Friday, March 26, 2010

Pride

This contest is quite a good trick
To get writers back to the d-tick
So filthy, I’ll talk
About boobies and cock
And brag ‘bout the size of my dick


If you travel to Halifax
You will find we do things to the max
the only down side
though I say with great pride;
Such big balls are quite hard on our backs

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Some Tuesday Afternoon Limericks!

One week into the contest, we have several submissions, but we'd love to see some more

Here they are thus far, in case you don't want to trudge through the comments.

From "I Cant Give You Anything But Love":

Bernice, your idea is terrific
(Though your meter was unscientific)
DT has of late
Been slow out of the gate
Our posts have been dull, unprolific.

And a contest! My heartbeat, it quickens!
That'll surely cure what we've been with-stricken!
I can't wait to observe
The poetic hors-d'oeuvres
We'll produce--unless you're all chicken.

There once was a chap from Bermuda
Who delighted in Pablo Neruda
He was swimming around
When, still reading, he drowned
And was lunched on by two barracuda.

I'm writing a paper on China
Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah
He plays the banjo
But I'm stuck in the library
Vagina vagina vagina.

There once was a grizzled old panda
Who enjoyed a drink on the veranda
He drove a Mercedes
And cavorted with ladies
Until they sent him straight back to Uganda.

In addition to this, a young turkey
With a yen for breasts little and perky
Liked to wiggle his snood
In a manner quite rude
For a bird, 'twas surpassingly quirky.

From Bernice:

There once was a lass named Mcnerney
who rogered a fella named ernie
it would have gone fine,
but ernie was equine,
and McNerney wound up on the Gurney.

There once was a man named McGrath
whose lovers all trod the same path
they wanted a roll
but he got the wrong hole
yes, mcgrath went straight for the ath.

On how many roads walks a man?
until he develops a plan
for passing the tricky
tests to dip dicky
with another, and not just his hand

From My Mom Thinks I'm Funny:

My dear sir, I implore, just try me;
Your rhymes are just fit to wipe hineys;
I'll take up your task,
And drink from my flask--
After all, today is St. Patty's.

In Hali, the sun is a-blooming,
And you Mo-town kids should be swooning,
'Cause I'm out and about
In a t-shirt no doubt
And ignoring those tests which are looming.

(That last rhyme was rather pathetic,
I shouldn't have writ, but I meant it;
In hopes to regain
My standing, though lame,
A line about boobs: "I love tits.")

I once knew an elderly hobo
Who'd share all his wisdom pro bono,
He'd wander around
And yap on profound
Until screaming aloud, "I'M HAN SOLO!"

From Weasel J. Bag:

There once was a blog named The 'Tick
Whose members learned very quick
that if they need snogging
to yell "I love blogging!"
for young hipsters will fall for their shtick.

there was a young fellow, Bernice
who buggered a young girl, Elyse
with all said and done
he'd ravaged her bum
but at least she was still in one piece.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

More reasons why the Internet is the BEST THING EVAR

A Tuesday Morning Limerick




The 'Tick is a blog delightful
with humour and chatter insightful
blessed with content anew
once in a moon blue
I hope this didn't sound spiteful.

I'm hoping to spread the word out
so we can continue to grow our nerd clout
it's time to keep blogging
our brains are all clogging
prescription: get some absurd out.

I know posts like this are so lame
so i've decided to make it a game
if you can't think of nothin'
instead of sittin and cussin,
why don't you try doing the same.

Two Hundred and Ninety posts in
There's gotta be something to win
"Dessert Tickets Jest"
a limerick contest!
first prize: a bottle of gin.

If we can't be the Blog that Keeps Thinkin'
At least be the ones who keep drinkin'
please keep them dirty
ribald, hurdy-gurdy
to save this old ship here from sinkin'

So come back right here to the tick
and send in your finest limerick
Y'all should have something to show
i've set the bar oh-so-low
and it's easy to rhyme about dicks.

Just start a new post like normal
click the link in the top right cornah
just try your best
in our silly contest test
you don't need to rewrite the mourner's.

Thanks to you for reading my rap
at times it was great, others: crap.
all i hope that i did
was appeal to your id
who doesn't love a poetic fap?

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Akbar Zeb is a love machine.

Dear Blag,

I saw this link on facebook and thought I'd share it with you, totally without commentary or analysis.

Sincerely,

W. Bag.

"In an unfortunate result of translation, Pakistani diplomat Akbar Zeb will not become the next Pakistani ambassador to Saudi Arabia. Zeb’s credentials seem in order: He is the former ambassador to the United States, India and South Africa. He held the post of High Commissioner Designate of Pakistan to Canada and is the former director general of Pakistan's Foreign Ministry.

But despite Mr. Zeb’s impressive career, the 55-year-old diplomat’s name proved to be the immovable hurdle. When translated into Arabic, Akbar Zeb means “Biggest Dick.” In a region that stresses modesty, particularly in public, this could not stand."

Monday, March 1, 2010

Floating Moose, Neil Young, and a Mime

the olympic closing ceremony ended with michael buble singing next to eighty-foot cardboard cutouts of hockey players and inflatable beavers.