Daily Limerick
Archives: January 2002

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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Start 2002 with good cheer

and if your poor head still ain't clear.

Lift that mental fog

with Hair of the Dog

kick off its first evening with beer!



A "Stop -N- Shop" owner, quite quirky

met a patron whose breasts were perky.

He cut her some slack

price-wise, on her snack

(and secretly gave his Beef Jerking).



A man who went deaf came to grips

with the process of reading lips.

Around girls it failed--

his lip reading bailed

thanks to his thing for reading nips.



You are what you eat--stud or putz--

and there are no ifs, ands or buts.

A gay man I know

this credo does show

for he is, quite simply, plain nuts.



A girl got a hickey from Zeke

but at her bod, Doctor did peek.

While feeling the shame

and rep to her name

made sure and turned the other cheek.



A man who was jailed over dope

bent over to pick up his soap.

He soon felt a tweak

back by his rear cheek

and found himself taking in rope.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 12/28/2001-1/6/2002:

Okay, here's the deal on why you received 10 Daily Limericks at once:

I'm going on vacation. Perfect thing to do when you're unemployed. Going to New York and a few spots on the East Coast.

I know, last time I made a cross-country(ish) trip, I tailored e-mails to the areas I was guessing I'd be on the appropriate dates. No such luck this time.

Happy New Year. All that jazz.

I'll send you new, fresh idiocy on January 7, 2002.



A girl who was fond of tight sweaters

(and often wore her breasts unfettered)

would widen the eyes

of all of the guys

(there wasn't much they wouldn't "let her").



I just got back from a trip. We drove to New York, spent New Year's there, stopped into MAD Magazine, etc. Then up to Boston. Then to Portland, Maine. I'm sure you don't care, but I nonetheless feel I have to say SOMETHING about it. Saw Ground Zero and all that junk, but I don't want to take the space (and I don't think YOU want me to, either) to get into the trip in detail. So here's my brief travel guide to the states we traveled through (keep in mind that I spent very little time in most of these states, and didn't really see much of the states, physically):

INDIANA: The state's reputation as nothing but a bunch of farmland is mostly true. But, as opposed to 99.9 percent of the writers in Hollywood, I see nothing wrong with this. We need food. Also, Indiana's attempts at cities are so horrifying--Gary looks like Ground Zero from a distance, there's so damn much pollution flying up from its barely existent skyline--that they should probably level them and make 'em farmland, too.

OHIO: I'm at a loss for what to say about Ohio. It's... very Midwestern, I suppose. Nice people in the Big Boy off route 90. They've also adopted the oh-so-annoying East Coast idea of raping your pocketbook with tolls.

PENNSYLVANIA: Ah, Pennsylvania! I don't know WHY I say "Ah, Pennsylvania!" but I do. Nice and hilly. People are into their Christmas lights there.

NEW JERSEY: I was only in the near-New York section, so I don't know about the rest of New Jersey. A suburb of New York, is what it seems like. People there drive like assholes and freeway exits are confusing. Friendly diner customers, though.

NEW YORK: Really. Do I need to fill you in on New York, or can I just let you turn on any other sitcom? Upstate New York left me feeling like I was in the rural Illinois I grew up in, however. With the exception of Niagara Falls, which needs more barrel traffic.

CONNECTICUT: Didn't really get off the interstate much here. When I did, the town looked like Martha Stewart designed it. Which could be good or bad, depending on your point of view. I think you'd be killed for walking on a lawn there.

MASSACHUSETTS: Boston has been overtaken by yuppies. If they could go 15 minutes without answering their cell phones, they could perhaps try seceding from the nation and making the SUV mandatory for all residents. Historic Boston in perhaps the worst city to drive through in all of America. I know the streets were designed long before cars, but I imagine they spurred road rage even in horse-drawn wagons.

NEW HAMPSHIRE: Again, didn't leave the interstate much. When I did, there was a beautiful rest stop. Beautiful scenery, outside of the outhouse, though.

RHODE ISLAND: Providence seemed like a cool, small city, but it was very difficult to find a restroom there. Stopped at a gas stations that allegedly didn't have one. If you go through, urinate on somebody's lawn for me.

MAINE: I loved the sight in Portland of 80 percent of a bar's patrons smoking outdoors. Intelligent law--I mean, people go to bars for their health, right?

