Daily Limerick
Archives: February 2002

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


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There was an ol' spinster and yenta

who, one day, fin'ly scored a gent-a.

Her mood much improved

for she was behooved

by access to his "Horn o' Plenta."



Am I having auditory hallucinations, or did I hear a Sam Adams commercial this morning boasting of its tie-in to "Project Greenlight" and trumpeting the fact that you can win cash or something via Sam Adams, with a slogan: "Don't stop drinking." Perhaps it was "Don't stop drinking them." Am I going crazy? Has anybody else noticed this.

The irony here is, of course, that Ben Affleck pulled one of the older publicity stunts in the book. The ol' rehab trick. I think "Pearl Harbor" was a direct influence on this turn of events.

Somebody's asleep at the creative wheel at whatever advertising firm churned this shill out.



Groundhog looks for shadow today

(or that's what the legend does say)

to see if spring's comin'--

I think he's out bummin'

awaiting the spring groundhog lay.



Well, it's Groundhog Day and the only reference I've seen to it ALL DAY was in the newspaper, and even there it was only in one spot--in ONE comic strip in the funnies dept. People actually have goddamned VALENTINE'S DAY lights up--Valentine's Day lights, for Chrissake, but that's an entire other topic all its own--but we've just passed this one by. There's so much more that can be done with Groundhog Day. Groundhog gifts, digging for nuts (the children'll love that), watching Caddyshack...

Today also happens to be the birthday of 1) Farrah Fawcett and 2) Morgan Fairchild, two women I've... er... let's say, "engaged in self love to the posters of, at a very young age."

Ahh, to be young, obsessed about the naked bodies of the so-called "fair sex" and still  almost a decade away from being able to see a live, naked lady! A time of wonder, a time of forced innocence, a time of chapping the hell out of your young Willie with all the hand-jive action...

Ahem. But they're BOTH BORN ON THE SAME DAY! There must be some mystic property in that. (On a side note, the spell checker's suggestion for "Morgan" is "organ." Hee hee.)

It's also the birthday of Tommy Smothers. And, no, thank you for asking, but he does not fit into the same place in my... er, heart as the other two. But I did spend many hours listening to my dad's Smothers Brothers album as a child I just didn't... Okay, once I did over one of two nude shots in my dad's library at the time. It was a Time-Life book that "took you through the decades" and there was this topless hippie chick and...


Happy birthdays, one and all. And I open the forum up for readers' past Groundhog Day experiences.



There was a young stud from Bologna

who had a full sixteen-inch bone'a.

He banged a hot dame--

Clarice was her name

but when he was through, it was "Moan'a."



I am turned on by the '70s.

I realize that the above is a strange confession, but I must admit that it's true. You see, after yesterday's edition, going on about being at the Horny Age and looking at the photo of the topless hippie girl dancing, I realized that '70s-ish women turn me on. (That is, women in the style of the 1970s--not women IN their 70s.)

I now have a theory that it's because that's when I came into the ol' horniness thing--when women wore their hair short, platform shoes ruled the night, etc. etc.

Frightening, I realize, but true. And I spent the day thinking about it and it so far checks out in every way.

Do other people notice the same thing? I mean, not being turned on by the '70s, but being turned on by members of the opposite (or same) sex who have something stylistically in common with the age from which you came into horniness?

Why do I bother throwing topics out for you guys, anyway?



>My Groundhog's Day experience:


>The moment when I said "Ooooh, Bill Murray's going through the same day over

>and over. Ha!"


>Thank you.



I don't think you're quite on solid ground(hog).




There once was a man named McKay

who just loved the YMCA.

Thanks to an old song

dames questioned him long

really asking, "YRU-Gay?"



I'm sure you have heard of "Writer's Block"? And you've probably seen a prime example of it right here--when a writer can't think of anything to write. (I generally just slap something down through the keyboard anyway--but sometimes I'm just in a hurry. I know it's hard to tell the difference. And it's probably especially hard to tell the difference between when I DO have something to say and when I just blather on.)

But I'd like to introduce to you a newly named, writerly phenomenon I've noted as of late: "Writer's Bleech." You've probably seen "bleech" in MAD Magazine, if you're not some sort of evil communist and have read MAD, anyway.

