Stuart Estell

Stuart Estell

There was an old man with two feet, Who kept them in shoes nice and neat. He really excelled At being self-propelled, And so went to the shops to buy meat.

There once was a brown little bird That sang in a forest, unheard. Its plumage was dull, Its song was banal, And its courtship attempts were absurd.

There once was a limerick so boring It made all its readers start snoring They couldn’t recall How it ended at all

...so they went on a day trip to Goring. (Anonymous)

A Limerick of ASCII codes

Ninety-eight starts, and then one-one-one One-one-four and we’re halfway along Next comes one-fifteen (oh, the boredom’s obscene) One-one-oh, one-oh-three and we’re done.

The loop subtracts one for the next String.format* converts it to text The console expels Verse that faintly repels If it crashes, you know you’ve been hexed.

I wrote about writing some code And thought that was the end of the road But no, I was wrong And the end of my song Is achieved in this last episode.

Off to Hull in a Handcart

I’ve boxes of limericks of boredom But cannot recall where I stored ‘ em They were all rather dull As I wrote them in Hull Though the people of Hull they adored ‘ em.

A Morrissey Limerick that is even more boring than the song about boring people from which it derives

“This world is full of crashing bores” Sang St. Stephen, “the critical snores Will not misdirect me For those who dissect me Are bastards and uniformed whores.”

“I Know It’s Over”, or, “How to reduce sublime melancholy to plain whingeing”

Oh mother the soil’s in my hair I’ve buried myself in despair The young and the pretty Have made me feel shitty I’ve had it, I’m off! It’s not fair!