There once was a woman born in 1981 Who started a rhyming thread and said it'd be fun No one else thought so and we started to cringe So please moderators sink this thread to the bin
There is a man known as Duchatelet Who bought a club, because of financial fair play. But the scheme was dropped, so off he hopped, And now he has nothing to say.
But Katrien Meire says to have no fear, Because there are some plans, It’s just that they’ve faltered, (but they won’t be altered) Just because of the fans.
With spotty faced youths and cheap foreign imports, We’ll live and survive the day, But the excitement has gone, so I want prolong, I’ll just bid ye farewell … and be on my way.
There was a young man from Nantucket, Who was sure he would soon kick the bucket, But his doctor said "No, You're not ready to go", So the young man got on with the rest of his life and chose not to worry so much
That's awful especially as you have a name that could easily be a poets.
Are you Simon Cowell in disguise? You have completely crushed me there. My pen has been returned to the pencil case, zipped up and put away - you'll get no more poetry from me.
A mad Belgian man called rich Roly Thought football was played far too slowly He told the coach of his need To see attacks at high speed And never to play with a goaly.
Aged rat duchatelet took proud Charlton's club to play. He hired a liar, Adding fuel to the fire. Now fans wish they'd both just go away and crawl back under their stones like the lice they are.
There was a man called Slade Who knows how much he gets paid? Hired by a liar, but until we find a buyer, we're stuck with a man who was employed by Vincent Tan.
There was a man called Slade Who knows how much he gets paid? Hired by a liar, but until we find a buyer, we're stuck with a man who was employed by Vincent Tan.
There was a man called Slade Who knows how much he gets paid? Hired by a liar, but until we find a buyer, we're stuck with a man who was employed by Vincent Tan.
There once was a posted named Otto Who was rather shite at rhyming!!
There was a young bard from Japan Whose limericks never would scan When asked why it was He said "It's because I always mess it up at the end by trying to stuff as many words into the last line as I possibly can."
There was a man called Slade Who knows how much he gets paid? Hired by a liar, but until we find a buyer, we're stuck with a man who was employed by Vincent Tan.
There was a man called Slade Who knows how much he gets paid? Hired by a liar, but until we find a buyer, we're stuck with a man who was employed by Vincent Tan.
There once was a posted named Otto Who was rather shite at rhyming!!
There was a young woman in Bude, Who would dance on the stage in the nude. A chap at the back Yelled out "Can I smell crack?" Which we all hoped was a drugs reference or this limerick has just got unnecessarily coarse, which wouldn't do at all.
There was a young lady called Myrtle Who had an affair with a turtle And what's more abominable A swelling abdominal Proved to Myrtle, the turtle, was fertile.
Comments
Zippy got silly and pulled out his willy and stuck it up Bungles bum.
Who started a rhyming thread and said it'd be fun
No one else thought so and we started to cringe
So please moderators sink this thread to the bin
Who dropped A very big bomb
It blew in is face
He flew into space
And that was the end of Tom.
K - I - S - S - I - N - G
There was a tycoon from Ostende
Regarded as one great bell-end
A man of great means
He bought football teams
And drove their fans right round the bend
Who bought a club, because of financial fair play.
But the scheme was dropped, so off he hopped,
And now he has nothing to say.
But Katrien Meire says to have no fear,
Because there are some plans,
It’s just that they’ve faltered, (but they won’t be altered)
Just because of the fans.
With spotty faced youths and cheap foreign imports,
We’ll live and survive the day,
But the excitement has gone, so I want prolong,
I’ll just bid ye farewell … and be on my way.
Who was sure he would soon kick the bucket,
But his doctor said "No,
You're not ready to go",
So the young man got on with the rest of his life and chose not to worry so much
His oar jammed in the rollocks,
Smoke and flames rose all around,
So he dove over the side and swam away
Violets are Blue.
Its ME who luvs Lucy
And not any of you!!
Lucy belongs to you
but when I met her
I slung it in her poo
Violets are blue
I'm shit at poems
Lucy has nice tits
A mad Belgian man called rich Roly
Thought football was played far too slowly
He told the coach of his need
To see attacks at high speed
And never to play with a goaly.
With Charlton on the slide
November 5th is coming soon
Go crawl away and hide
They never went back to the Valley
Until the regime leaves the scene
Neither will Aunt Sally
took proud Charlton's club to play.
He hired a liar,
Adding fuel to the fire.
Now fans wish they'd both just go away and crawl back under their stones like the lice they are.
not sure that scans if I'm honest, ho hum...
Who knows how much he gets paid?
Hired by a liar, but until we find a buyer, we're stuck with a man who was employed by Vincent Tan.
Who was rather shite at rhyming!!
Whose limericks never would scan
When asked why it was
He said "It's because
I always mess it up at the end by trying to stuff as many words into the last line as I possibly can."
But thanks for the encouragement though
Who would dance on the stage in the nude.
A chap at the back
Yelled out "Can I smell crack?"
Which we all hoped was a drugs reference or this limerick has just got unnecessarily coarse, which wouldn't do at all.
Who had an affair with a turtle
And what's more abominable
A swelling abdominal
Proved to Myrtle, the turtle, was fertile.
With the club run by a woman of spite
Try their limited best
While the manager, Slade, tries to take it on the chest
His chest slips
Making a move towards his hips
He plays the boys
After repeated losses he announces we are nothing but toys
Of the regime.