly ugly kids out there.



A little late, but...

In response to the March 14 limerick (about Ricky Martin one day coming out of the closet), the Whirlin' Squirrel writes:

>Yes, but Ron Halford of Judas Priest fronted one of the heaviest bands of

>his day, and he's not shy about his sexuality anymore. :) And whoever put

>Mambo No. 5 in your head is gay, too! Oh wait, that was me! Um...

Once again, there's nothing WRONG with that...

But even Dan Savage (of the sex column "Savage Love" fame) said Ricky Martin ought to just come out of the closet.

And it's ROB Halford. (I'm a recovering metal head from high school.)

He didn't come out of the closet until years after his heyday. Which is usually part of the plan. George Michael. Ricky's waiting. It gets news coverage when PR is tough.

Not that there's anything WRONG with that.

Well, actually, there is something wrong with that. You should come out when you're riding high-that will encourage more youngsters who are gay by saying ALL SORTS OF COOL GUYS are gay. (Wink, wink, nudge nudge you scores of "Hollywood Hunks." C'mon-we all saw what our high school drama clubs were like.)

So there is something wrong with that PR scheme.

But again, not that there's anything wrong with THAT. (The original that, fools!)


Daily Limerick 3/18/2001:

A slutty housewife, Kit Carbunkel

whose brother in law, Art Garfunkel

quite often came over

and their one son, Grover,

was secretly called “Boy from U.N.C.L.E.”



Does anybody here have any Ethnic Albanians in their home?

I'm just asking because I'm hearing so much about them and I'm wondering if they make good pets.

I know they've caused a lot of trouble on occasion, but I also know there are two sides to every story. Like cats, I know there is a certain faction of people that simply hates Ethnic Albanians.

From what I gather, they are easy to toilet train-yes, I think you don't even need a litter box. But what do they eat? I know you're supposed to be careful with other pets-for instance, if you have a Serb Muslim in the house or something.

Oh well. Just seeing if any Ethnic Albanian owners out there want to give me some tips.


Daily Limerick 3/19/2001:

There once was a gay boy named Fritz.

O’er a banana did splits.

Felt good in his anus

but it turned quite heinus

when he got the banana shits.



This question has probably crossed the mind of any guys out there who live with, or have lived with, a woman:

Why do you have to clean the shower-considering it's a place always besieged by soap and hot water?

Happy Fred Rogers' birthday to everyone-maybe tying your shoes and wearing a blue sweater will take your mind off the fact that it's also the anniversary of Randy Rhoads' death!


Daily Limerick 3/20/2001:

A world-travelin’ pervert named Gertz

would milk some jizz over all flirts.

He’d keep it in jars—

his, favorite? By far—

was that labeled his “Brussels Spurts.”



Now that the Puff Daddy trial is over, how long do you think it will be until MTV News actually has something vaguely bordering on news to cover?


Daily Limerick 3/21/2001:

An odd phenom for Seymour Butts

was that his scrotum talked to sluts.

“Hello!” it once said

to one giving head

who then replied, “What are you, nuts?”



I read the other day about how "Pet Bakeries" have sprung up. They don't bake your pets-they bake TREATS FOR your pets. Which got me to thinking... Maybe it's not so bad the economy's taking a hit.


Daily Limerick 3/22/2001:

A woman, once sexu’lly spicy

is now actually fairly icy.

Her gifts from one man

(a wild one-night stand)

included some pets called crab licey.



Lately, there is a proliferation of magazines like "Maxim."  They contain stories about stereos and cars and dating and stuff-most of which is never read by 90 percent of all those who pick up an issue-but mostly attract readers thanks to pictorials of women. In bathing suits or otherwise scantily dressed.

I'm having trouble understanding this.

Do these people realize they can pick up magazines with the women actually naked? Are they're anti-pornography significant others that easily fooled? "Oh, honey, I just LOVE these articles on grooming for men-so what if there happen to be scantily clad women for pages and pages!"

And to their women... A guy thumbing through Maxim is seeing Cindy Margolis in a pose much like one from Hustler, regardless of the bathing suit or other particulars of how the photo physically looks. Going a step up to porn just makes it a touch easier on the imagination muscle.

Likewise, the bathing suits advertised in the Sunday paper... Porn. Just not as refined as Penthouse. It's kind like... He bought tollhouse cookie baking mix instead of a box of cookies.

Of course, I am a fierce porn advocate, but it should be kept to the privacy of one's own... doings. A cat and mouse game. You know he has it, you may start a fight if you find it but... Not a crime.

Porn. The American way. Pick some up today.

