Daily Limerick
Archives: October 2001

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


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Daily Limerick 10/1/2001:

Election turned our minds to mush

the high court gave ’em a strong push

but since it’s now war

we cheer with a roar

the acts and thrust of Dick ’n‘ Bush.



I was originally going to use today’s S&Y to declare my fundamental right to be wishy-washy. And I guess I still am. But there’s more of a point.

Originally, I thought that I’d say I was sorry about anything I fired off over the course of the tragedy and its aftermath as, well, sometimes I write something I don’t mean 100 percent or so. Actually, after re-reading those S&Y’s, there was nothing I’d exactly want to retract, although there were some things I might have said differently.

That happened with my college columns, too. I’d write something, it’d go to print and... Well, a little later, although I wouldn’t exactly say I didn’t MEAN what I wrote, I, well, wished I was a little more clear.

I guess it’s the nature of the biz. But if you go correcting and clarifying all the time, you wouldn’t write all the wonderful new content. I think it’s even worse for this little train wreck, as e-mail has a way of prompting you into giving your “mouth” preference over your head.

This topic reared it’s funny-looking head when I read about anti-war protesters today.

In the past, I praised the WTO protesters and such simply because I was glad that SOMEBODY was protesting something after living through the especially-lazy-minded decade known as the ’80s.

I’m still happy that people are protesting things but... Here’s the thing. This group of knuckleheads was preparing to protest a WTO summit, and that was canceled. So they figured, “What the hell? We gotta protest SOMETHING.” And they decided instead to protest the war on terrorism.

I don’t wanna get into the who “This ain’t Vietnam, idiots” arguments again. But, isn’t there something wrong when a mass of group-think-oriented individuals just decide to protest whatever the hell comes along?

I suppose things weren’t all that much better in the ’60s and stuff. I have an old issue of MAD that has the “Student Protest Preview” instead of a “Pigskin Preview.” While good causes are sometimes at the core of these movements, idiocy is always running rampant.

Let’s admit it. We’re a bunch of goddamned idiots. Every one of us. But, God bless the fact, for what kind of world would we have to make fun of if it wasn’t full of chowderheads?

Let stupidity ring!


Daily Limerick 10/2/2001:

A stripper friend who let me bop

while she’d lap dance, lacking her top.

Once, in private booth

kicked in, her sweet tooth

and I let her have my blow pop.



Which came first, the chicken or the egg?

I’m eagerly awaiting your thoughts, the semi-loyal readers of DL and S&Y, on this pressing matter.


Daily Limerick 10/3/2001:

A stalker who was quite disturbin’

snuck into dames homes after bourbon.

And from these chicks’ shanties

he’d steal all their panties

and wear them around like a turban.



I just heard Jane Pauly use the following segue:

“But what about the children?”

I just saw a news piece on an 11-year-old who’s climbing some mountain to raise funds for the Sept. 11 tragedy victims.

Life is quickly becoming a cartoon.


Sorry, I just had to dodge that falling anvil.

Oh, and I thought up another term for masturbating: Saddling the seahorse.




>Who you callin' a chowderhead? Clam up!

Oh, you’re just bein’ shellfish.

>That message came out scrambled. You deviled, you. I'm going to fly out to

>Chicago and beat some sense into you. I don't have much money, so I'll have

>to fly poach.

>The Egg Man

This was not the intellectual level I expected from “What came first--the chicken or the egg?”


Daily Limerick 10/4/2001:

If you can’t serve your country in war

well pretend that you can--I implore!

Live a life ever bolder

and make like you’re a soldier--

take home and bang a foreign whore!



It was once considered acceptable for a composer to take a composition from another composer and play with it a bit. The resulting composition was considered original and was also seen as a tribute to the composer of the piece that was elaborated upon.

That was in an age before copyright lawyers. It was also during a time when artists were a little more pure, doing such things out of a desire to elaborate on a beloved theme, as opposed to seeking easy money through rip-offs. A time long before “Can’t Touch This” and “Ice, Ice Baby” were possible.

Thus, it was okay for Brahms to write, “Variations on Beethoven’s Seventh,” or whatever.

I’m gonna get extremely old school, you could say, and elaborate on a theme as a writer.

In the Sept. 27 edition of The Onion (and, yes, I’ve heard much commentary, good and bad, on said issue), the satirical publication tackled the Sept. 11 tragedy in its own, signature way.

I am thus publishing this, “Variations on a Theme by Onion, 9/7 p. 1, Opus 27 1/2.3”:

“American Life Turns into Bad Jerry Bruckheimer Movie.”

Perhaps the modern age is much of the reason behind our growing, collective cultural retardation. Or at least it goes a long way toward explaining why fiction and creative nonfiction are becoming obscure little entertainment avenues, replaced not only by television and movies but also by celebrity bios. (Which reminds me of an older Onion headline, “The Arts--What Were They?”)

But I believe modern life has gone beyond a bad action thriller. It’s also become science fiction--and not only in a good way. Like the scary kinda, doomsday science fiction (in which, lest I scare you, the good guys do sometimes come out ahead in the end, so you never know). People are buying up gasmasks and stocking up on antidotes to diseases they may be bombed with.

And, although I’ve said this before, life’s becoming some sort of sitcom and/or MAD Magazines feature or at least a humorous commercial. I saw one of those completely annoying cell phone shills with Jamie Lee Curtis, where two people are messengering each other via the cell phones during a wedding. Using that joke-writing logic, up until not too many years ago that would’ve been funny. Exaggeration to absurdity. Only now, it’s not absurd. I have no doubts whatsover that the “exaggeration” in the commercial is actually quite common.