Writer's Bleech is when a writer just writes a bunch of crap. And I think I've confused things even more--it's hard to tell when I've had writer's block, writer's bleech and/or was, in my own mind, "rolling" on a good topic.

Today, for instance, is probably an example of writer's bleech. Feel free to "guess S&Y's condition" in the future.



I wrote:

>>I don't think you're quite on solid ground(hog).


And then this joker wrote:

>Some of us are winters. Some are losers.

You're correct, beyond a shadow of a doubt.



There once was a horny old maid

who, lit'r'ally, never got laid.

So how'd she survive

with that there sex drive?

With a two-pronged marital aid!



Bill Zwecker, the shamelessly celebrity-ass-kissing "gossip" columnist of the Chicago Sun-Times, was describing the finding of cocaine in recently dead director Tedd Demme's system and the fact that he was best known for directing the movie "Blow." According to Zwecker, these two events were "ironic."

Now, I'm not one of those Grammar Geniuses who can claim to always use the word "ironic" correctly. (See your dictionary for more info.) But I don't think this fits the bill. Otherwise, isn't an "actress" who chooses to go the porn route and consequently dies of AIDS an "ironic" turn of events?

Keep on puckering, Bill...

Selma Blair, speaking of actresses, recently was quoted as admiring the "comic timing" of Christina Applegate.

Now, there are traits of Christina's that I, myself, admire but... C'mon.

Let's stop quoting Selma Blair from here on out.



The butt ugly girlfriend of Merle's

gave most every stomach the churls.

But he was full whack

for her ample rack

which earned daily necklace of pearls.



Carrie on "Sex and the City" gets $4.50 per word writing for Vogue.

I don't know if anybody in the history of writing has been paid $4.50 per word (perhaps somebody like John Grisham has a salary that works out to that, but it just doesn't happen otherwise).

(Also, by the way, my wife happens to watch "Sex and the City"--you don't have to believe that, but the truth is I overheard it.)

Really. Couldn't somebody on the writing staff have phoned Vogue? I know, "artistic license" and all that crap, but what artistic purpose does such an inflated wage serve?

That's it. Just a beef...

I recent study, coming on the heels of that National Advertising Holiday, the Super Bowl (I think there's a football game involved, as well), finds that "entertaining" ads don't necessarily sell product.

We can only hope this also means that annoying ads don't necessarily sell product (and have a worse rate of success than the "entertaining" variety) but... I think that's too much to ask. I've personally had shopping-bag-clutching suburbanites ask me the directions to Old Navy soon after they started their butt-stupid ad blitz a few years ago.

But perhaps there is still hope.



>Christina Applegate going from Married with Children to starring in that

>horrible movie Just Visiting. Now that's ironic. :p

It's tragic, to me anyway, that she hasn't went on to porn. Although I did see a "nude" picture of her on the Internet once. Strange that the skin on her face wasn't quite the same color as the skin on the rest of her in that photo...



They turned Pentecostal, the Chungs

(for they loved men play'in with their bungs--

during cunnilingus

they'd yell, "use the fingas!"

and craved fellas talkin' in tongues.)



Kenneth Lay, Sheriff of Notingham at Enron, refused to show up at a congressional hearing yesterday because "he figured the environment would be prosecutorial."

Will that fly for me when I refuse to show up at traffic court? How about work? I mean, it's unpleasant and stress-inducing...

France is sending a philosopher to Afghanistan. I didn't make that up. He's supposed to analyze the problems of the country and come up with solutions.

Thanks, French...

NYC Mayor Michael Bloomberg wants to sell the naming rights of New York landmarks to corporations. What more can I say? Cringe on your own time...

Alicia Keys, in a Chicago Sun-Times interview today, states: "I feel it's time to show people how beautiful a woman is." Yes. We need to be shown. I mean, it's not like men have made assholes and po' boys out of themselves since the beginning of time for women or anything. Nope...

Once upon a time, PBS could claim that it was more or less immune to "sweeps" periods.

Not any more. They're doing a big story on Pornography. I guess the shock value there is that porn is a multi-billion-dollar industry.

Now, were this special looking into CHILD pornography or something, I might be alarmed. I might give enough of a shit to tune in. Probably not, I suppose, but it would be possible.

