Mick Twister

Mick Twister is an anagram of Twitmericks.

Mick writes limericks about the news on Twitter, pretty much daily, as @twitmericks. These are also reproduced below, with links to the relevant news stories.

He is the author of There Was an Old Geezer Called Caesar: A History of the World in 100 Limericks (Anova, 2013) and There Once Was a Man with Six Wives: Kings and Queens in Limericks (Pavilion, 2017)

He writes limericks with a biblical theme for the quarterly 197 Piccadilly magazine. http://www.sjp.org.uk/uploads/1/6/5/7/16572376/____pp197_autumn_2013smaller.pdf

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Irelandslide

The Irish reform referendum/

Saw women, and men who defendum,/

Asserting their choice,/

And using their voice/

On laws that control, to amendum.///

https://www.independent.ie/irish-news/abortion-referendum/

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Courtroom Drama

A very obnoxious old dork/

Appeared in a court in New York/

On charges of rape/

And couldn’t escape/

His own Harvey Weinstein perp walk.///

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-44257202

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Bad Korea Move

Old President Trump, on a whim,/

Has cancelled his summit with Kim;/

If Trump had his eyes/

On a Nobel Peace Prize,/

The chances now look pretty slim.///

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No Place Like Home

A couple evicted their son,/
Insisting it had to be done./
He cried: “That’s not fair,/
I can’t go out there -/
I haven’t yet hit 31!”///

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Having Your Pie in the Sky and Eating it

Said Boris: “If I am to fly/

The globe praising Brexit on high/

I need my own plane/

So we can maintain/

Our exports of pie in the sky”.///

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Pig Tail

A man who was tailed by a porker/

Called cops in to deal with the stalker;/

The hog said: “You rotters,/

Don’t handcuff my trotters -/

He’s just an unsociable walker!”///

 

Which reminds me of an old poem which has many versions. This is how I remember it:

 

One evening in October, when I was far from sober,

And carrying my load with manly pride

My feet began to stutter, so I lay down in the gutter,

And a pig came up and lay down by my side.

As we lay there in the gutter, thinking words we couldn’t utter

A lady passing by was heard to say:

“You can tell a chap who boozes, by the company he chooses”.

And the pig got up, and slowly walked away.

 

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Way Off Target

Let’s go around laying the blame/
On ritalin, sexual shame,/
Abortion or doors -/
Pick any old cause,/
Just don’t put those guns in the frame.///

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Meet the Folks

Some folks had a do for their wedding/

Halfway between London and Reading/

He said ‘that was fine,/

But after the wine/

It’s grandad’s reaction I’m dreading’.///

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Dying for a Shag

Oh pity the poor antechinus,/

The cause of whose rapid decline is/

That sex for the guys/

Provokes their demise -/

Survival-wise, rather a minus.///

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End of the Line

With Stagecoach and Virgin’s derailing/

By transport supremo Chris Grayling/

The privatisation/

Of train operation/

Is shown to be far from plain sailing.///

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