I feel I should go further in my “Variations.” But I won’t.


Daily Limerick 10/5/2001:

There once was a fellow named Arden

helped the neighbor girl in her garden.

She bent to mind tubers

down shirt, he saw boobers

and his helpful instinct did harden.



Whoo hooh!

I’m so happy the Cubs were eliminated from the playoffs!

Does that sound strange to you? Knowing I’m from Chicago? I mean, I’m actually more of a Sox fan (but not a big b-baller to begin with), but that wouldn’t explain this attitude.

The Cubs represent, in fact, the reason I find sports a little... Off-kilter.


Ain’t’ gonna happen.

Yahoos loaded up with beer and expensive, wimpy wieners will ALWAYS pack the place. Why bother shelling out or making too much effort toward having a good team? Get ONE good player for a little excitement and that’s all those masters of moronity pack the joint.

My apologized to any Cubs fan subscribers. You know that you are an exception, if you have such fine taste in e-publications.

Some will blather on and on about being a “True Fan.” “Root for your team through thick and thin, dude--be a TRUE FAN, like me!”

What a marketing scam.

If a friend of yours loved to eat at Wacky Burger, let’s say, because he found it the best fast food burger, and one day he ate one that gave him serious, dangerous and frightening food poisoning... Would you say, “Oh, man! You’re not a TRUE WACKY BURGER FAN! You stick with your Wacky Burger through thick and thin, dudesicle”?

Of course not. And sports teams are just products. You watch, and they get money from advertisers. Perhaps you buy the T-shirts and the bobble-head dolls and whatever, too.

The Cubs are like a cold, grey Wacky Burger, overcooked with wilted lettuce atop.

You avoid such products.

If they ever do actually win, perhaps I’ll change my mind. Some may thus label me a “fair weather fan.”

I was sort of a Bulls fan for a while. Few years back, at this point. If you catch my drift. If you dig my new clam shovel.

“Dig my new clam shovel”--the new catchphrase on the cusp of sweeping the nation. Use it often. Be hip to the jive.

Oh well. I guess I’m not a “life-threatening hurricane-weather” fan.



>You make some variate good points. :p

I first thought, “Our Staff Letter Writer is really tired or something. He fired off a pun that didn’t even make sense.”

Then I thought more about it. And I got the pun.

But now believe it is perhaps the worst pun in the history of the universe.



Daily Limerick 10/6/2001:

There once was a lady from China

who made love to her birdie Mynah.

When you hear her words

it might be the bird

(the damn thing’s stuck in her vagina).



I’m going to date myself with this remark, but here goes:

I remember a time when “Friends” was a sitcom. You know, an antidote to the drama and seriousness of other shows?

I swear to God. It once was.



>    The  Cubs?  A Marketing Scam?  Oh, surely you jest...(which is I guess your  line of work, so maybe that's ok...)   Anyways, let me try to explain.  When I was a  child, my father always took me to Cubs games, tho I wanted to go watch the  Sox.  I didn't give a damn about the Cubs.  The White Sox had Gary  Peters and Pete Ward and a bunch of other guys who eventually faded into  obscurity (at least I never heard of them after about 1963...).  But then  Ernie Banks hit his 500th home run on my 20th birthday (a few years passed  quickly in this story), and I realized that the woeful yet valiant Cubs actually  epitomized all that was good about sports (damn, that's a lot to read into a  homer, but what the hell...).  They struggled every year, they always  finished last, but they did it with a smile on their faces.  Individual  smiles, actually, one on each face.   In any  other endeavor, this might be referred to as either masochism or some syndrome  involving poor self-esteem, I'm sure.  But one of my father's relatives  lived in one of those brownstone apartments where the home runs always go, so  that might explain why we went to Cubs games. Somewhere to stop and take a leak  before hitting the highway back to Gary.   I  forget by now what my point was, but the new point is that I continue the  Cubs/masochism tradition even as an adult, by going to or watching IU (that's  Indiana) football, since Wrigley Field is no longer easily accessible.   They are 0 and woeful this year, and promise only to get worse.  Not only  that, but the concessions at these events have evolved to where you can get a  latte` at gate 7, or have a pizza delivered to your seat from Dominoes.   Whatever happened to beer and a hot dog?  It was good enough for The  Babe...   And  one last thing...after going to a number of sporting events since the Sept. 11  thing, I think I now know why the resumption of those sorts of things was so  necessary to help people feel better.  They play the Star-Spangled banner  at the start, and for most people, that's the only time they get to hear it,  since the advent of 24-hour tv.  People have been craving patriotic music,  and where better to hear those famous last lines, "The Land of the Free and the  Home of the Brave...Play Ball"  


>Everything has been thought of before, but the problem is to  think of it again. -Goethe

Whoooh boy. Bash the peaceniks, advocate disruptive protests and nobody bats an eye. “Letters to the Idiot” sits here like a barren wasteland. But bash the Cubs and...

And here’s another:

>In a message dated 10/4/01 10:48:44 PM Central Daylight Time, sloop49@earthlink.net writes:




>If they ever do actually win, perhaps I’ll change my mind. Some may

>thus label me a “fair weather fan.”



>I was sort of a Bulls fan for a while.






