h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

When it comes to beer, I don't drink
And three halves send me over the brink
I'm not enthusiastic
If a rhyme is fantastic
I'm so meh, I'm in need of a shrink

Yeh!

There was a young lad from Khartoum
Who lived in a small attic room.
He could get quite a thrill,
From a blow up called Jill,
Who looked almost real in the gloom.

I've been spending the whole of today
Hearing ukers from everywhere play.
Winin' Boys, Dave and Uff
Gus and Fin--mighty stuff
But especially Poupées Gonflées.

(Not to mention the West Cork Ukulele Orchestra, and the legendary Janet Klein)

http://www.ukulelehooley.com/Artists/

I admire folks who play the uke
Be they commoner, foreigner, duke
They have such a way
with the tunes that they play
Everyone should go have a look!

There once was a musical tar,
Who'd traveled the globe, near and far.
He had ukes galore,
Pianos and more,
But liked most his handmade guitar.

On guitars, I prefer e-minor
A rich chord, and none's finer
Just E, G, and B
(H in Germany,
They had a different notation designer)

Yes, string instruments make me mellow.
I'm really quite fond of the cello.
I can make the case
That the old double base
Is quite a remarkable fellow.

A double bass player called Bing,
Out of pubic hair plaited a string.
How his girlfriend would glow,
When he stroked with his bow:
They were into, well, that kind of thing.

In this preference they both were united,
Their pubic bow bowing delighted
Them both very much
Their reaction was such
That it made their neighbors excited.

A cello with strings made of hair
Was sitting, just going nowhere,
When an amorous fiddle
Decided to diddle.
The rest you can hear on the air.

This is a most dangerous topic
For those who are slightly myopic
Remember this forum
Insists on decorum
And the heat in here borders on tropic

We'll make lovely music together,
But first I must unhitch this tether
Which keeps me constrained
Since last time it rained.
Our future depends on the weather.

Is there really a bike that can fly?
Yes, it's hard to imagine, but try.
It's enormous and weird
And it still can't be steered
But it's up there, if not very high.

http://ow.ly/mQXMe

A trainee young farrier from Wales,
Couldn't figure out how to hit nails.
Then some fell from the gate,
On his tutor's bald pate;
And he hit the head right on the nails.

There was a young fellow from Wales
Who ate shredded wheat by the bales.
He chewed with such frenzy,
I'm told by his friends, he
Destroyed all the Welsh bathroom scales.

Now that* was a homophone rhyme:
In English such things are a crime.
Called 'rime riche' in France
Where they're not seen askance,
You can reel them off ten at a time.

*frenzy / friends he

"Was that phone home?" said drunken E.T.,
Too much Whiskey has caused him D.T.
Then he thought, and he said,
"I need tin cans and thread,
It's a waste of time asking B.T.".

There was a young lady from Colne,
Who walked on the moors on her own.
She met a dark stranger,
Who showed her the danger;
Now she doesn't go walking alone.

It said "Powder Room", there on the door,
In she went; it was sad what she saw.
It was darker than night,
so she struck up a light;
'Twas a warship, but ain't any more.