What especially got me was that the director of this puff piece, whom I saw on TV last night, mentioned the fact that the "community standard" issue that's applied to our Taliban-esque "obscenity" laws is difficult to interpret, considering the Internet transcends any one community.

Pornography is a multi-billion-dollar industry. That means that a whole lot of people are into porn. That consequently means that the new "community standard" pretty much accepts porn.

Now shut up and concentrate on Masterpiece Theatre.



A horny ol' queen, name of Floyd

found one day his mate seemed annoyed.

He made a big pass

his mate rubbed his ass

said, "Not tonight--I've a hemm'rhoid."



Okay, here's the reigning champion for "Idiot Media Mistake of the Year":

MSNBC accidentally added an extra "g" to the spelling of Republican consultant Niger Innis' name. We'll let you guess where that extra "g" was...

All the more reason to become a "Studier" for a living: University of Illinois at Chicago study finds that illegal immigrants make less money than legal ones.

Ah, the miracles of the 21st Century!



There once was a fellow named Kipper

spent life as a fishing boat skipper.

His sole friends, the fish

fulfilled ev'ry wish

(he'd often hang worms out his zipper).



"Project Greenlight." It's seen as such a humanitarian gesture for Mr. Affleck and Damen, the poster children for obscenely big actors and also homo-erotic friendships.

But if you've followed it at all, you see that the winner is actually being ripped into, in a way, as they show all his "un-professional" little maneuvers and the whole thing is looking a lot like any other "reality" show: intended to showcase knuckleheads so the viewers at home don't feel so bad about themselves.

And here's another thing: Rather than helping a couple "regular guys" along with the ridiculous levels of funding needed to enter Corporate Hollywood, why don't you do something about the pathetic system Hollywood has in place? Give a couple of guys fish, and they eat for a night. Teach them to fish...



There once was a man from Sioux Falls

who had trouble with nature's calls.

A doin' his chores

he'd fill up his draw'rs

tryin' to loose his overalls.



So VH-1 has this new show, "Driven," which chronicles the lives of rock stars before they were famous.

This differs from the first part of any "Behind the Music" episode... how, exactly?

I'm sure we all know former high school or college football star/student council gurus who now live a mediocre to poor life and constantly wallow in the old "Glory Days"? They join adult football leagues and get WAY too into it, they hit every damn reunion, they have bumper stickers from their alma mater all over their SUVs?

VH-1: Let the pathetic, recycling of Successes Gone By begin.



A fellow who liked his sex botch-less

(and natur'lly, readers, Ed Koch-less)

kept smooth his love life

for he and his wife

bought all of their underwear crotchless.



You'll notice that the above limerick uses a time-honored writing tradition. I call it, the "See it comin' a mile away" technique. Ah, you may think it's a cheap, hackey kinda trick, I'm sure, but I assure you, in the hands of a Master Limericist, it's pure genius...

They say that celebrity deaths come in threes. You know, that once a celebrity dies, within a short (unspecified?) amount of time, two more will die. I don't know if it has any credence but... Well, I've noticed that there's a similar parity in celebrity births. It seems that, on any celebrity birthday, there will be at least ANOTHER celebrity birthday of a celebrity who is "useful" to me in the same way as the first.

For instance, Thomas Edison's birthday is today. So, another raving genius (in my opinion) has a birthday today as well: Leslie Nielson.

Also, we have birthdays of Jennifer Aniston and Brandy. I'll let you figure out how I've found them "useful"...



It's popular, that show called "Buffy"

and mostly well-written, not puffy.

I s'ppose she's quite stellar,

Sarah Michelle Gellar,

but I watch and think 'bout her muffy.



I guess some anti-smoking group has taken out ads in the New York Times protesting some dumb movie or another because it features smoking. (Oddly enough, the original written story the movie destroys... er, portrays featured smoking and, miracle of miracles, the producers didn't change that.)

This group also believes that any movie containing smoking should get an automatic "R" rating.

I somehow didn't hear that we'd fixed all the poverty in the world and could now concentrate on, not only people harming themselves by their own free will, but people harming themselves by their own free will IN THE FANTASY WORLD.

(Insert your own slur for the non-intelligent here _________.)



A lady craving carnal joys

went off and bought many sex toys.

