I’m standing in Dave’s cozy kitchen
Surrounded by chatter and bitchin’
We’re all kindred souls
Who have come from both poles
‘Cause his red beans and rice are bewitchin’!

At Simon’s birthday party uptown
The people hung upside down
We ate more than we oughta
And watched a pinata
Dashed mercilessly upon the ground

There once was a guy with a fear
That he’d never again have cold beer
The fridge went away
But it’s back now, okay
And the process took just half a year

Hal, who’s good at carpentry
Has rebuilt our uncomfortable settee
So give Brian a beer
And he’ll sit on his rear
And his glutemus maximus will be happy!

Come now, let’s not dawdle
Astronomy needs a new model
So Brianstein, in a trance
Creates the “theory of irrelevance”
Which you get when thinking out of the bottle!

Our limerick lady’s gone mute
With nary a rhyme from her snoot
So absent’s her muse
That she ought to recuse
And give this lame poem the boot!

Our next overnight destination
Was the subject of much rumination
When we asked where to go
Folks said, “Gee, we don’t know”
We don’t cruise here when we’re on vacation!

Inspiration is striking me fast and furious…SIX new limericks in two days!

To pull out the wires from the main
We hired “Mr. Stiffy,” the crane
But the wires all went SNAP!
And the crew all went, “CRAP!”
These unsteppable masts are a pain

When it was time to bring Barry back down
Margaret tried, then announced with a frown
“This thing’s gone amuck!
The halyard is stuck!”
Now we know why the wires are bound!

So we hauled down with all of our might
To bring Barry down from that height
Brian grunted and groaned
Margaret worried and moaned
Barry wondered if he’d be there all night!

There’s a reason we call him, “The Man”
If anyone can do it, Brian can
So now Barry’s on deck
Though Margaret’s a nervous wreck
And all three have a brew in their hands

I am keeping an eye on this guy
Who is perched about 60 feet high
It’s my job to make sure
He is safe and secure
And he doesn’t fall out of the sky

But you’d think he would show some more tact
In appreciation of my kind, selfless act
With a Newtonian splat
Detritus falls on my hat
With a resounding “OOPSIE!” on impact

The Tchefuncte river is pretty and fair
Its worth many a risk to sail over there
But the clams are morose
‘Cause our keel was so close
We sailed over the bar with inches to spare