Okay, so it's an annual tradition. The AW carol and limerick-fest has been around for a few years now, and to be honest, I thought that when the old website disappeared that'd be the last of it. But it seems the poetic drive is still strong in us, like the Jedii Force. So here we go again...
My original suggestion was that contributions go straight to a dedicated Google group, from whence the ripest items could be plucked to adorn the blog. But what the heck - post 'em here as a comment.
Rules? A COG connection, humor, and possibly a seasonal theme, though that's optional.
Inspiration? From last year come these masterworks.
There was an old dude known as Herb
Who found Miss Ramona superb
‘Til she, tired of his con,
Put her makeup back on
Then he dumped her arse out on the curb.
There was an old codger called Rod
Whose beliefs were incredibly odd
He said "the world's endin'
"Your tithes I'll be spendin'
"Just pretend that they're going to God."
AWAY IN A MANGER
Away in Ohio, no brains in the head
The little Lord David, speaks till we're near dead
The stars in his eyes looking out 'or the crowd
Doth hear that their babies are crying too loud
How dare thee interrupt me, The Lord David said
Doth Satan infest thee, sweet babies not fed
I ne'er have this sermon e'er given before
So Deacons and Elders now guard all the doors
Amazing to me, who would know, sure not I
Am Watcher, Apostle and the special guy
There is none just like me, so far as we know
So stick in thy chairs, for proof texting we go
The members are groaning, it's quarter past four
We've been here forever, please open the door
Oh no, I'm not finished, said Lord Dave most High
And let not thy babies not fed start to cry.
For Satan doth know I am special as he
And hates me so much for the guy that I be
My work is just awesome, the hits not a few
So give me your money, I've God's work to do.
Oh please Dear Lord David, just open that door
So I can revive my sweet child on the floor
For long of hot air is thy sermon today
I feel my life force slowly ebbing away.
We beg thee Lord David, get right to the point
And do not our eyes with your salve more anoint
For two hour sermons do make our butts sore
Please David, Lord David, Please open the doors