VERMONT: Quaint and a great place to start any sort of business that thrives on a "quaint" image. All the stores seem to be staffed by old ladies who aren't real friendly. Lot of hippies, too.

That's all you need to know in touring the East Coast.

By the way, I have a piece in the February, 2002 edition of MAD. Enjoy. Or something.



>... now I can't get jiz-olution out of my head.



Try "Jizz and Tonic." That ought to keep you mentally busy.

>              I'm reminded of the Ken Burns "Civil War"    program which >was on PBS about 10 years ago (and many times since).  If    you were just listening, >you would hear things like, "The Civil War is brought    to you by the Chubb Group of >Insurance Companies" at the beginning, and, at    the break, "The Civil War will be right >back."   And relating    your rants about corporate naming of sports facilities (with >which I    wholeheartedly agree) to this, maybe we should get corporate names for the    >various facets of the Afghan War.  The Staples Battle for Kandahar.     Amazon.Com >Humanitarian Airlift.  Kohl's Search for Muhammed Omar.     The BankOne Reward for >Osama.  Etc, Etc, Etc...

Will the future bring us a "Tweeter Statue of Liberty" or a "McDonald's Grand Canyon"? Shudder if you will.

>:) I'm moved in already. So actually, that shouldn't be a smiley face, but a

>sleeping face. Huh? Exactly!



Yet another nonsensical, essentially worthless letter brought to you by... DAILY LIMERICK!



A poor little feller named Mel

was trapped in a grade-school Nerd Hell.

With friends he was swarmed--

and homeroom transformed--

when he pioneered "Ho and Tell."



Happy Elvis' Birthday to all!

India and Pakistan are on the brink of war, for those of you who aren't paying much attention to the world around us. (Consequently, the U.S. government keeps telling us we'll broker "Peace in the Mid-East," providing a fine example for the rest of us to set realistic goals.) And I recently read that India was considering "hiding" the Taj Mahal with an extremely large, camouflage cloth.

Really. I'm not making that up. I guess fighter planes would fly over and figure, "Oh well. It's gone. It USED to be there..."

Don't know what else to add to that one.

Here's another thing that puzzles me. It was widely reported that the anti-Taliban Northern Alliance was working on a "Surrender" for Taliban Supreme Primate Muhammed Omar (I think he has another name but I forget it--and in any event, it's more appropriate to call him by some Latin name for his subspecies of ape).

I don't know why I even bother getting upset at the news media for reporting bullshit--after all, the media overwhelmingly refused to question the "gimme gimme gimme" impatient sound byte mentality that actually believed 2 plus 2 was five by calling the year 2000 the "millennium." But... These Taliban folks DON'T SURRENDER. They're such losers, they'll blow themselves up or fly themselves into buildings for a lost, idiot cause. OF COURSE it was a ploy!

Next thing you know, we'll corner bin Laden and he'll do the ol' "shoe's untied!" trick.

By the way, the terrible news that came in today puts another great leader of Western Civilization's date of death as the same as Galileo's. And this man was just as important as Mr. G: Dave Thomas, the founder of Wendy's. Grieve--and long live the triple cheeseburger!



A girl had a porno screen test

which had a man cum on her breast.

After, she felt bad

and certainly had

some stuff to get off of her chest.



So I think we've all heard about this knucklehead kid who flew a plane into that Florida building. One of his teachers is quoted as stating that "the picture that is being portrayed of him [the young nutball] is not the person we knew and loved."

PICTURE being portrayed of him? This literally would mean that somebody took brushes and painted a picture of him, and the teacher is complaining about the resulting work; metaphorically, it implies that people are forming an impression of this boy in the media.

The boy flew an airplane into a skyscraper. He left behind a suicide note supporting din Laden. I think he painted most of that picture himself, lady. (On a side note, of COURSE that's not the boy you knew and loved--who the hell would love such a moron)...

A national report finds that "private universities are unaffordable to the poor." What a shock! Good use of our tax dollars!...

There's a "controversy" over CNN ads calling Paula Zahn "a little bit sexy." If they were really seeking a legitimate complaint, maybe it should be over the fact that it called her a "little" sexy--she's a full-on babe!

But what's with this assumption that we respect newscasters for anything other than how they look? She may have loads of journalism skills and experience, blah blah blah, but that's not in her job description here. It's looking pretty and reading off a TelePrompTer. Hell, they oughta have all of these talking heads in bathing suits. Although that would certainly step up the degree of my status as News Nerd. (And, I must admit, the zipper noise the promo was a nice touch, not to mention, ironically enough, journalistically ethical, considering that, well, that sort of things occurs quite a bit with Paula Zahn watching)...