>You obviously don't 'get' sports. 


>You're as bad as the people you rip on. Wrigley sells out because it is a tourist attraction. That's not to say that the people who ARE Cubs fans don't understand baseball. It's no different from when the Bulls were winning and everyone in town could tell you how many points Jordan had the previous night. But, could they tell you the number of assists Paxon had? No.. they were just following a fad at the risk of being unpopular instead of truly enjoying something for their OWN desires.


>Maybe it's as arcane as the people who ran around in 1988 saying "Hmmph... I was a REM and U2 fan BEFORE they were 'popular'..." but that's how it is.


>I've been a Bulls fan since my family moved to Chicago in 1976 when I was 7. One of the first things the other neighborhood kids did was take me to one of the Bulls' practice sessions. (They used to be open to the public at Angel Guardian's gym in Rogers Park if you can believe that...). The players were always cool to the kids, and, after practice they would occasionally stick around to practice their dunks, just so we dumb-ass kids could scream in delight. (Looking back, those dunks were pretty frickin' lame... but this was before the dunk became the damn NBA logo..)


>So, when the Bulls SUCKED from 77-83, I was a fan. When they started turning it around, I was a fan. And when they started beating the SHIT out of everyone during those championship seasons, it was near heaven for me as a Bulls fan. Yeah, I got irritated with all the bandwagon fans, but that's how it always is. Something becomes popular, and everyone jumps all over it for fear of not looking cool.


>The difference is perspective. I'm pissed as hell with the Bulls right now for seemingly destroying the franchise. I don't blindly offer my loyalty, but at the same time, I don't jump ship just because they suck right now. I was a Bulls fan when they sucked before, and I think that made the championship years sweeter for me. In the same regard, as a Cubs fan, I'm impressed with the direction they are heading. Yeah- they didn't make the playoffs. But as a FAN and not as a casual observer, I'm pleased with what I see coming in the next few years.


>Sports is nothing but a hobby. But, one that can get people quite impassioned. Other people choose to get their undies in a bunch over music ("Ugh... did you hear how REM has SOLD OUT now?") or television ("If I don't watch each episode of ER, I think I'll DIE!") or movies ("How can they put out such tripe as that? Why aren't all movies like Ghost World?")


>It's just geekery. But, some of us are loyal to our geekery, and that to me is an admirable quality. I'd rather see someone stick with a team that sucks than someone who runs out to 'root' for whatever team is winning. THAT is what sports fandom is about. Loyalty. Otherwise, then it IS more about marketing than ever. ("Try the new Lakers Burger! Everyone is eating one!")


>Andy Lurie

>Comic, Sports Fan, Cantankerous old bastard.

You know, in some ways, I DO understand sports. I went to a small high school and played sports (actually was first-string in football and wrestling) and if I watch a game, I will enjoy it.

But I have a lot on my platter, so I don’t pay such close attention to them.

I admire their blue collar quality, although I still believe that the major sports leagues have jacked up prices so much that it’s often rough for a “blue collar” family to afford going a whole lot of games.

And, of course, anything that’s so popular is to irresistible for me NOT to make fun of.

And I still think the Cubs will never win a World Series in my lifetime. Or my grandchildren’s. Or my great grandchildren’s...

Write it on a napkin. Call me “The New Johnny Nostradamus.”


Daily Limerick 10/7/2001:

Today is a birthday for Robin.

She sets many men’s hearts to throbbin’.

They long for a chance

to take off their pants

and have her sweet head go a-bobbin’.



I saw a movie commercial the other day. For a big, Hollywood production, of course. I don’t recall what movie it was but... Well, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not all so different from a whole slew of other current Hollywood movies.

But, following the “proven” Hollywood trend of using already proven songs to hype current songs (bye bye to the idea of generating original songs to accompany movies), this particular movie was hyped with the aid of Smashmouth’s “Walking on the Sun.”

I maintain, after hearing “All Star” everywhere from commercials and TV shows to the goddamned Shamu show at Sea World (and, I wouldn’t doubt, it’s a choice in cell phone ringer tunes right now)...

I think Smashmouth has lost the right to be taken seriously ever again.

Hey, I know this is America and a capitalist country and all that. It’s every individual (and band’s) decision just how they want to make money off their work but...

When you go so far, you just go away.

Later, Smashmouth.



This letter makes “Sports/The Cubs,” I believe, the most popular of all S&Y topics ever:

>Hmm, I guess I don't understand sports either, 'cause I tried to get through

>more than one long-winded paragraph of either reply, and couldn't muster the



>A Celtics fan back in the day

Perhaps I should add a sports section. “Sportin’ and Porkin’”?


Daily Limerick 10/8/2001:

Bin Laden: Your beard looks like thistle

your cock is the size of a whistle.

But break out the lube

you dumb, smelly boob

while up your ass goes a cruise missile.



Patriotism through punnery:

Yo, Taliban? Havin’ fun over there, gettin’ bombed? I thought you guys didn’t like to lick’her? Despite the fact that you’re all minute men. I suppose soon many of you will be havin’ a bloody Mary, I suppose, or at least a bloody hair, as you guys kinda have trouble with the chicks, it seems.

Hey, bin Laden! Your hair’s a little messy there, pal. Did you just get up, or are you suffering from war-head? Well, time to bite the bullet, I guess.