Again, what's the deal with Maxim...


Daily Limerick 3/23/2001:

A girl named Blanch—slut beyond doubt—

of sex with her, most men could tout.

’Cept Prideful ol’ Dwight

’til desp’rate one night

when he thought it time to Blanch out.



Don't the "Independent Film Awards" kind of, well, defeat the purpose of...

Oh, never mind.


Daily Limerick 3/24/2001

Confirmed home-town rock star, ol’ Lupé

each ev’nin’ did bang up a groupé

he “Up’d” one so well

KNOCKED her up, as well

and fin’ly Lupé fled the coupé.



The other day, my wife said to me, "I think I'd like to get my hair done like Faith Hill's was at the Grammys. What do you think?"

Now, I didn't really watch the Grammys. It was on in the background because I feel I should pay more attention to such things because they're such fine fun-making fodder. But even if I had sat and intently watched...

How should I know?

I she'd have said, "I'd like to get a push up bra to make my breasts look just like Faith Hill's at the Grammys" I'd know where she was coming from, but otherwise...

If your head's shaved flat (or something equally outrageous) or you've got a cut everybody's copying (ala Jennifer Aniston a few years back), perhaps I'll notice, but if not...

Concentrate more on the push-up bra.



Nut collector checks in with:

>Regarding Maxim: It must be the crisp writing, the taut insights and the

>literary reviews. Actually, I think it's bought by people with Madonna/whore

>complexes. I'll admit, I bought one once, and didn't understand all the

>fuss. I can't even tell the pictorials from the ads. It's not "teasing" or

>"provocative" to see women in these poses, just boneheaded. (pun intended?)

Madonna/whore complexes... That's the thing where guys can't bang their wives because, well, there are two types of women: Nice girls to marry and naughty girls to Whoo-ha.

I think. Unless you're referring to MTV's Madonna, with the non-shocking videos that she calls "Shocking," convincing those who will be convinced by MTV, namely people who could be convinced the moon is made of Havarti if Carson Daly says so. (Everybody knows the moon is made of Camembert.)


Daily Limerick 3/25/2001

A crab who partook of libation

and engaged in self-fornication

just liked it too much—

he loved his own touch—

they dubbed him the mastur-crustacean.



Glad to see Scientology is really helping Kirstie Ally's career, with the new Crate & Barrel commercials and all. (Or is it Pier One? I get those places confused.)


Well, I shouldn't be picking out any one religion for fun-making (as I see them all ripe for the process) but... It's even harder to sympathize with a religion that someone attracts the rich and famous.

Is David Arquette a Scientologist-or is his career of his own making?


Daily Limerick 3/26/2001:

A wood nymph was found by Joe Spivy

he quickly gave her a muff divey.

’Twas strange, but her beave’s

lips were much like leaves

and his face broke with poison ivy.



A question:

With about a half-dozen "Crazy Teen Comedies" out now (of which, I cannot tell the difference between them)... Does the word "Outrageous" mean anything anymore? Is it even still in the dictionary at this point?


Daily Limerick 3/27/2001:

A cactus succumbed to a trick

by a nympho and scientist chick.

In the lab, all alone

gave it testosterone

and grew her very own hairy prick.



What's the big deal with back rubs?

(Now, don't go calling me a Seinfeld wannabe. I said "What's the Big Deal?" instead of merely "What's the Deal?")

But seriously... No, that's wrong, too.

But, ridiculously, I don't see what the whole back rub craze is about. Women are always yappin' (but not, of course, slappin' and yappin') about back rubs. I've even heard that they're "better than sex," which always frightens me because I have a sneaky suspicion that, should something arise that actually is, indeed, better than sex, well... Us guys will be completely out of luck.

Perhaps something is wrong with me. I've always found a massage... tickling, or something. In short, well, I don't like 'em. And I certainly would prefer a blow job to a back rub, any old day of the week. Even if, years down the road, I throw my hip out and can't even walk. Gimme the blow job first, then we'll deal with the little matter of me bein' able to stand up.

Of course, a blow job is seen as a request that's... Evil, I guess? But you can ask for a back rub left and right and it's just not fair! I'm been offered more back rubs than blow jobs in my life.

I've begun a program called "Back rubs for blow jobs" but my wife hasn't exactly bought into it. I just don't get it! A blow job is a hell of a lot quicker than rubbin' up my damn back!

There are now these businesses downtown called "The Ultimate Back Rub." People actually go and pay for the damn back rubs! Now, I imagine folks would frown if I were to open "The Ultimate Blow Job."