An alien, lacking self worth

space-traveled to cancel the dearth.

He scored many lays

during holidays--

felt better, thanks to piece on Earth.



The United State Olympic Committee is cracking down on those using its logo that are "unauthorized" (read: didn't pay a crap-load of money to the U.S.O.C.).

Seems everyone is catching the spirit of these games, which were formed to celebrate amateur (read: non-money-making) athletics.



A small-penised "top" gay named Dwight

found most sphincter muscles too light.

Spent most of his days

in a dating haze

forever seeking Mister Tight.



I saw an ad in the newspaper, help-wanted section, seeking at "Hate Crimes Coordinator."

Either some poor word choices or, despite the economy, the KKK is hiring.



A girl who did so crave a reamin'

made love to an actual demon.

The bang was top-notch

but tore up her crotch

(he had the most noxious, vile semen).



Today calls for an installment of GOOD NEWS:

The "Mr. Potato Head" comic strip, an obvious ploy further blurring the line between art and marketing, has been canceled! (At least in the Chicago Sun-Times.)

Although a good sign, it doesn't fully relieve us of the possible terrifying future debut of "The Adventures of Ronald McDonald" and "Verizon Wireless Man" on a comic page near you.



>You rhymed tight with tight! Genius! :)

In order to see what Dr. Verse is talking about, you need to reference yesterday's limerick. I did in fact screw up, and am pasting the corrected limerick below.

And I do need to remind you, I promise QUANTITY in limerick, not necessarily QUALITY:

A small-penised "top" gay named Dwight

found most sphincter muscles too light.

Spent most of his days

in a dating haze

forever seeking Mister Tight.



A Mexican girl jumped the Border

was caught, and the judge then implored her.

To hum on his rocket

for freedom--his docket

read that the case had a gag order.



It's kinda sad after the holidays. As you may or may not recall, I weighed in during December on the Christmas spirit, acknowledging that I'm ridiculously into the decorations and music and mood. But there's a price you pay.

The higher you get on Christmas, the lower you get after the holidays.

And now, I'm once again in a house where the tree hasn't yet been taken down. Simply because of time constraints, what with a road trip vacation and my sister having another baby thrown in and all.

I don't know what I can add to this commentary. We've all (pretty much) felt this way before. It's familiar and it probably actually brings YOU down a little to read about.

So that's what I'll leave it at. Post holiday blues.



While a girlie got a tattoo

between her legs, of Great Gazoo

the artist felt steamy--

she felt something creamy--

from down where he knelt, on her shoe.



I suppose you've read or heard that the big flag-raising scene, captured by a photojournalist, right after the September 11 attacks in New York, is being made into a sculpture, for memorial purposes. Perhaps you've also heard that the sculpture is to be altered because the actual scene only included white guys.

Time to colorize some of the faces on the "Washington Crossing the Delaware" painting as well, I suppose. And, what the hell, let's make all physical representations of Benjamin Franklin Hispanic...

The Christian Coalition recently settled a racial segregation bias lawsuit. Our homegrown, American wannabe Taliban organization! Gotta love that old time religion.



A man who good money would pay

for stripper girls with which to play

saw girls in the raw

up in Canada

which, properly, was "T & Eh."



It seems that Harry Pothead... Er, Prince Harry of the U.K., is upset that the press is prying into his private life after he was caught blowin' hooch and drinkin'.

Okay, Harry: Step down out of your position among the largest welfare recipient family of the U.K. and we'll leave you alone. Become a regular civilian and nobody will give a shit about your inbred ass...

A study just came out which found that "Aggressive Web Ads Annoy People." Does anybody know how I can become a studier of things? I'm lacking a job and it seems pretty sweet to sit around all day proving this kinda stuff. I've even got a few studies to start with that will put me in the same league as the current studiers! I'll start by studying whether residents of the South suffer less frostbite, then I'll move onto seeing whether or not people with pets spend more time cleaning their homes...



There was a hot lady named Mabel

whose new guy gave her a fine sable

amid a big fight

which set all things right

(he banged her on the kitchen table).