No more does she grouse

or leave her damn house

for she has no more need for boys.



There's now a book out called, "A Visitor's Guide to Celebrity Etiquette: How to Keep Hollywood a Fabulous Place for Celebrities."

Ahh! This is what we in the making-fun-of-things business call a Mother Lode of Fodder.

First of all, anything, and I do mean ANYTHING designed to make celebrities' lives easier is SUCH A BIG FUCKING WASTE OF TIME that the people behind it should be sent to a poor, rural village in Afghanistan to live for a year or so, so they can regain their sense of perspective and hopefully return to make a tangible contribution to society. Those poor, poor celebrities.

Secondly, how is Hollywood NOT a "Fabulous Place for Celebrities" on any minute of any day of any year? This is where the supreme losers wait out overnight to see these wahoos (no disrespect intended toward the new snack food which is actually quite good, if a bit of a rip-off of Bugles) enter on the red carpet. Hollywood gives celebrities a sense of importance--which is crucial to them as they don't really have any importance, overall.

And as far as anybody who would actually BUY this book, with serious intentions or reading it (unless they must in order to write a review on it, or possibly for fun-making purposes, or possibly just for the idiot shock value that such a thing exists)...

This is one of those cases where I think it is necessary to advocate suicide. Sometimes, I mean, an individual is truly, pathetically hopeless.



Ah! Somebody finally is playing along with one of our little games. I asked you to insert your word in describing knucklehead PC Nazis wanting movies that show cigarette smoking to be automatically considered Rated-R and...

>(Insert your own slur for the non-intelligent here _________.)




> I think that's self explanatory.

I'm just too tickled at the idea of getting a letter to comment further upon this.



A man thought his girl's Valentine

should make her eyes light up and shine.

Had no cash for candy

or flowers so dandy

so he gave her his Valen-Vine.



My father-in-law (or, more properly, step-father-in-law) was just in the hospital to get his appendix taken out. He's okay and all that, but I was tipped-off to a disturbing trend when I went to the hospital.

It cost $3 to park there.

Is anybody out there still under the illusion that hospitals are anything other than cold, calculating, profit-hungry corporations? I mean, I suppose this is all well and good, considering we're living in a capitalistic society, but it's especially disturbing to see the new, desperate means they're using to show this false sense of "good citizenship."

At this particular hospital (and it is not an isolated case), there were a lot of "No Smoking" signs. Inside the hospital may make a lot of sense but... outdoors?

So, it seems, this hospital is hoping to be seen as a "do-gooder" for assaulting Smoking Americans outdoors but has no qualms about YANKING ANOTHER THREE BUCKS out of your pockets (on top of the profits from their $8 Tylenol tablets and such) because you desire the privilege of seeing your ailing relative.

I must apologize to long-time readers (and long-time ignorers) of this... whatever the hell it is because I have touched on this topic before. But I can only come up for one explanation for a crackdown on outdoor smoking: Human beings need a minority to beat up on and, these politically correct times considered, smokers are the only one available.

I was happy to see plenty of people flaunting this Taliban-esque little rule. Even happier to see the accumulation of cigarette butts all over the place as the hospital refuses, of course, to supply ashtrays.

Aren't smokers some of your CUSTOMERS, ol' cold, calculating, profit-mad corporation known as a hospital? I know, I know, you're in the business of health, and your healthy propaganda is to be expected to some degree but...

Quite honestly, given two more-or-less equal hospitals equally close to me, I'd pick the one that doesn't make Mullah Mohammed Omar proud. Obviously, this primitive urge to beat up on SOME minority thus even takes some precedence over the almighty dollar.

And that's frightening.

Oh, and by the way: Happy VD!



That Enron chief sure had it made

'til true revelations were made.

Then his employees

got down on their knees

and got royally Kenneth Layed.



News comes out today that a group of consultants worked up a report on airport security in the mid-'90s and found that, surprise surprise, we were in desperate need of improvement. The recommendations of the report were, as you know, ignored because the airlines didn't want the increased lines and loss of profits and the FAA didn't want to fight the airlines.

So we just gave a multi-million (or is it billion?) dollar bailout to the airline industry, I guess on the theory that they were not to blame in the Sept. 11 tragedy, which gave a bigger blow to their profits and lines than instituting the measures ahead of time could have, because they simply "didn't know" such a thing could happen.

