Friday, March 20, 2009

"Why Don't You Call Me Like You Used To?" Limericks

I’ve incorporated a new hobby to my repertoire, which includes but is not limited to writing, modeling, and fucking people up. This newly minted pastime is penning impromptu limericks for friends and family when they screen my calls, which is often. If you are the recipient of a personalized limerick on your voicemail centering on the theme of your shoddy correspondence, then you know you have been naughty.

A smattering:

I once knew a girl named Zoe
Her hair was red and blonde and flowy
She doesn’t return my calls
I say, “What gall!”
Her ass is skanky and ho- ey

I once knew a girl named Dawson
She thought she was all blingy and flossin’
She shops at the Greendale Mall
Her hair is a weave, not a fall
My salad she’ll soon be tossin’.

How obscene! That is certainly my most racy limerick to date, but a limerick must be bawdy! I really need befriend someone named Nantucket.

Here’s one I wrote for my mom. She doesn’t pick up my calls either.

I once knew a mommy we called Professor
She fancied herself a lady of leisure
She adores Frederick Douglass
But for her eldest daughter she is loveless
Mom please pick up, I am a national treasure!

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