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07/1/25   
Phoning it in since 1997

I Am the Girl From Nantucket

by Chandra Hiccough
bio/email
June 28, 2004
Since I believe my good name and hometown have been slandered long enough, I've endeavored to best (and hopefully replace) the famous ribald limerick that has dogged my earthly days.

Stand back and smell the magic:


There once was a girl from Nantucket,
Her anatomy oft compared to a bucket;
Unfair was the claim
Made against this fair dame,
Did I mention her name was...
ah, fuck it.

Let's try this again.

There once was a MAN from Nantucket,
Who would eat up clam then upchuck it;
So disgusting his trick
As to make a girl sick,
I wish I'd had the reflexes to duck it.

No, no, no. Why do I always end up writing about dad?

There once was a man from Toledo,
Who could not control his libido;
He liked little girls
All dressed up in curls,
And he watched as he ate his burrito.

Damn, grandpa. This is harder than it looks. Sorry everyone.

There once was a dog from Ann Arbor,
Who loved to swim laps in the harbor;
Not even his shrink
Could get him to think,
There was no harbor in Ann Arbor.

Okay, that was just strange. At least I got back to the city name at the end, though. Again.

There once was a man from Chicago,
Who slurred and drove an old Monte Carlo;
He cursed his shit car
As it rolled away from the bar,
"Hey everybody, look at that Chi-ca-go!"

Next.

There once was a girl from El Paso,
who caught riding bulls with a lasso;
But Elle held deep inside
Thoughts of suicide,
And when hung from the lasso, El Paso.

Oh my God. This is getting depressing.

There once was a girl from Detroit
Who was curious about Being John Voight;
Dee pondered the portal
And her doubts proved her mortal,
But when the time came to try it, Detroit.

Hey, not bad, almost there. Ah, who am I kidding?

There once was a girl from Miami,
whose awful limericks made her friends' palms go clammy;
But rather than admit her defeat
She conceived this poetic deceit,
So sorry for the whammy, Miami.


Quote of the Day
“When you wish upon a star… doesn't that burn like a motherfucker? Those things are basically like other suns. Me, I do all my wishing on the floor of my bedroom.”

-"Cricket-Bat" Nigel Jiminy
Fortune 500 Cookie
Your future lies in Clearasil, now and forever. Having Carrot Top fill in for you at the anchor desk Tuesday might just end your career. Why is more than one sheep still called sheep? And why are they so damned affectionate? You're going to regret correcting Randy Savage's grammar before the week is done. Saturday: Fish or die.


Try again later.
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