Why didn't we just let them go bankrupt? I mean, they don't give two shits about customer service to begin with (and they obviously care more about profits than the lives of their passengers even) and isn't America all about a brand new company rising up to put an old behemoth out of business with better service?

Ah, just call me old fashioned, I guess.



>I think you have a real case against hospitals when it comes to smoking

>outside -- you should seek aid from the Federal Marlboro of Investigation.



>I just Kent get enough.

Everybody's got their Vice, Roy. Wait a minute! You're not Roy!



A salty dog sailor, McGee

spent most of his time out at sea.

In port, met a dame

who found him quite lame

so he went to town on her knee.



So now it seems the International Skating Union is banning "undignified" poses is its events. I've been hearing over the past few weeks about how some organizations (this one is probably one of those organizations, although this is the first I heard of it) are having problems with the skimpy outfits associated with figure skating as well.

Well, I guess there goes about half your audience for these events--including myself. No crotch shots and skimpy outfits? There's no longer a point (do you think I guys actually care about the scores and such?). Especially considering that we're just figuring out that it's about as "real" as pro wrestling and "The Real World."

So the Olympics are not only a ridiculously out of control money-grubbing organization, but a stupid one at that.



>>Everybody's got their Vice, Roy. Wait a minute! You're not Roy!


>:) Don't Benson & Hedge your bets.

I'm not worried about it. You Winston, you lose some.



Wonder why the chick in King Kong

was okay with tagging along?

Well, open your eyes

look at that ape's size!

(He also did have a King Schlong.)



On the cover of today's Chicago Sun-Times, across the top, is emblazon a quote (and I may paraphrase a bit): "Don't Blame Britney--Biology, not Pop Culture, to Blame for the Way Girls Are, says MAJOR New Book." (Emphasis on Major, by the way, added by myself.)

So, how do we know that this new book is a MAJOR new book? Because the Sun-Times tells us so...

Considering the state of airport security, is it perhaps telling that the initials for the Los Angeles Airport are LAX?...

Don't you hate the fact that boneheads insist on ruining our favorite songs? First I had to deal with the fact that Limp Bizkit re-did Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" for the Sept. 11 charity concert. Then Pearl Jam re-does the Beatles' "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away" and this Rufus Wainwright character re-does another of my favorite Beatles' tunes, "Across the Universe." (By the way, I'm not sure of those last two song titles--that's what I assume they are from the refrains and such.)

Now, as musicians who are doing pretty well financially (I don't think Fred Durst has to work a shift at Best Buy to nurse his music career)--isn't your FULL-TIME job to be a musician? Don't you owe it to your fans, as a supposed "artist," to write A NEW FUCKING SONG based on the events in your world?...

Considering political correctness (which, it seems, just isn't going away, no matter what pundits and VH-1 says), the fact that improv exists (the art of just giving up on WRITING good comedy and instead doing what every idiot does at a party to try to be funny AND CHARGING GOOD MONEY FOR IT) and witnessing the state of "alternative" comics in the weekly, artsy newspapers, shouldn't we be noticing a movement of POST HUMOR in the arts?




There once was a guy, name of Keller

was the most perverted ol' feller.

Dwarves, blenders and goats

did float the guy's boat--

he found S&M quite vaniller.



Happy Presidents Day! Enjoy another one of those holidays that qualifies as a day off for only the most dedicated of folks--school kids and government workers!...

I've noted a "caste system" at work in Hollywood. The couple consisting of Britney Spears and that curly-haired dolt from the Backstreet Boys (or is it N'Sync?) are, at least for another month or two, A-list stars (funny how they'll have fast food jobs in common soon as well). They eerily parallel the former relationship of '80s Glorified Karaoke Teen Diva Tiffany and one of the chowderheads from New Kids on the Block.

But I just read today how Jessica Simpson, famous for being a Britney Wannabe, is getting hitched to some clod from 98 Degrees, a band famous for being a Backstreet Boys/N'Sync Wannabe.

None of this, of course, explains Courtney Cox and David Arquette one iota...