Hey, are you impersonating the Flintstones over there? Seems like Rubble has been in the neighborhood. Oh, and your military bases now seem to be an homage to Pebbles. We helped you out, I know, we started the whole impression with the BAM-BAM!

I hear you guys were pretty tense over there earlier, huh? You were feelin’ a bit like you were gonna explode? Watch it, or you just might come apart at the seams. You may just lose your head. Maybe you need some higher taxes. The price of this regime is costing an arm and a leg, isn’t it?

Nice cities you got there! Smokin’! Somebody’s paintin’ the towns red, that’s for sure! I thought you were all anti-gay and stuff, but your towns sure look flamin’ today!

Try the veal! It’s da bomb! (Oops--already used that one! I guess that’s a sign!)

I could go on and on, but I won’t. (Though, feel free to pitch in, readers.)

Anyway, catch you later (if you ain’t all dead) Taliban! Have a blast!



In response to my comments on popular jingle writers... Er, popular rock band Smashmouth:

>Smashmouth lost their credibility long before that. :) But it's admirable of

>you to think otherwise.

I was giving them the benefit of the doubt. Or the benefit of anything beyond a reasonable doubt.

Well, I was being especially nice to them.


Daily Limerick 10/9/2001:

A band leader, name of Barone

conducting one day, got a bone.

Soon hard as a rock

he whipped out his cock

and played a tune on xylophone.



I was at this one show and I do “improv” limericks there and hence today’s entry.

Page two.

(Did I just do a literary impression of Paul Harvey?)

Anyhow, perhaps this should be renamed “General Slappin’ Yappin’.” After all, they took my idea.

I wrote in this space not too long ago that we should be dropping books and audio tapes and such to the Afghani people.

What, I ask you, pray tell, is one of the things the military is doing now?

No need to think me. No need to call me “Nostrildamus Limerickus” (the scientific name for my species of mutated, German-blooded leprechauns).

Again, Behold the Power of Limerick.

(Goes great with cheese!)


Daily Limerick 10/10/2001:

There once was a fellow named Sutter

who covered his Johnson in butter.

Rubbed cock on the floor

and shot out the door

when John Thomas started to sputter.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/10/2001:

Do you recall how, the other day, I was blathering about how real life is now becoming fiction and parody?

I think I just walked into a Salvador Dali painting.

Dateline is on in the other room. Here’s what they did:

A story interweaving/comparing-contrasting the lives of three terrorists and three WTC victims.

Turns out, they don’t have lot in common. They don’t necessarily synch up together well, but somebody got this idea, perhaps just after blowin’ a big fattie in some closet in the Dateline studios, and, damnit, they insisted it simply must be done.

It’s kinda like an extra complicated, 3-D metaphor gone terribly, horribly wrong.

The reporter/reader guy said that the events of Sept. 11 “Changed History.”

But can’t it be argued that we’re all changing history? Every minute, we’re adding something to it and thus...

I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of all this regal horn music set tenderly to coincide with a flag blowing in the wind.

Oh, I’m patriotic and all that. I’m concerned. But, have you noticed how every other newspaper lead these days starts with some sort of reference to Sept. 11? “In these troubled times...,” “It’s a fabulous time for Rapper E-Z Cheddar to enter the spotlight. His introspective music is just what listeners need in these times of despair...”

Let’s move on a little. I mean, baby steps are okay. And we need to remember and keep an eye on how to prevent this in the future, whether that be through war or education or foreign policy or whatever.

Move along people. Get mobile. Especially if you’re nubile.


Daily Limerick 10/11/2001:

The boneheads of terror, Al-Qaida

think of them we should be afraid-a.

But they stroke their staves

in underground caves

buried like some frighten’d potat’as.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/11/2001:

Okay, everybody listen up:

If you want to help out the victims and/or the firemen involved in the WTC disasters, it isn’t hard to find the charity. If you want to give, give.

I’m reiterating the above statement, despite the fact that it should be common knowledge.

Why am I reiterating because I read about the Back Street Boys teaming up with N’Sync and donating proceeds to the cause(s).

We must put a stop to these entertainment-related terrorist acts.

Donate the price of a ticket, if you really feel the urge. But don’t go. Don’t encourage them.

Please. For the love of God.


Daily Limerick 10/12/2001:

A bar-hoppin’ chickie named Gabby

with herself would often get grabby.

’Specially ridin’ home

she’d cause mouths to foam

(made the night of many a cabbie).


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/12/2001:

So the knuckleheads who put together the Emmy’s have “offered” to do the show at a military base (in California).

There are a couple things Hollywood is overlooking here.

Number one, the point of doing a show FOR THE TROOPS is putting together a bang-up, top-notch, no holds barred entertainment extravaganza. Sorry, but a massive celebration of big headed celebrities congratulating themselves and masturbating their egos all over the floor does NOT fit the bill.

Secondly, and here’s where the part of patriotism really comes in, this type of deal requires putting yourself, as an entertainer, into some degree, however small, of danger. The idea is, you’re briefly another “soldier,” although you’re armed with the best damn performance you can give instead of a rifle.

In other words, this should be done ON THE FRONT LINE IN AFGHANISTAN, not in some California military base.

I’m guessing this is the same logic used to put together blockbuster plot lines.

Oh, and although I didn’t want to drag this topic out, I also read today that the U.S. military is enlisting Hollywood scriptwriters to dream up possible terrorist scenarios.

Uh, hello? Somebody, over there in the military? This is the bunch whose plausible plotlines include copy editors with secretaries and men with scissors for hands.

