One of our long-time readers, Alaskan, reminded me that I have a responsibility--nay, a duty--to post the most obscene gameday limericks possible.
It's a tradition we started long ago here at IAOFM; it's high time I held up my end of the bargain:
All of this fake girlfriend stuff really has me worked up. The only cure?
If the girl that you love is a con
on the web from a dude name of Ron,
you should know it's a shame
to attend Notre Dame
and expect cyber hummers, Don Juan.
Give it your best, and always remember, a limerick isn't a limerick unless it's crude, rude, and it mocks Notre Dame (or Vic Lombardi, Notre Dame grad).
It's the playoffs in Denver--Limericks, at altitude:
In the cold there's a game on this day
where the Broncos keep the Ravens at bay.
It won't take but a drive
for the Broncos to thrive
and flat crush the slow birds on the way.
Sorry to get to this a little later than I would like, but as always, take your own shot.
A lot of things happen when you get on a winning streak. One of those things is that you forget your responsibilities--namely, a game-day limerick.
So here goes (in pure-form anapests):
It's the last of the games of the year
for the AFC West to revere
the appeal of the pass
and a hoof up their ass:
it is Manning and Denver to fear.
Thanks to my boy Alaskan for reminding me of my responsibilities. Feel free to give it your own shot (anapestic or not) below. Just remember, crude and lewd is quite shrewd, dude.
Without the Broncos to watch on Sunday, I'm forced to attend church, clean out the garage--just kidding. I have two advanced degrees, the recession hasn't touched me, and I'm one of the 53%. So I just hire that stuff out, y'all.
Which brings me to my real point--limericks. Feel free to have a whack at life without the Broncos on Sunday. Here's what I did with my left hand (my right hand was otherwise occupied after watching reruns of Baywatch). You see, 53% of us can multitask.
Sunday Cruddy Sunday
On a day like today I would say
there's nothing in this life as the play
of the Broncos on high
with a Manning so spry
that a Denver rerun is as gay¹
In honor of Rod Smith, I completely ignored the Texans and instead wrote a limerick in honor of one of the baddest dudes in Broncos history:
One day in a play came the Rod
on the field from the practice squad.
No Darrell the Green
could stop the orange sheen
of a mile-high, hustling god.
Feel free to take your own shot below. Go Broncos!
Matt Ryan never loses at home--so we're told. That doesn't mean he avoids getting limericked.
We have Matty Ice at his home.
He can only play in that dome.
He’s in for a shock
when Champ picks the rock
and flashes tonight like he’s chrome.
Give it your best shot, Broncos fans!
You never know when the muse is going to strike. It could be at the strip club. It might be at a staff meeting. Or perhaps you're in church tuning out a sermon on the Book of Job while considering the suffering of Nickelback fans. The point is this: you never ever know.
Enter Tim Tebow's 25th Birthday.
If shirtless the Teebs would just praise--
a hero to Christians and gays.
No good is his pass;
it falls to the grass
but zombies demand that he stays.
Feel free to take your shot. Give Teebs some media attention since he (and his blood-sucking brother) don't seek it; he only goes shirtless when it's raining--you know, because no one wants to run in the rain with clothing.
Nothing beats mocking your opponent in the hours leading up to a game--even if it's only preseason.
Obviously, this week's topic is the Chicago Bears, or as I like to think of them, Jay Cutler and Brandon Marshall.
Absurd in a word is the pair
of Jay and The Beast in a stare.
The eyes are a lock,
the pattern a mock--
the safety just picks from the air.
Take your shot. Mocking Jay Cutler never gets old.
And for more limerick fun, check out the entire history of IAOFM's limericks here.
Sometimes you wake up and you go through the motions; other times, you feel a Limerick coming on.
Unrein on the line is unreal,
and larger this year--sex appeal.
he brings it each day,
from practice squad to tungsten steel.
Let it breathe. Then try your own in the comment section. The worst thing that can happen is laughter.