Could it be the Eighth Wonder of the World? The International Olympic Committee, a sleazy, money-grabbing entity in the same league as Disney and Enron, actually has a rule against utilizing corporate names on stadiums used for its events (much to the dismay of Delta, which committed Capitalistic Rape on a Salt Lake stadium that is in Olympic usage).

I guess it's not all that strange. I mean, Hitler was a vegetarian. "No problem with gassing Jews, but don't harm that poor chicken on my behalf!"

Come to think of it, that goes a long way toward explaining the activities of PETA...



>Regarding the Beatles covers,


>It's for the soundtrack to I Am Sam. Every artist did a Beatles cover

>because the moviemakers couldn't secure the rights to the original songs.

>Thank god.

I think you're right but... I don't know. I guess cases like this don't necessarily have a LESSER of two evils. There's just diversity among evils, perhaps.



Nicolaus Copernicus

was born today--and was no wuss.

Is astronomy

he is quite God-ly

(but let's hope he got frequent puss).



A warning to all of you who make extremely bad recreational choices: A man in Manila was killed for singing bad karaoke. Every storm cloud has a silver lining...

Britain accidentally invaded Spain. I can't enrich that fact, just tittering inside all day over it.



The bee in the bonnet of Oprah

despite bein' a play'r on the go-prah

is her "boyfriend" Stedman

enjoys giving head, man

and never mounts her on the Sofrah.



Today's installment of Slappin' and Yappin' could be headlined: S&Y Told You So (or, S&Y Warnings Come True)!

I'm proud of this because MAD Magazine has periodically recapped humorous features, too bizarre at the time to be taken seriously, that have eventually actually come true. So this puts me in... er, "good" company (for lack of a much, much better word)...

Do you recall how I was kind of waffling on the issue of "federalizing" airport screening authorities? How I cautioned everyone to picture the workers at their local post office before getting too gung-ho on the idea of federal employees fixing everything? Well, airport security went under federal scrutiny...what? About a week ago? And just yesterday an airport screener in Louisville, Kentucky FELL ASLEEP ON THE JOB.

Yes! Slappin' and Yappin' should be getting the dollar of all those knuckleheads getting ripped off by Miss Cleo!...

Now I'm sure you recall some of my rantings about anti-smoking Nazis.... er, anti-smoking zealots, considering they are quite a regular occurrence in S&Y. And you may or may not recall me admitting my bias, as a cigar smoker, but also cautioning that a movement willing to sue companies for an individual's decision to smoke--and considering that, since the first caveman brought the campfire into the cave, we've known that inhaling smoke is not the healthiest option--is a movement not content with its gains in that area, just waiting to leap at the chance to hold individuals unaccountable for anything and everything they do.

And yesterday, on the Fox News Channel, I hear about the beginnings of a movement to hold "junk food" manufacturers accountable for the obese and cholesterol-laden.

Mothers and fathers, don't take your kids to the beach if you don't want to be sued for second-hand skin cancer in a decade or two.

And don't say S&Y didn't warn you...

P.S. Does the rhyme scheme in today's DL earn me the title of "Ogden Nash of Limericks" yet?

P.P.S. No P.P.S.



A chick whose man readied to dump her

changed into a really tight jumper

for some exercisin'

his cock did re-sizin'

and right then and there he did hump her.



A yuppie chick, often alone

fin'ly got to ride a good bone.

But he left, mid-lust

for with every thrust

she kept talking on her cell phone!



That fellow, all blow-dried and tan-a

who sings of the Copa Cabana

o'er old broads has power--

they'd give him their Flow'r

(but me thinks he craves the Banana).



For lusty young Mortimer Raney

Southeast Asians drove him insane-y.

He spied one undressing

soon his pants were messy

across the front, with Paki-stain-y.



That fellow whom they call Popeye

spurs legends, some true and some lie.

The spinach he downs

is mostly 'tween rounds

of helpings of fresh Olive pie.



The fists of that boxer, Mike Tyson

can almost do slicin' and dicin'.

He makes Don King glad

but then it's too bad

that Mike has the brain of a Bison.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 2/21-2/26/2002:

I'm leaving town for Minneapolis, where I'll be for a long weekend (wife's business trip, I've got no job, expenses mostly paid--that type of thing) so I'm sending some limericks ahead of time.