We could be in deeper trouble than I’d previously thought.

I never wanted to say but...

What’s this world coming to? These damn kids today...


Daily Limerick 10/13/2001:

Hey there, Mr. Shithead bin Laden

you goat-faced ol’ cock who smells rotten

get laid all you can

pathetic woos-man

for you’ll soon be served up au gratin.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/13/2001:

So, I read today about one of the networks working on a show about two people who meet and go through all that sappy jazz after being widowed in the WTC disaster.

This is another installment of, STUFF THAT’S SO DAMN STUPID, YOU CAN’T EVEN MAKE FUN OF IT! That’s right, stuff that you can’t add anything to, without actually detracting from it’s humor, because it’s so fuckin’ dumb-ass, adding further dumb-assity can only take it in the other direction.

Speaking of Hollywood as the GRAND ASS OF THE UNIVERSE shitting crap all over, I happened to catch a little of a new show called “Reba.” (And it’s not only “Reba.” Take a look at the new sitcoms at some point each new season...)

I was once under the impression that TV folks run shows by focus groups. Or they at least show them to somebody with an IQ greater than that of a parsnip.

I could walk out and round up ten people now, just random folks on the street, invite them all in to see a video of said episode of “Reba,” and somebody will take a Zippo to that tape by the end of the night.

“Reba” ain’t natural. It’s so bad, it’s sinister.



Daily Limerick 10/14/2001:

A hot figure skater named Wexel

got horny skating with Al Drexel.

Went into a spin

he threw his cock in

and did the world’s first triple X-el.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/14/2001:

Further evidence of the lack of intelligence in the current protest movements:

German anti-war protesters were marching while carrying pro-Communist messages.


As we all know, communist nations--such as Cuba and Soviet Russia and those shiny, happy Red Chinese--are some of the kindest around. They’ve been oh so kind to citizens, and oh so vigilant on human rights, and their goal of equality for all has be oh so successful.

Yo! Read a newspaper once in a while. Do maybe one instead of 10 three-foot bongs before forming an opinion.


Daily Limerick 10/15/2001:

We’ve got a nice gift for Osama

and slapped a red bow on a bomb-a.

Enjoy it, goat face

and lighten your pace

of banging the ass of that llama.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/15/2001:

This is a real wacky story. Frightening in ways removed from the obvious.

A while back, the nation of Romania (is it a nation, or what?) was planning to build a Dracula-based theme park.

Now, plans are probably being scrapped because Universal Studios claims the rights to “Dracula.”

I think it’s time we enact a legal precedent called, “The Fucked In the Head Clause.”

“Plaintiff pleads that the studio owns the rights to Dracula,” the judge would say.

And the defense attorney would answer, “Your honor. The studio is obviously violating the Fucked in the Head Clause. This action is undoubtedly Fucked in the Head.”

“Yes, I think it’s obvious to any man, woman, child or hedgehog that said legislation is Fucked in the Head. Disbar those lawyers and fine the studio millions of dollars. Case dismissed!”

I recall a recent episode of... Oh, I don’t know, some VH-1 crap on celluloid. Oh, perhaps it was the Food Network. Anyway, they were showing all of the expensive and expansive catering set-ups available for touring bands.

Answer a couple questions to yourself: Who pays for this? Why has the price of concert tickets went from around $12 a pop when I was in high school to...

Let’s hope that one of the side-effects of the Sept. 11 bombings is that the whole cult of celebrity takes a hit.

Imagine there’s no E!... It isn’t hard to do...

A man can dream, can’t he?



In response to my comments about protesters without a clue bongin’ it up:

>It's sad how quickly the world has gone to pot.

Yes. It really bowls me over.


Daily Limerick 10/16/2001:

Instead of declaring “jihad”

a hatred in the name of God (?)

happiness is simple

look out for the dimple

of a ready, willing hot broad!


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/16/2001:

It seems that there was an anti-hate demonstration, surrounding the murder of Matthew Shepard--and an anti-war demonstration broke out.

If you’ll recall, Matthew Shepard was killed by inhuman homophobes in... I think Wyoming?

Do these people know that the Taliban buries gays in holes and then drops a stone wall on them?

This demonstration/protest switching is becoming quite the trend.

Is this what freedom of congregation has come to? Freelance demonstrators?



In response to my comments about Universal Studios fighting Romania for the rights to Dracula:

>Hey, John. I saw that article a few days ago (about Dracula). Actually, what

>Universal owns the rights to is the movie-image version of Dracula only. But

>what the people of Transylvania want to do is use those Bela Lugosi images

>rather than something they make themselves. I think the Fucked in the Head

>Clause has been overruled by the Lazy Ass Amendment.

Whoops. But still...

Well, in the tradition of e-mail and the Internet, I pride myself on being un-researched. Of course, you get the research that you pay for. Hell, you get more than that, considering you don’t pay anything.

Still, it’s safe to assume that Universal Studios sucks major ass. Dispute that!


Daily Limerick 10/17/2001:

There once was a girl from the South

men loved her, there wasn’t a doubt(h).

She wasn’t too pretty

or even that witty

but she let them cum in her mouth.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/17/2001:

The Center for Science in the Public Interest (CSPI) has raised the wide-eyed theory that Coca-Cola, in its sponsorship of Harry Potter-esque stuff on the heels of the upcoming movie, is in fact sponsoring HP for REASONS OF PROFIT and NOT to promote reading among children.

