Friday, December 23, 2011

445. Self-portrait

To anyone still reading, I apologize for brow-beating you to help me popularize this site by visiting more often, telling your friends, etc.  My passion for this rhyme-form is obviously not shared by many others.
There once was a poet named Phil
Who composed dirty limericks at will.
But he was obsessive
And so damned aggressive
It made all his friends say "Phil, chill!"

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