The Associated Press, in reporting on the "situation" in Columbia, has developed a penchant for geographical references. (Here's the situation in Columbia: Basically, the crooked, lousy government is continually fighting the slightly more crooked and lousy rebels, all thanks to the Delightfully Successful War on People Who Use Drugs.)

It seems that these rebels have been allowed their own little "state," or sorts. On Jan. 14, this "state" was described as being "about the size of Switzerland"; on Jan. 15, it was "about twice the size of New Jersey."

How much does the average American care about this story? It amounts to about the size of Rhode Island.



>This just in! New study confirms that reading A Daily Limerick will result

>in violent mood swings, internal hemorrhaging and, occasionally, laughter.

>Do not be alarmed, as these side effects will soon subside so you can get

>back to your suck-ass life. :)



>Don't Ask

Mood swings? I think I was on a mood swing once with this Peruvian girl and... Oh. I think you mean something else.

The only thing I'll vouch for in that study is the occasional laughter. Unless the "internal" part of hemorrhaging means inside one's pants.



A couple played furious footsie

and soon, her smooth feet she did putsie

up there on his groin

somewhere in Des Moines

and he shot all over her tootsies.



Although very few news outlets are carrying the story, it seems Tonya Harding is having difficulties paying her rent, and is in fact three months behind.

Not much of a story, I suppose, other than another tendency to the perils of gaining one's 15 minutes of fame. And Tonya is certainly not the most newsworthy of people (although one can argue that the simple fact of its surfacing in a news outlet is proof of its newsworthiness).

But it does provide another excuse for me to get turned on all over again by Tonya Harding--a sensation that goes hand-in-hand with a feeling of nausea over the very fact that Ms. Harding revs my motor.

And it also provides me with more opportunity to analyze why Tonya turns me on.

I think I have a mild and only occasional White Trash Fetish. Their Bad Girl nature, their long and gaudy nails, their big and ratted-out hair. It's just irresistible.

As a White Trash Fetishist, however, am I entitled to some sort of coddling in the name of Diversity?



A hot secretary named Robin

interviewed at Dobbin & Dobbin.

Her typing was tired

but still she got hired

due to her skills kneelin' and bobbin'.



Today marks a bleak day for comedy on the calendar, as well as a happy one.

It would be the 81st birthday of Bob Bell, the original Bozo. (Slappin' and Yappin' has made no secret of the influence Bozo has had on its operations.) It is also the 50th birthday of filmmaker John Hughes. I'll admit that much of Hughes' work is a bit corny, but much of it is brilliant as well, and he does make a lot of Chicago films, which is commendable (considering that foreigners who patronize Hollywood movies may believe there are no other cities in the U.S. besides L.A. and New York).

Today's darkness is fed by the fact that Curly Howard (I'm not sure of his first name) died on this day, 50 years ago...

On the recently released videotape of knuckleheads blathering about becoming terrorists, one guy kissing his gun. Provides more evidence of my theory that these baboon-brains REALLY need to get laid. I suspect that the whole reason they support Taliban-like regimes is because, well, if women were actually given freedom, they'd never get laid! And why are they always making these videotapes? I guess if you crawl out of a cave and see a video recorder, it's fascinating...

That Karzai cat, temporary leader of Afghanistan, now says he hopes the U.S. makes a long-term commitment to helping straighten things out. This from a guy who recently said they didn't need U.S. aid...

And that loser who opened fire at an Appalachian law school now claims he "needs help." Hey, we would've lent you a hand if you would've asked for it BEFORE shooting up a campus.



A man tired of beating his meat

went to the whore-house, down the street.

Felt ho's with his fingers

desired cunnilingers

and lucked out--'twas all you can eat!



I realize that it's actually January 20th as you're receiving this. Unless, of course, you're in Mountain or Pacific time. So I probably just should have shut up and let those of you in those time zones think it was my way of giving you that special gift. Extending a hand, if you will, across the time zones, giving those of you eagerly anticipating DAILY LIMERICK before midnight the illusion that, yes, I care enough to delay in my duties and give you a big, Times Square Ball Drop-esque midnight present.

Yeah. That's what I'm sticking with.

Now sing Auld Lane Sine (the January 19th becoming January 20th version)!



A foot-fetished fellow named Fahgli

with women's smooth pedskis got ogle-y.

Broke into their houses

passed panties and blouses

and humped-up their fine Bruno Magli's.



I don't know if, in the limerick above, "Magli" was spelled correctly. Nor do I particularly care. You get what you pay for, remember?

