The importance of grammar.

Each time I return to this Church in Sheffield for a hatching, matching or despatching, I am thrilled to see that this sign remains.

I resisted adding a comma today as I choose to believe that at some point they did indeed have to contend with Parishoners wearing sex shoes.

See, limericks can be sad

Oh such sadness…

Lets explore the sadness of life through the joy of limericks


A young lad I knew as a senior

he got cancer, I think ’twas leukaemia

the treatment it failed

he got thinner and paled

and then died and his wife got bulimia


My dad was a drunk and a cheat

every weekend my mother he beat

took her cash to do drugs

bringing home sluts and thugs

’till we all ended up on the street


First time we met how I tried

not to love, but I made her my bride

then the marriage it failed

when her sister I nailed 

Took her life, overdose, suicide


My dog, my best friend always true

dedicated to me through and through

Drunk, I left the door wide

and she ran straight outside

got ran over and died now I’m blue

A chap that I know who loves choir 

had to quit giving up his desire 

he could not harmonise 

when he lost both his eyes 

and his tongue when he fell in a fire 


I think I’ll stop there, I’m not sure that I’m trying hard enough to make them sad.  Or maybe I should blame the limerick, either way I hope it’s not too inappropriate and I think it goes to show that even the most serious of subjects find some lightness in a limerick.

It’s Monday where I am. Just. Limerick time.

Aah the things we deny ourselves…

Once a lady with grace, class and poise

Had a craving for both girls and boys

She would keep it well hidden

What she thought was forbidden

And so got through so many sex toys