Riotous Limericks

You’re so stupid you think it’s sincere:
Urban violence designed to spread fear.
It’s a crisis they use
When they win, we all lose;
Civil chaos. The methods are clear.

Angry rent-a-mobs, looting and burning,
Destroy other’s livelihoods, earning
A good rioter’s wage
For destruction and rage
(As the locals, too late, are now learning).

The democrat leaders in Minn.
Are uncertain just where to begin
Cleaning egg off their faces.
They egg on the races . . .
The narrative’s starting to spin.

Underage Limericks

Jeffrey Epstein is gone. Suicided?
The conclusion is still undecided.
A libidinous god . . .
or a jewel for Mossad?
The tribunal is deeply divided.

Mr Epstein is gone . . . wonder where.
Is he dead? All conjecture is fair.
Was that him on the slab?
We all hoped we would blab;
his declassified secrets to share.

While her In-N-Out burger went cold,
Madame Maxwell held secrets untold.
She looked young for the times;
Let her pay for her crimes
and we’ll help the fine lady grow old.

This procurer of underage tail
made the Post, and then later, the Mail
Let us sing a refrain
for recruiter Ghislaine:
we would like her detained without bail.

Oh The Horror, The Horror !

 

Latte Liberals, from Berkeley to Boston
Have a new world of fun to get lost in:
Let Progressives have fits;
Monster trucks, flashing tits,
Are now trending in Cambridge and Austin!

It’s a scene you were taught to despise
As imprudent, plebeian, unwise . . .
Like that milquetoast George Fwill,
William Buckley’s ghost Bill
in his coffin is rolling his eyes.

Though you scold, as you cluck like a hen,
The great party goes on on, ending when?
Twenty-twenty will tell
Whether Liberal’s hell
Was created by God or by men.