Limerick Contest

[burnt]

Some farmers, to fight off the bore,
Tried their hand writing Irish lore
It turned out so bad
They all went home sad
And in far worse shape than before . . .

[parsley]

Just came on! All poets!! <3 Why, boys, I am
duly impressed. lol. And a new guy on and
writing limericks. ha . Welcome.

Wasn't that a great match last night, Cole? GSP
had the decibels up in the Mtrl arena. lol

Okay I'll jangle off a few limericks for you,
considering it is St Paddy's Day and the Irish are
grateful that the Vilkngs spared the most of them.
Pars

[sumdumguy]

There once was a farmer from Wink
Who spent the winter in the rink
To Agristability the neighbours applied
Some of them he said they lied
To pad their fat pocket books!

That's it, Pars your turn.

[parsley]

Hoping to win an ice cream pail full of pennies
from cott as a prize.....:



#1
Young Paddy had fists trained to fight 
At any old bar at midnight
His temper a flarin'
Cause no girls were carin'
And friends said, "Old Paddy ain't bright." 

#2
Young Paddy, with Mike, drove so fast, 
His Mustangs just never would last
Transmissions would fail
While his father would pale
And neighbours would stand back aghast. 

#3
Young Paddy drove stuck in a hole 
His Dad's Massey tractor the goal. 
He ground the wheels down
And then headed for town
Both Casinos had dices to roll.

#4
Young Paddy was Irish, red hair
He drank and he swore, took the dare
To text Widow Rose
And in it propose 
They marry, her money they'd share. 

#5
Young Paddy loved Mary's blue eyes
And especially through four or five ryes
He'd plan and he'd plot
How to touch her hot spot
And tell her the wildest of lies.

#6
Young Paddy was such an Old Fart 
Cuz that Mary kept breakin' his heart
So he drank and caroused
Till the cops had him housed
And awoke in a cell with a start.

#7
Young Paddy hung out with Short Mike
Ever since they was six and could bike
They puked, fought,  and prayed
To get lucky and laid
Till one nite poor old Mike met a dyke.....

#8
Bold Paddy had sex to propose 
To this neighbor who called herself Rose 
But before he was done,  
He escaped, on the run
And was sporting a red bloody nose. 

#9
They confessed they had sinned, to the priest
Their penance designed for a beast 
Both boys vowed "never more"
As they piled out the door 
Headed for St Patrick's Day feast. 

Happy St. Patrick's Day, you rascals. Pars

[ColevilleH2S]

Burnt set the bar pretty high with that
one.

[sumdumguy]

Oh shize, better be a pail of 1964 dimes for that
effort. You have a calling, my friend. I cant even
pretend to catch that with my Jeep Catchery.

[phoenix64]

So here's to every last bloke,
Who's wives are as hot as the smoke,
Now get on your knees ,
And pleasure her please,
For I'm tired of going for broke!

[JDGreen]

So where the hell is BTO?
That's right the guy with the oversized pie hole.
You'd think he'd be here
With all the bantering and jeer
Perhaps he's out kissing hutt smokeholes?

[sumdumguy]

You guys bring a tear to my eye,
Sort of like the show, "American Pie"
The only thing wrong
Is no BTO bong
He refuses to play, he's too shy

[bucket]

Gust gets appointed to these things and
by his own admission its a bit of a
hobby for him.

If he can't take the flak then he
shouldn't be there.

I have sat on boards but asking far too
often " who thinks this shit up". I stay
away from them.

There is no reason for a wheat
commission. Nor mandatory checkoffs.

Let the guys like gust sign up and have
the checkoff on their grain. I have
better things to do with that cash.

[JDGreen]

Let us forget the old wheatie board
And its 8 crazy directors dear lord
Both Allen and Stew
Did not have a fukin clue
And now their admittable to a psych ward


That's it from me no more limericks. Done my
part

[JDGreen]

Let us forget the old wheatie board
And its 8 crazy directors dear lord
Both Allen and Stew
Did not have a fukin clue
And now their admittable to a psych ward


That's it from me no more limericks. Done my
part