And then there's this office I'm still temping at (I have the feeling that I've become a permanent temp, as oxymoronical as it sounds). They actually have a woman come in about once a week and you can schedule a back massage! Just to even things up, why don't they hire somebody to...

Ahem. Well. Enough for today.


Daily Limerick 3/28/2001:

A man with a monkey, named Cecil,

while griding his organ met Liesel.

Who was so impressed

she lifted her dress

and, don’t you know, “Pop!” went his weasel.



And now, from your Primary Source for Bozo News...

Bozo is being cancelled.

First Slappin' and Yappin' published a breaking investigative report (or something like that) on how the Head Limericist here had a dream as a young child. A dream that he'd one day be... The New Bozo! His first hero was Bozo! And you can't really say he's failed on ALL counts, now, can you? He doesn't have as much hair, but he's been labeled a clown and does have big shoes!

Then, Cookie died. And now... WGN has said that the show will be cancelled.

This is not breaking news. It happened within the week but, well, our Investigative Slapper and Yappers were asleep at the wheel. But, we repeat, especially for those of you outside the Greater Chicago Metropolitan area, Bozo is being cancelled.

I'd give you the exact dates but... Well, as I mentioned, we're asleep at the wheel. Suffice it to say that Bozo is not off the air yet, but it will be soon.

As soon as Slappin' and Yappin' because a major source of news on a subject, it folds.

Hmm. Maybe we should be become the premier source for news on that new sitcom "Yes Dear"...



Mr. "He Likes it" check in with:

>I just had to tell ya, the name of your envisioned boutique, "The Ultimate

>Blowjob," had me laughing out loud. And not that phony internet lol crap -

>I mean a real, honest to goodness laugh! Thanks for the smile.

Funny, the way humor works, isn't it? I suppose I thought that was a little funny while typing it, but, well, I guess it's just the mood you're in, the way you envision it, that makes anything funny.

But why am I telling you about why people find hair-brained little episodes of ridiculosity funny? You're Daily Limerick subscribers!


Daily Limerick 3/29/2001:

A strict evangelical felt

a spank sinners all should be dealt.

What’s odd ’bout his duty

is only fine booty

was punished by his Bible belt.



Some signs of hope recently in the news:

The March 18 Chicago Tribune reported that "Many mergers aren't seeing the profits that were originally expected." Hmm. So we may have more than 6 companies for whom to work for in five years?

The 2001 Academey Awards had the lowest ratings in history. Could it be that... Perhaps society is collectively growing a brain and giving less than a shit about a bunch of spoiled ass wipes (who mostly act the same role over, and over, and over again) making flicks for the 18-24 bracket (most of which are remakes of something already made, with non-original soundtracks capitalizing on songs that were already hits years ago as an "easy sell") and collectively masturbating all over themselves in one awards show out of 525+?

A Kentucky college student happened to win a date with Jessica Simpson-and didn't know who she was! He heard it was a contest to "win a date with a celebrity" and then, well, as opposed to some brain-dead knucklead stroking her Disney Frankenstein Teen Monster ego for a half hour, she sat across with some guy (let's hope he did a few bongs) who asked her stuff like, "So, WHAT is it you do? And HOW does that make you different from Britney Aguilara and Christina Spears... Or whoever they are?"

More proof that there is, perhaps, a God!


Daily Limerick 3/30/2001:

A famed, virgin hunter hamed Pickens

engaged in his first pussy lickin’s.

He’d tried everything

gazelle to bat wing

but exclaimed, “This don’t taste like chicken!”



So I saw that Brooke Shields was a guest star on "Just Shoot Me" last night.

Let me get this straight. You star in a sitcom widely regarded as one of the most horrible things to ever grace the small screen (Suddenly Snoozin'... er, Suddenly Susan), and prove to the world that you can't even act. Now, any idiot can act. Six-year-olds play pretend adequately. So you're so butt stupid you can't even play PRETEND with some degree of ceredibility and...

Now, in order to be a guest star, you must be IN DEMAND. So you hideously fail, which promotes you to "in demand."

Gotta love that Hollywood way of doing things.


Daily Limerick 3/31/2001:

There once was a fellow named Seaver

who caught the disco-dancing fever.

Found sexual glory

and so his life story

was titled “Saturday Day Night Beaver.”



Is it just me, or does it seem that, the more intelligent society gets with science and what have you, the stupider people get on an individual level?









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.


If you want to be on John Biederman’s e-list for comedy, sketch and/or poetic performances (in Chicago, Los Angeles or elsewhere), let me know!


©1999-2001 John “Sloop” Biederman. All Rights Reserved.


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