Talk about investigative reporting.

Thank you, CSPI! I never would have suspected in a million years.


Daily Limerick 10/18/2001:

At a suburban roller rink

a youngster went cruisin’ for pink.

Crashed into a wall

and near lost a ball

’cause he was not soft in the dink.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/18/2001:

And now it’s time for an episode of, “HARROWING REVELATIONS”:

That nutty anthrax deal is causing all sorts of discomfort these days. And did you happen to notice just who our first line of defense is against this frightful menace?

The United States Postal Service.

I’m now amazed that the anthrax found its way to Ted Koppel, instead of to one of his neighbors in his apartment complex or something (considering postal workers have such a rough time reading addresses). If he lives in an apartment complex.

God help us. Every last one of us.

Especially Tiny Tim.

This has been another installment of HARROWING REVELATIONS. Tune in next time when... Well, you read more HARROWING REVELATIONS.

(In case you haven’t noticed, I’m still desperately looking for some delightful recurring feature, with an equally delightful slogan...)



In reference to yesterday’s babblings about the Center for Science in the Public Interest accusing Coca-Cola of shameless marketing:

>What the heck does literacy have to do with Science in the Public Interest

>to begin with? You sure it's not the CSPI, Clearly Stupid People



You can rearrange the letters to spell PICS.

Which doesn’t shed any light on the matter. Or facilitate amusement in any fashion.

But that’s my reply.


Daily Limerick 10/19/2001:

There once was a fellow named Sprocket

whose hand often stayed in his pocket.

The dames weren’t impressed

’Specially when he messed

his pants from playing with his rocket.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/19/2001:

You may recall some of my recent limericks about bin Laden, the Taliban and other such themes. So here’s a bizarre tale for you.

I read at the Green Mill Uptown Poetry Slam here in Chicago last Sunday. Before the actual slam part started, I was asked to read some limericks, and I read one about bin Laden and a cruise missile set to go up his butt.

I received a note from someone soon following my limericks. It was signed anonymous. And it read:


If you think that my kneecaps are shakin’

from your crude limericks, you’re mistaken.

If it’s the ass of Bin Laden

after which you are ploddin’

come and ram your banana-like snake in.

Now, I don’t know what to make of this. Was this from an anti-war kinda person? Was it from a Taliban supporter (I didn’t see anybody Taliban-lookin’ in the crowd--but I’m sure I could get in trouble for stereotyping terrorists). Was this a way of hitting on me or something?

I’m puzzled. And it’s not exactly well-metered.

Oh well.


Daily Limerick 10/20/2001:

An expert in nuclear fission

used it for a dangerous vision.

He blew off his balls

(and two bathroom stalls)

through his bold trials of circum-fission.


Daily Limerick 10/21/2001:

There once was a small dinosaur

who was quite a horny young whore.

She met a T-Rex

and soon they had sex

which really made that dino-sore.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/20-10/21/2001:

Ahhh. For once, I do not know what to write.

Usually I have some concern, often a petty one, to blather on about for a bit. Some silly tidbit. Some nutty little facet of lust to pontificate upon.

I ain’t got nuttin’ now. Zip. Zilch. Goose egg. Nil. Zero.

Exciting. I know.

Hey, yesterday was my (sorta) birthday. Well, I was born on the 19th in another month.

This hasn’t garnered me lots of presents and strippers and a marching band and dancing girls. Oh. I guess the strippers would qualify as dancing girls. But I’d also want the Rockette-style dancing girls.

In fact, just for a day, I’d like to have a marching band and Rockettes follow me around.

Now that’s a slimy thought. Or it’s turned into one.


Daily Limerick 10/22/2001:

There was a young girlie, quite pretty

whose man lived in another city.

Making photocopies

she’s got hot and sloppy--

Xeroxing him shots of her kitty.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/22/2001:

So now, surprise surprise, we have a Muslim comedienne out there fishin’ for guffaws, all the while enjoying a boom in success since... Well, you know. And the ensuing extra dose of political correctness toward Muslims. Which, by the way, is not what I’m complaining about.

I could easily look up this woman’s name. Saw it in today’s paper. But I won’t play a hand in the evil forces behind this.

Hasn’t her agent and/or friends and/or colleagues and/or members of the general public filled her in on that bit of two-word advice that would be oh-so-helpful with the direction in which she’s headed now:

Yakov Smirnov.

Now, who out there among us was clamoring for this woman? Who among us proclaimed, “What we need is another hack, one-liner, cornball comic with the ethnic gimmick of the moment”?

Oh, some PR chowderhead has undoubtedly recently written about how this is “benefiting the overall perception of Muslims.”

But hey. Any ethnic group LACKING an annoying, cliché cut-up profiting off his/her diversity angle gains a lot of respect from me.

And there ain’t too many left.



CAUTION: The following letter contains a word that is highly offensive to some people. But I must say it IS used to describe someone who, well, probably deserves it, if anybody does:

>I am equally confused. If he said "ram your dick," fine. But "ram your

>banana-like snake in"? What, he's looking at the shape? Okay.


>It's Pammy Sue doing it. Mark my words. That jellyfish loving cunt.

Oh. He was referring to the limerick I received from “The Taliban” recently.


Well, here’s another letter:

>That slappin' and yappin' is proof you can pull something out of nothing --

>and make nothing of it. And that's something!