Anyhow, I must report that my weekend was ruined. The bad news began rolling in Friday when a temp agency called Friday and told me I had a job starting Monday. After not having a relaxing (read: good chance at good sex) weekend with the wife in a while, I was looking forward to this one and, having a freelance story due Monday at noon and generally planning to turn it in at the last minute, this meant some extra work over the weekend. But it was still lookin' mostly good.

(By the way, in some ways the landing of the temp job was "good" news. Monetarily speaking. But I'm not one who gets bored staying home and was hoping the next actual "job" pay check I would get would be from the writing/journalism field. But, instead, after a brief stint at a publication that sucked and was managed by evil, I end up back where I was a year ago--after a job at the Daily News of Los Angeles, publication credits including MAD and the San Francisco Chronicle, performance credits including Zanies Chicago and L.A.'s Comedy Store, I'm making a buck as a secretary. Yes, kids, do your best in school, work hard, and end up typing for a living! What a life lesson!)

But anyway, then some out of town uncle of my wife's calls Friday, says he's in town, wants to go to dinner, my wife offers to let him and his son crash at our place and--wham!--hell naturally follows.

Don't get me wrong. I do, indeed, like these relatives. And we in fact crashed at their place in Colorado on our trip back from L.A. to Chicago a couple years ago. And I can't fault my wife for offering family a place to stay, although they're not starving artist types and perhaps have not heard that a new invention called THE HOTEL has hit the streets and is sweeping the nation. I guess it's a combination of things that bothers me.

Number one, a primitive, caveman urge kicks in. Especially since we only have a one-bedroom apartment and, by City of Chicago standards, that's not exactly roomy. It essentially mean that my typical modus operandi is disruptive. I have strange rituals. For instance, as I'm getting ready in the morning, between doing chores like feeding the cats, I go over my comedy sketches quickly to help set them in long-term memory. After enough coffee, when I'm sufficiently "up," I puff on a cigar--but I go in and outside the apartment (thanks to the wife thing), having a puff and leaving the cigar outside, doing a short chore inside, having a puff outside, etc. This isn't particularly noisy, but when people are crashed in the only other room you have besides the bedroom, you walk a thin line between being considerate (despite the fact that the crashers weren't considerate enough to let you know they were hitting town AHEAD OF TIME--something my wife's family seems to have a defective gene regarding) and going about your own goddamned life.

This is compounded by the fact that I can't sleep as well knowing that semi-strangers are dwelling in my small "cave" and am thus up ridiculously early while my wife and said strangers have no qualms with this and sleep into the afternoon. So as I write this I'm awake, showered, ready to go but unable to do everything I'd like to because I have to be considerate toward the inconsiderate who are currently blissfully snoozing away. (Personally, I can't sleep well and pop up early when I crash at the homes of others--or at least I sit still on the couch until one of my hosts awakes, at which point I spring to life. This is my way of being considerate and honoring the caveman instincts of others, if they indeed have them.)

Don't get me wrong, if I KNOW somebody well (as I've had friends crash over), I feel a little better about going about my business and giving no shit about their sleeping. (If I know them well, I flat-out level with them: I get up at such and such time and do such and such--if you don't like it, well, I think there's a hostel nearby...)

I know that there's supposed to be some etiquette crap about the host honoring the guest more than vice versa, but, sorry, that's seriously screwed up and makes sense in the hotel industry where the guests are PAYING for the privilege. (I think the freeloading lobby successfully put that code of etiquette in place many years ago, because it makes no sense whatsoever--or perhaps it does if somebody's truly invited and not invited on a technicality, as in this current case, where we were more or less subtly shamed into doing it.) Perhaps this isn't a caveman thing because I don't know if others feel the same but... I guess I figure that maybe a caveman would worry about his elk meat and his woman and whether or not the guests would putter around with the drawings on his wall.

I don't know how to explain it better than that.




A fast food franchisee named Cox

used cashiers to get off his rocks.

Used no birth control

but kids weren't a goal

and so he'd just Jack on the Box.



Don Featherstone, the guy who created those plastic Pink Flamingo's which grace the yard of every Polack in Chicago, has had his signature dropped from the lawn-bound decorations. (By the way, I think I can say "Polack" because I'm a quarter Polish and its the only group with any remaining ethnicity whatsoever in my Americanized family. Perhaps I should start rapping and using the slur.)

