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

Looking for yet one more poem
Repeating is easy if you know 'em
But humorous verse
Can elude, and what's worse
Is finding an audience to show 'em

Think of Donkeys and Virgins and Poo,
That should tell you what limericks do.
There is naught too absurd,
For this quick written word.
And the audience waits there for you.


Go man..go..

Donkeys and virgins collide,
And rude boys say things that are snide.
Some pies fly through space,
And splat in your face.
It's funny unless you can'thide.

Your troubles are worthy of Dante;
No help, your defences are scanty;
Of course you're unnerved
But as Beckett observed,
"All misfortune is funny, I'll grant ye."

This is the story of Keith,
Who was granted a new set of teeth.
He ate up the street.
It was made of concrete,
And now he has moved to the heath.

I suppose was never in doubt
That the truth would come trickling out,
But the way it was told
Had our blood running cold--
Our hero was simply a lout.

The truth all too often must hurt.
Against it, we all must be girt
With pants of chain mail,
A bullet-proof veil,
And maybe a cast-iron shirt.

If you wear Superman's knickers,
You'll only attract lots of snickers.
Just go for his cape,
Then make your escape,
And go for High Tea at the Vicar's.

High tea at the Vicar's? No way!
Our Vicar's a rampant old gay.
I've no problem with that,
Coz he's at where he's at.
but I'll keep my belt buckled, ok?

Your vicar is one I've not met.
I'd sleep through his sermons, I bet.
Most clergy is nice.
I don't need their advice,
But after-church coffee I'd get.

A lusty young lady from Leath
Was the happiest when underneath,
The virile young Vicars
Who took off her knickers;
But only if they wore a sheath.

Edit, that should be Leith.

By now we've all seen Miley Cyrus:
Her image has spread like a virus.
Provocative smirking
And jerking and twerking
Is meant to beguile and inspire us.

Said Santa "It's all right for you,
I'm so busy, I've so much to do.
I'm enjoying the task,
But there's one thing I ask;
Please, PLEASE, shift this Reindeer poo."

The reindeer retired long ago.
It seems they were just tired of snow.
Santa Fedexes
To Georgia and Texas
And all other places gifts go.

Whenever I start seeing double
And the furniture all starts to wobble
I begin to suspect
No, rather, expect
That just 'round the corner is trouble!

There's a problem affecting my diction,
And it's causing some marital friction.
I love single malt,
Or some Rum, as default.
I'm afraid I've a boozy addiction.

(Not true of course-poetic licence)

I'm looking at cold, frigid weather.
It's hard to keep myself together,
For, like a trapped beaver,
I have cabin fever.
I'm just at the end of my tether

[Also poetic license.]

Here - borrow my scarf and my mitten
Made from the fur of a kitten
It's natural insulation:
The best in creation
At least - I think that's what's written

I don't fancy bits of a moggie
When pussies get wet they go soggy.
I'm still a believer
In wonderful beaver,
Not ferret, nor cat, and NOT doggie.

Good to read you again TC