A weekend in five limericks

(based on suggestions from @mlledelicieuse and @suz_la)

1. Four-hour drive

When travelling far with a toddler

Your mind will grow oddler and oddler

But you won’t lose your rag

if when packing your bag

you make sure you’ve got your iPoddler.

2. Japan

Tsunami comes in by report

When changing the channel I’m taught

it’s not yet their turn:

disaster must learn

to wait until after the sport.

3. Dirty angel

A statue that in local slang

Created a nice sturm und drang

But still he looks down

On the rest of the town

Quietly holding his wang.

4. Café

You know, as a matter of fact

my small-talk will lack in some tact

When a tantrum’s in flight

I’m not chatting ‘cause quite

honestly I can’t be frakked.

5. Party

There once was a party in Yambuk

I drank and I didn’t pay one buck

I could have drunk many

But since I’m not twenny

I’ll stick to avoiding the upchuck.

______________________________________

Today’s poem is based on suggestions from two peeps:

• @mlledelicieuse: “I was once at a party in yambuk…limerick pls?”
• @suz_la: “dirty angel. You should write about the dirty angel”

I have blogged previously about my deep and abiding love of limericks.

So I have done you a weekend in Warrnambool’s worth of limericks –the drive down, the disaster in Japan that I had to wait until 7pm to learn more about, notorious local statues, stressing about a two-year old in a café while family tries to chat to you, and my friend’s 30^th birthday party at the Yambuk pub (the photo is taken on the way to the bathroom).

For those of you unaquainted with Warrnambool's 'dirty angel', it is a statue of an angel holding a wreath, that when viewed from a particular angle, takes on a somewhat different character.

At one point amidst family and car chaos I tweeted something along the lines of KILLMENOWKILLMENOW, and @tysonarmstrong came back with this gem that I get to reproduce in full:

@tysonarmstrong:

@annaryanpunch I have made you a poem.

There was once a lady named Punch,

who wanted to die during brunch,

She logged onto Twitter,

Was no longer bitter,

And made it right through until lunch.

GOLD. Twitter, I don’t deserve you.