I bet you didn't know that a guy's signature used to be on the things. And, no, my "ethnicity" lends me know insight into why they are favored by Polacks. (Am I spelling "Polack" wrong, by the way?)

Otherwise, I don't know what to say about this. I just found it interesting...

It seems some Somalian-Americans are upset about their portrayal in "Black Hawk Down." That movie (and it's precursor novel) was based on a true story.

It seems to me that the word "portrayal" is a little misleading when describing real, true-to-live events.

Unless you want to argue that Hitler's portrayal has been unfair.




>Sounds like you're experience a cave in. :p

I should've escaped in my trusty grotto-mobile.



The poem of wife-stashing Peter

the kids find could not be much neater.

Since his wife's stashed away

in a pumpkin, I say

it's X-rated--Pete's a PUMPKIN EATER!



How do you feel about the "good qualities" of fascist and other psychos?

For instance, in the whole flag-burning debate, sometimes someone will argue that "Hitler outlawed the burning of the national flag," to which a pro-flag-burning amendment person will answer, "Well, not EVERYTHING the guy did was bad."

Others will be quick to point to the fact that Hitler was a fierce anti-smoking type (and that all of his men lit up as soon as he died wherever they were). I personally see some similarity between anti-smoking zealots and Nazis, but that's another story, and it's just meant to prove the point that somebody can shoot back, "Well, not EVERYTHING the guy did was bad."

I just read today some proof of the fact that fascists can do good things. Hun Sen, the nutty, power mad Prime Minister of Cambodia, announced that any remaining karaoke bars will be destroyed by military tanks.

Imagine there's no heaven...

Speaking of ol' Adolf, being half-German myself, I've often had qualms about taking on that fierce pride many people have in their ancestors. I mean... Well, I don't have to explain much more than that.

But today I read about how, in Germany, an interview with Helmut Kohl was broadcast on TV. At the very same time, another German TV station broadcast an interview with Britney Spears.

One show was watched by twice as many viewers.

It wasn't Britney (perhaps "Only in America!"). It was the Helmut Kohl interview.

Der Fatherland!...

Whaddaya know...

The little brother of Master P was arrested for a shooting murder. He raps under the name "C Murder."

Well... Oh, it speaks for itself.



Continuing with some LTTI Pun and Games (portions are re-runs from previous installments):

>>I shouldπve escaped in my trusty grotto-mobile.


>Just don't drive too fast, or you'll be imprisoned -- in Stalagmite 17.


Huh? What? That was complex.



A lady, addicted to crack

was offered a bunch--for a whack

from Jamaican men

a group of three friends

so she dealt a hand of Black Jack.



The Supreme Court has decided that it's not quite kosher for prison to keep sex offenders in prison once their terms had run out. For years, prisons have enacted ways to keep sex offenders locked up or at least institutionalized (or perhaps under extra surveillance through "sex offender registration" laws) because sex offenders have a tendency toward being repeat offenders.

I say, "Hooray for the Supreme Court!"

Hmm. "Got a bleeding heart toward sex offenders there Sloop?" you may be asking. Actually, I applaud the decision because I think the mechanics of the legal system in this case are ridiculous. Kinda like how, while I despise "hate crimes" as much as the next guy, I don't think increased sentences deter nutballs--they in fact just make politicians appear like they're doing something (which is the end goal of politicians anyway).

Yes, sex offenders are often repeat offenders. And so we should lock 'em up for much longer periods of time. No stupid "sex offender" registration--when you leave prison the idea is that you've paid your penalty and are (somewhat) "rehabilitated." If you're not rehabilitated, you don't leave prison.

Perhaps decisions like this will have political showmen looking at the fact that we're locking up non-violent (drug) offenders for ridiculous periods and thus overcrowding prisons, causing them to release truly dangerous people early, all in the name of the Orwellian "War on Drug Users..." er, "War on Drugs"...

Master Card has a new slogan: "Supporting people who work hard blah blah blah."

How about, "Ripping off people who work hard--a little effort. Mercilessly mailing credit card applications constantly in the hopes of snaring the naive into lifelong debt--moderate effort. Making an easy living as a legalized loan shark--priceless."



Most men would love to get it on

with CNN babe Paula Zahn.

She claims she's on air

for reporting flair

but fans wonder, "Is that bush blonde?"



