Couldn't help it. I was reclining on the couch late last night and spinned these new limericks in a few minutes. Equal opportunity offensive, once again.
There once was a pastor named Bart
Who made rhyme and meter his art.
But then he ate beans
And soon lost the means
Because he couldn’t find any word or combination of syllables that would rhyme with “art”.
A pastor from Brigadoon
Would often sleep in until noon.
But one morning with yawn
He rose before dawn
But then went back to bed very soon!
A Buddhist from Singapore
Reached Nirvana then could do no more.
So he sat on a stool
And started to drool
Then wondered, “Why isn’t three, four?”
A rabbi loved bagels and lox
And carried them home in a box.
But one day in a rush
He ate a quick nash
And found that he’d eaten his socks.
A priest from the region of Kent
Complained about where he was sent,
So the bishop O’Dell
Sent him straight down to hell
And made him do penance through Lent.
There once was a Mormon from Dunn
Who had thirty wives just for fun,
But one day at the mart
He met a young tart
And asked her to be thirty-one.
A pastor whose mind was this dense
Wrote rhymes that ‘oft gave offense.
And some wrote him letters
Saying “Put him in fetters!
For this is your recompense!”
A pastor who isn’t like me,
Wrote limericks and poems with glee.
But his blog was a dud
And his talent like mud
(No, I told you he wasn’t like me!)
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