Sunday, July 10, 2016

2145-2156. Twelve with a twist

Inspired by David's multi-stanza joke in OP316-320 and Suzanne's regular lengthy ones.

She was having a drink at the bar
When she spotted a hunk from afar
Both handsome and buff
She could not get enough
But something looked rather bizarre...

He was cut like he lived in a gym
Just could not take her eyes off of him

She imagined his weenie,
Picked up her martini
And found her tongue licking the rim.

His features were those of a Roman
Not one single hair needed combin'
She slipped off her chair
To head over there
And straight to his table went homin'


With muscles much like old King Kong

His attraction was ever so strong
As she told him her name
Her mind tried to frame
How to casually ask what was wrong

She said, "You're a sight for sore eyes
But I can't overcome my surprise.
These remarks aren't rehearsed
But I can't be the first
To ask, 'Why's your head half normal size?'"


He replied, "Let me buy you a drink
And I'll tell you what caused it to shrink."

The woman complied,

And sat down by his side
But wasn't sure what she should think.

He said, "I was born very thin
No muscles, and ugly as sin
One day, walking the beach,
I happened to reach
For a bottle that once had held gin.

As I brushed off the sand, smoke poured out
Plus a genie who let out a shout:
"I've been saved from the fishes!"
She said, "You've three wishes,
I'll grant them -- of this have no doubt."


No more than three seconds I took
To say, "I just hate how I look."
Can you give me the features
Of movie star creatures?"
Then, POOF!  My entire visage shook.
 

Next she said, "Tell me what you'd like second."
Again, I quite rapidly reckoned,
"Make me 6-2 and brawny
With skin that is tawny."
Another POOF!  My new self beckoned...

For she saw what my wishes had wrought
And must have become very hot
Clothes went flying and soon
I was having some poon,
A thing theretofore I'd had not.

I was fully alive (I'd been dead)
Should've kept my mouth shut but I said
Words I've always regretted
As we screwed and sweated,
"Could I have, um, a little head?"

13 comments:

  1. Well well, Maestro, I must say, you DO have a wild imagination! Good golly,I can only wonder what the heck else you do with it (oh never mind, it's none of my business). What a colorful story! (and I'm not just talking about the plethora of colors in the print).

    Like a movie, it was all so easy to visualize. You built up the suspense, having us all mystified about his 'head's' size (harhar). Then it climaxed to the punchline, bang! (sound of fireworks going off in the moment of realization as the mystery is fully unravelled. Woohoo!) And great rhyming too!

    (glad to know you've benefitted from my inability to make a long story short!)

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    1. Such kind remarks, Suz!

      You mentioned all the colors. When two or more people are speaking, I find it much easier to track who's who by using colors. I decided my audience might appreciate it, too.

      The last two stanzas (and maybe the weenie-martini verse) probably should've been in red but I think a 4th color would have just cluttered my painting.

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    2. That's not a bad idea, in case I write some in the future with multiple speakers.

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  2. Well done, Phil. Is the punchline yours, or did you do like me and adopt an existing joke? (My genie one isn't the first time I've done that either; there was a 5 verse blowjob joke a while back.) In either case, you've done a phenomenal job with it.

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    Replies
    1. Not 'my' punchline, Dave, but that's because the joke isn't original, either. Actually, I had to tamper with the punchline by dropping 'um' in there to sorta get anaepestic meter. I appreciate your kudos.

      I think I do remember your 5-stanza one on fellatio. Had it been on sodomy, I would go back thru the anals of my blog to find it.

      There must be at least ten genie jokes in which the 3rd wish is made inadvertently and screws everything up. Your "mare" surprise was a new one to me.

      Now, just because I wrote 12 verses, you two guys should not feel pressured to be the first to exceed me. If you do, fine, but I won't take it as a challenge to one-up whoever (if any) sets a new record for verses. My limerick belief remains, "Less is more."

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    2. I've never done one of more than five stanzas. I have done 5 on several occasions, though. The fellatio five-verser was submitted on 7/24/15 (OP186-190). I also had 5 stanzas about Jesus, Peter, and Mary Magdalene in a 9/8/12 entry, OP34-38. That was one of my first entries here. But it wasn't an adapted joke; that one was all me.

      I originally heard the mare joke somewhere on Facebook. And I imagine there are more than ten such genie jokes.

      To me, it is something of an accomplishment if you can string that many good verses in a row to tell a funny story, but if you could have done so in 8, 10, or 15, I'm sure it would have been just as good. Thing is, you don't want to sacrifice quality for the sake of quantity, but if you don't have to, go nuts and do as many verses as you want. I can't say I see a lot of filler in this one. Anyway, you basically go with the flow and let the story decide how long it needs to be.

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    3. Oh, and how could I forget, The Vagina Monologues, OP283-287, also five stanzas.

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  3. I emailed this one to a friend. He replied, "That is epic. I think you should change your name to 'Homer Graham.'"

    I wrote back, "You've given me an idea for my epitaph:
    "He ode a lot to limericks."

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    Replies
    1. That epitaph would be epic.

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    2. Well, an epitaph is sort of an epi(c)gram...

      Speaking of (and I may have before in this blog,) I wanted to name our daughter "Electra," with middle name "Cardio." Wife wouldn't hear of it. She even squelched "Ana." "Allison" has worked out just fine.

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  4. Phil, you said not to feel pressured to exceed your 12 stanzas. Heck, here I was, feeling pressured to write just one stanza by itself! I would think that if I were to exceed 12, I'd for sure receive a friendly lecture on 'less is more'!"

    Whenever I sit down to write a limerick, I never know how many stanzas will appear, even though I always plan on doing one. I end up going as far as the story will take me, be it 1, 3, or 6 verses. I only find out the number after I feel the story is complete.

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  5. In my hump/ball hope-pinion, the finest multi-stanza limmy is a dodecadoozie entitled "The Farter from Sparta." It bears #740-751 in the classic 1964 compilation "The Limerick" edited by "Rationale of the Dirty Joke" author Gershon Legman. Every serious (?) proponent of the penta-liner should own a copy (Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 74-78758).

    Called to mind is one of my favorite Garrison Keillor jokes: Q. What did the panty liner say to the fart? A. "You are the wind beneath my wings."

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    1. I presented the famed Farter from Sparta in January, 2015 as PD167-178.

      I wish I'd realized last Sunday that it had 12 stanzas. I'd have stretched my little-head-man story to contain a baker's dozen.

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