I'm actually not leaving until Saturday but... Well, I'm having a hard time being funny. Alright, for you critics out there, I'm having an even HARDER time being funny than usual.

You see, we have to put our cat to sleep tomorrow.

I won't go into it. Suffice it to say that he's extremely weak and suffering somewhat and there's no hope of him living beyond a week or so anyway, so there's that fine line between letting nature take his course and in ending unnecessary suffering, since he's certainly not enjoying his time too much right now.

Whoo boy. So it's one of those things where I think, "You're a writer--you must have something to say about this," and yet I also think I don't want to dwell in it any more than I have to. Also, this is (allegedly) a humor column (although it has, at times, been more of an "anger" or "stupidity" column) and...

A part of me feels I should be able to joke about it. I was impressed hearing a big spiel Sam Kinison did right after his brother died, making jokes about his brother being hit on by Liberace in Heaven (homophobic, yes, but... well, that Sam Kinison, I suppose).

I suppose that some of you may find it silly to get worked up over the death of an animal. But he was my companion going back five years before I met my wife and... Well, that's another topic.

So I guess I'll just leave it at that for now. Cat's got my tongue.


LETTERS TO THE IDIOT 2/21-2/26/2002:

>Not exactly the Ogden Nash of limericks. But perhaps the Gomer Pyle of


Oh yeah? Well, then you're the Oliver (of Brady Bunch... er, "fame") of letter writers.



A hot little stripper named Shannon

who many locals tried a-bannin'

gave a friction dance

to mess up your pants--

it'd cause you to fire like a cannon.



Just got in from Minneapolis. Guess I misjudged a bit, considering that this edition is arriving in your e-mail box on the 28th (with the exception of those on Pacific time and further west).

But this edition is just to whet your appetite for the idiocy this little trip has spurred. New levels of knuckleheadism, heretofore unrealized heights of misguided ramblings.

In other words, this is another crappy edition. Or another even crappier edition than normal. Unless less is more. Which may be the case.

Good night.



The well-wishings have come in for my late cat Harley:

>Sorry about your cat. That's always tough. We've all been there. Don't know

>what else to say. Good luck, man.


>John I'll miss ol Harly(is that how spell his name)

>lots of memories

>Hope to see you soon

>STEPHAN "damn near killed him"

Why, you little... Wait. How am I supposed to make fun of those sending condolences over my dead cat?

I guess this is a VERY SPECIAL Letters to the Idiot.



A lounge singer named Luciano

sang each encore mano y mano

with one special dame

lured in by his fame

he'd later mount on the piano.



Man! I hate getting in after midnight right before having to do two shows on too little practice and then having a stack of mail and all that crap to go through when... Well, you'd planned on getting in much, much before midnight the day before and...

Well, a couple things. First off, Minnesota's weekly "alternative" newspaper comes out on the day it is DATED. And it's a good paper. Kinda like the Daily Limerick...

I've read that the Motion Picture Association of America, censor-happy entity that it is, shot down plans for the movie "40 Days" to have the words "Coming Soon?" in its title. I need not elaborate more to clue you in on the disturbing nature of the MPAA. But I suppose it couldn't happen to a "finer" movie. "40 Days" goes on the premise that it's difficult for a guy to go 40 days without sex. Other than perhaps the royalty in Saudi Arabia, I think every man alive today has went at least 40 days without sex at some point. Also, it's a cardinal rule of writing (I know I'm talking about Hollywood here, by the way) than the audience should be able to feel for the protagonist. He can even be a serial killer, but somehow you have to portray him or her in a way that leaves you feeling for and rooting for the protagonist.

Can any guy out there feel sorry for a many whining about going 40 days without sex?...

And more whacked-out, militant liberalism in weekly alternative newspapers: The Chicago Reader's review of a certain theater event dubbed it "tales of heterosexual courtship." Heterosexual courtship. Ahem. Where was the disclaimer that it was not about "paraplegic" courtship?


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 passed, twice! 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, or Theater of the Droll's, e-list for comedy, sketch and/or poetic performances (in Chicago, Los Angeles or elsewhere), let me know!


(c)1999-2002 John "Sloop" Biederman. All Rights Reserved.


Send your own Letter to the Idiot and/or e-mail Sloop! (And attach sexy pics, if you insist. Sigh.)


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