This is the kind of thanks I get. But I guess I’ll take what I can get. Compliments are like sex that way. Sort of, anyway. Oh, hell, I’m tiptoeing through the Tulips of Trouble again, so I’ll just say “Fare thee well!” for this issue.


Daily Limerick 10/23/2001:

There once was a fellow named Les

who, when he would suffer from stress

would turn things around

goin’ out on the town

wearing quite a flow’ry sundress.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/23/2001:

Since nobody took the bait when S&Y asked, I think I’ll expound on the “Chicken v. Egg” controversy. One time, in high school, instead of a pro/con pairing, we wrote up a chicken/egg duel. I took the “Chicken” angle.

You see, there was a dinosaur known as a chickenosaurus. When an asteroid fell to earth destroying the dinosaurs, some surviving baby chickenosauri survived but never grew any larger.


There was more to it. But I’ll wait for your arguments.


Daily Limerick 10/24/2001:

A babe catching sun by the ocean

asked a strange man to help her with lotion.

As he straddled her back

something tickled her crack

and he rubbed with a strange rhythmic motion.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/24/2001:

Today’s Chicago Sun-Times carried an insert from the Better Business Bureau. Which was helpful. If you’re an idiot.

It also helped me understand why Pure Evil can run rampant in businesses like the one with which I’m currently (but hopefully not for long) employed.

The BBB must have spent big bucks for this. Which, of course, is more important than actually going after bosses such as the Variation on a Theme by bin Laden who is my boss.

This informative pull-out featured such articles as “The Top Ten Ploys Used by Fraudulent Telemarketers.” Hey, if you’re dealing with telemarketers longer than the 3 seconds it takes to insult them and hang up on them, you’re beyond hope and we really shouldn’t spend a quarter penny of resources on your ilk.

Also ever helpful was the article, “Most Work-At-Home Deals are Phony.”

All as society continues to by overtaken by the Lowest Common Denominator...



Staff Letter Writer Mike checks in with:

>Don't worry -- the 15 minutes for that lady will go by in a flash. And

>speaking of Yakov Smirnoff, I still laugh when I read the thing about him in

>Mad (when it was lampooning a bunch of stand-ups). Let's see if I've got it



>Ah yes, here we go. From Mad About the '80s, reprinted definitely without



(We cut Mike’s copyright infringements, although I’m not sure who the hell would ever notice them...)


>All I can say is, if Smirnoff had had Mad's staff writing his jokes, he'd

>still be around today.

Yakov definitely makes me want to imbibe some Smirnoff. And then, perhaps Yak-off.

And then Mike checks in again, pertaining to yesterday’s S&Y about my awaiting your essays on “What Came First: The Chicken or the Egg?” with:

>Keep waiting.

Ahh. So the really deep stuff you won’t touch, huh?


Daily Limerick 10/25/2001:

Fucking after smoking some grass

a man took his girl in the ass.

His big ol’ surprise

bruised his groin and thighs

for he didn’t know she had gas.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/25/2001:

And now it’s time for another installment of...


This was one of the many lackluster features we here at the staff of Slappin’ and Yappin’ tried to institute, but now I can’t remember the title. So let’s go with...

POSITIVE STUFF! Wherein we present signs of optimism instead of the usual, cranky complaining!

Britney Spears’ book--that’s right, cats and kittens, it may be news that slipped under your radar, like Saddam Hussein’s romance novel and later musical, but Little Miss Do-It-Yourself Teen Hits actually “wrote” a book--was actually received poorly. (Meaning, it didn’t make the insane millions worthy of the couple minutes’ efforts by layers upon layers of music industry bureaucrats.)

But wait! There’s MORE!

Because of the lack-of-success in Britney’s “literary” endeavor, Ballantine has nixed the book deal of N’Sync do-it-yourself celebrity, Justin Timberlake.

Could it be... Dare I say...

There is a bottom limit to the perpetually plummeting Lowest Common Denominator?



You-Know-Who checks in with some comments on my Better Business Bureau comments of yesterday:

>The Better Business Bureau is a joke*, John. During my job searching, I once

>got called to attend a recruitment meeting for a job opportunity, and the

>job opportunity turned out to be one of those multi-level marketing scams --

>you know, pyramid scam crap. I sent in a complaint to the Better Business

>Bureau about how this company, Trek Alliance, lifted my name from

>monster.com simply to have me waste a night in a living info-mercial, and

>the BBB sent a reply informing me that they couldn't help, but they sent a

>copy of my complaints to the company DIRECTLY so they could get in touch

>with me. Not only that, they misspelled the fraudulent company's name.


>*I thought jokes were supposed to be funny.



Thank you for sharing, and thanks for coming out to our little support group, Mike.


Daily Limerick 10/26/2001:

A top-notch young groupie named Greeley

had a rock star with every meal-y.

This brought the broad bliss

so when she met Kiss

she got awfully touchy-Freehley.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/26/2001:

Here’s but another example of your government taking action that’s, well, just as good as inaction:

Congress passed a bill to increase the penalties for terrorism.

Now, you can apply this same logic to hate crime laws or what-have-you:

People willing to die sending a plane into a skyscraper will just give up if they hear that a few more years of jail time are tacked onto a terrorism conviction, right? People sending disease spores through the mail are obviously, by their very nature, paranoid about breaking the law, huh?