I read today that it's costing $40 million to house the International Olympic Committee members and their families for this year's Winter Olympics. The cost of putting on all the actual athletic events: $33 million.

Hmmm. Compare those two numbers at your leisure.

Long live the amateur (read: non-professional and non-money-making) athletic spirit!...

This is text from an actual classified ad I read today: "Free Computer Classes! Korean American Community Services offers free computer classes in English and Spanish!"

Korean Center. Classes in English and Spanish.

Apples. Oranges.



>For your slamming of MasterCard, I have to give you credit.

Hmm. Interest-ing.



There once was a shark named McCaffey

and lady sharks made him quite daffy.

He'd hide in the kelp

spy on them, and yelp

while pulling his saltwater taffy.



Why do they bother putting R-rated movies on network TV anymore?

Why did they ever bother?

But especially now...

The VCR has been invented.

Why? Why? Why?



There once was a lady named Marty

who threw a big Tupperware party.

But her biggest slip

was serving bean dip

for everyone there got quite farty.



Most of us have been afraid of cabbies for some time. Whether as pedestrians, as fellow drivers or as passengers, those who drive cabs prove day in and day out just your utterly frightening the automobile can be.

Likewise, many of us have long been horrified at the fact that people are driving around, in their multi-ton vehicles, while yapping away on a cellular phone, generally paying 50 percent (or less) attention to a task that can take a life away in the blink of an eye.

Imagine my terror this morning when I put two and two together. I saw a cabby, driving his taxi, while yapping away on a cell phone.

I suppose it's only logical that these two fiendish entities would team up. But I didn't real think of the possibility. The mind-bending terror is now overcoming me...

Be afraid. Be very afraid.



A man shaved his noggin because

his hair looked bad, so wore a buzz.

He became obsessed

and lifted each dress

a-seekin' to trim the peach fuzz.



Let me tell you about the American Tragedy that is Boston.

I'll get the "blah blah blahs" out of the way right now: Of course not every citizen of Boston is being indicted here and all that jazz. But...

Well, I've noticed for some time that the United States, the effective birthplace of Free Speech, is hobbled in its free speech as compared to other countries. We import a "Weakest Link" or even "All in the Family" (which was based on the English comedy, "'Til Death Do Us Part," and we have to "dumb it down," water it down for the American public.

To reiterate, we in the land of free speech need to have arts imported from countries who followed our lead diluted because, well, we apparently have problems with the idea of free speech.

If we zero in on this philosophy and go from countries to cities, we have a prime example in Berkeley, Calif. In the '60s and '70s, this was a front line in the battle for civil rights, sexual freedoms and all that stuff. Today, their student newspaper is the first to cater to politically correct Nazism. (For instance, in publishing a cartoon of the Sept. 11 hijackers appearing in Hell right after the attacks, student groups protested this "stereotyping"--never mind that I never realized you could stereotype but a handful of people, namely, the twenty or so losers who were involved in the attack--and the newspaper caved. I guess they're not terrorists--they're violence plagued dissenting non-Americans, I suppose.)

Anyway, on my little East Coast trip late last year and early this year, I discovered a few things about Boston. Now, who can argue that Boston would be one of the premier cities for the American way of life--a true birthplace of ideas of Free Speech, "All Men are Created Equal" and such. Now, political correctness has invaded it like a cancer.

First, while in New York, I read about their Alcohol Free New Year's celebration. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the War on Fun in the Name of Health has begun.

Me and the wife visited the "Cheers" pub. Like many places, it has strange accommodations for smokers, in this case, smoking is allowed at the bar only after 9 p.m. (By the way, with all the bitching and moaning by the travel industry, the state of non-smoking hotels and such led me to a realization as to why at least 25 percent of the population is travel averse--smokers today are like African Americans were in the '50s. I guess society needs to persecute somebody.) But anyhow, there was a sign at the Cheers bar that said, "Smoking is allowed at the bar--to exit in a non-smoking environment, follow the stairway..."

There are people concerned about spending 15 SECONDS around lit cigarettes?

Ben Franklin is passing a kidney stone in his grave.

Oh, and it seems that this story has now gone national, but I read in the Boston Globe about how the city council is seeking to eliminate the word "minority" from all city documents. I guess they want to replace it with "People of Color."

I think there is a conspiracy afoot to add more and more syllables to our daily language.

What about light-skinned Puerto Ricans, for instance. Will they be "People of Color who are Color Deficient"? How about the Jews?

