A bloke by the name of Chopin,
Was desperate to be seen a man.
But O self-deceit,
He became more effete,
And dated a girl called George Sand.
The wonderful Modest Mussorgsky,
Invented what's known as a fork-ski.
As users admit,
They must do the splits,
To stop themselves falling awkwardskly.
That irascible Gio Rossini,
Was at pains to avoid all zucchini.
So strong was his hate,
That a sign on his plate,
Reads: Courgette? Attaccabottoni!
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky,
Had a name that was perfect for the first line of limericks.
The rest of the limerick, though,
Was a little harder,
Even though Swarovski crystals were around when he was.
4 comments:
I didn't really mean it Christopher. please write more beautiful heartbreaking things again soon. I don't understand limericks. They don't speak to me.
There once was an Angry Vagina,
Who took off to French Indochina.
While she was there,
She got quite a scare,
And left with some nasty angina.
There once was a horse with a penis
That was miniature spiky and heinous
He waved it in vain
Till the bloody thing came
All over that mare's mount of venis.
The last line has to rhyme with the first! You're a loose cannon, FV, but dammit, you get results.
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