Oh, I know they pretty much HAVE to write laws like this. In fact, it seems most every crime except prohibition-of-drugs-related stuff carries a sentence that’s too light (child molesters are out in five years while gettin’ caught with an ounce of blow could keep you in most of your life).

I guess somebody has to take a bold, controversial stance and denounce terrorism.


Daily Limerick 10/27/2001:

One day a horned-up office stoner

was busy, a-changin’ the toner.

When the office flirt

came by in a skirt--

he jammed the machine with his boner.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/27/2001:

South Carolina University... Or is it the University of South Carolina?

Well, whatever it is, their mascot is a cock.

Opened an eye there, didn’t I?

No, you silly, filthy reader, I’m talking about a ROOSTER. (Actually, some genius dressed as a rooster.) Appropriately named Cocky. I don’t know what the hell the team’s name is.

Anyway, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals isn’t happy with Cocky. I guess that since Cocky is a cheerleader for a team in a game in which violence occurs, that will somehow predispose children to start cockfighting rings in their neighborhoods, instead of the ol’ standby lemonade stands.

I’m just glad some group out there is expending that rare time and energy on the things that are really important today.



>I think we should automatically throw people in jail who respond to an

>e-mail and don't add anything new.

I’m not sure whether you’re blaming me for something here or what. Let me go check yesterday’s edition...

...(Kinda cool, huh? You can pause a bit and it’s kinda like real time or something)...

...Hey! Perhaps YOU should be thrown in jail!


Daily Limerick 10/28/2001:

You can be an ass or a jag

and still fight ’neath the U.S. flag.

Young folks are so wary

of the military

why still can’t you fight as a fag?


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/28/2001:

The other day, while watching something slightly Godawful on television, I thought, “Hmm. Since terrorists generally hail from lands far away from the U.S., I wonder if they get their ideas of what America is like through television?”

Perhaps they catch shows like “Blind Date.” Perhaps they see Hollywood awards ceremonies. Perhaps they see, oh... What the hell is that show where they ask people stuff like “Who was the first president of the U.S.?” and “What continent is France on,” and the people don’t know the answers. Perhaps they catch shows like “Yes, Dear,” and think we all have wacky neighbors, completely incapable of saying anything remotely humorous, despite the fact that they try, and try, and try...

That would explain a lot.



>If I'm thrown in jail, wouldn't I be "barred" from replying? (ugh)

I wouldn’t exactly forbid you from replying, but it’d be a hard-cell.


Daily Limerick 10/29/2001:

There once was a fellow named Sam

who blew of his Willie--Kablam!

Since ’twas re-created

when he’s masturbated

is properly “Slammin’ the Spam.”


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/29/2001:

Yesterday I got up and, as is my usual protocol, I started up the coffee pot, poured a cup, then wandered just outside my front door, sipped a little coffee and puffed my morning cigar.

I had just awakened, mind you, and it takes me a while to get going in the morning. Also, I wear contacts and/or glasses and I was using neither at the time. I looked to my left, where I can see through the alley, between a couple houses/apartments, and see one of the main drags.

It was then, blurry-eyed, that I spied a large, red, fuzzy-appearing, humanoid creature. I noticed it was waving.

It was Elmo. You know, the celebrity muppet.

I told my wife. As can be expected, she told me I was nuts. I put on my glasses. Went outside again.

It was most certainly, beyond a reasonable doubt, Elmo.

Which prompted me to remember the time when the television was on in the other room and I overheard a commercial for a children’s video, “Elmo’s Leather Adventure.”

Okay, actually it turned out to be “Elmo’s LETTER Adventure,” but still, it got me to thinkin’...

Children are raised tickling a little fuzzy red character. Sometimes, they’re greeted by a giant, decidedly un-cute version of the fellow.

There are gonna be some kids with some truly whacked-out fetishes in a decade or so.



>As long as I can have a pack of cards in jail, so I can play Solitairey.

(I hope you’re following this frightening exercise in punnery. Check back issues, if not:)

These are getting really bad. I’m just warden you.

(Me and our Staff Letter Writer go way back with this kind of thing. Once u-pun a time...)


Daily Limerick 10/30/2001:

A taste connoisseur out of Shanghai

searched the entire world, low and high.

For his fav’rite treat

not too tart nor sweet

a snack of the finest hair pie.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/30/2001:

There are occasional interstices whereby the world of cartoons touches base with the world of reality.

(Is “interstices” a word? It makes me feel intelligent to use it, in any event.)

For instance, a banana peel, when properly thrown/placed on the ground, is truly slippery, in a cartoonishly ridiculous way. Yes, I just had to try that one out years ago but, believe me, the banana peel’s reputation is a deserved one.

The other night, I found out that pumpkin guts works in much the same way. Chalk it up to near-Halloween hijinx.

Just realize that I am in no way condoning this sort of wackiness. I am in no way asking you to tell me about your little stunts and offer to send me photos and/or videos. Likewise, I am in no way asking you to e-mail me about sending pornographic images either.

Got that?


Daily Limerick 10/31/2001:

A girl at a Halloween bash

dressed as a volcano, did dash

’round the room all night

because, to her fright

the men all craved a piece of ash.


SLAPPIN’ AND YAPPIN’ 10/31/2001:

Since my first name is John, does that qualify me for pope? Or is there more to it?



Continuing on our prison punnery:

>Oh, please. This is greasy kid's cuffs.

I’m just giving you a HARD TIME.


Visit SLOOP CENTRAL: http://home.earthlink.net/~sloop49


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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