Thanks for the baked beans there Boston, and the Tea Party was very nice, but we're just gonna ignore you now...



There once was a fellow named Wong

whose Willie was way freakin' long.

He pulled his flesh prize

back between his thighs

and wore his own cock as a thong.



Blockbuster's has now started labeling certain movies as: "Terrorist Themed."

Did I ever mention my idea for the invention of "The Personal Plastic Bubble"?...

Three women, aged 101, 102 and 103, all life-long friends, are being courted by Network execs to do a movie about their lives and experiences. Ol' Horse Teeth, Julia Roberts, wants to be involved.

Here's the best part: These women hadn't heard of Julia Roberts.

Surrounded by people drooling and fawning all over here, did her whole system of reality crumble? Did her handlers shelter the poor girl from the news?

All I know is that we need to learn to respect our elders more in this country.



I know this hot dame named Maritza

I'd jump her and pull her legs splitz-a.

I'd find some hot bliss

in one orifice--

in whichever my schlong best fits her.



Is it just me, or is it anytime you want to see a show that you like but didn't see enough of, and it's in re-runs, and you watch the re-runs occasionally, that you always somehow happen to see the same three or four episodes in re-runs, over and over again?

I welcome your feedback. And wish I had a girl who gave feedback. So I could say, "Baby got feedback!"

I don't know what's wrong with me today.



A bar chick, after three chiantis

decided to remove her panties

A man came, said "hey"

but then ran away

when he saw her silly implant-ies.



It seems the Great Hall of Justice (the place in Washington where Ashcroft often makes his announcements) has decided to cover up a statue which bears a--brace yourself--BREAST! My lord! Hide the children!

The statue is of a woman, representing liberty or justice or some such ideal, and she wears a toga, but it fails to cover the one hooter. The statue, by the way, was made in the 1930s. We've come a long way--and then went right back again...

Enron's chief financial officer is being promoted to chief operating officer and president, presumably to reward him for the fabulous strides Enron is making these days. More proof that Hollywood and the corporate world aren't all that different. And possibly a sign that it's time to give Martin Short another, even bigger show!...

The Motion Picture Association of America is refusing to let Mike Myers use the title "Goldenrod" for his next "Austin Powers" flick, as it somehow infringes on the James Bond name. ("The Spy Who Shagged Me" somehow didn't.) Although I don't understand how the Austin Powers movies can keep anyone's attention (much less spur laughter) for the full 90 minutes--and create a catch-phrase bonanza nationwide--it's frightening to see that the premier peddler of entertainment in the world is having First Amendment understanding issues.



A nympho and all around sleaze

loved taking it on hands and knees.

Her hungry back end

make her man's best friend

(She'd roll over, bark and catch fleas!)



So I guess Stephen King is going to retire after (something like) five more books and a TV miniseries. King brought up the fact that many writers just keep on writing and inevitably churn out a bunch of junk and, therefore, he wants to retire ahead of the game.

This idea is nothing new. It's the rationale behind Jerry Seinfeld's cutting his sitcom short. When Gary Larson and a bunch of comic artists stop drawing all it once a decade or so ago, I think the same reasoning was at least part of the scenario.

I'm never going to do that. Why? Well, I think I'll be mostly remembered for anything good I've done anyway (if I indeed HAVE done anything good and if I also ever become remotely famous)--I mean, we'll always remember Mik Jagger for the seminal Rolling Stones music and not "Hang Five," for instance. Plus, getting old and cheesy is under-rated anyway.

Take Elvis, for instance. If he had followed the same reasoning, we wouldn't have a fat guy in a jump suit who was nonetheless a God of Sex with all sorts of crazy legends and tales (including flying off in a jumbo jet regularly to get a certain sandwich from Denver and getting a DEA patch from Nixon) as part of our cultural history. (Plus, now you have TWO Elvises to choose from--young and agile or fat and crazed. Also, throughout all the later-day cheese, Elvis eventually pumped out "Suspicious Minds" and "Burnin' Love"--some of rock's finest moments.)

And, when it boils down to it, I can't imagine not writing and performing and stuff. So, for purely selfish reasons, I'll be jiggling around somewhere in rhinestones while legions of potheads in their parents' basements bash me, all the while bragging about how they were into me before I got big (when I was "raw" and "cool," man).

Viva la Cheese!


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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!

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