Skeptical Limericks contest

It’s the start of a new month, and you know what that means: Skepchick Contest Extravaganza!

The contest for this month is Skeptical Limericks. For example, you can make up any limerick about your favorite Skepchick (just so you know ahead of time, it’s hard coming up with things that rhyme with Rebecca :D), science topic, or science podcast/website/organization etc. You can also use the limericks to mock conspiracy theories, pseudo-science, Syliva Browne, or anything woo that gets your goat.

The contest will end on March 17th. Keeping with the theme for that day, the prize for the best limerick is a personalized signature cocktail recipe created by our very own Skepchick Elyse! For those who are under the legal drinking age, Elyse will create a personalized signatre non-alcoholic cocktail receipe.

As with the last contest, put your limericks in the comment section of this post. At the end of the contest run, we will post the all-time favorite winner!

I can’t wait to see what you come up with!


Jill is forever chained to her art desk, scribbling away.

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  1. You've caught me. I LOVE lyrical poetry, and combined with naughtiness, how can it fail? Here's a couple I wrote while at work.

    In order from “Safe and tame/lame” to “funny and disturbed”

    At last, the hot ‘chick-calendars’

    received by skeptical amateurs

    a brief, fleeting though

    that science is HOT!

    while also being chastity saboteurs.

    My “anti-depressants do not work”

    Said one placebo-obsessed jerk.

    So I just sit around

    without feelings profound

    and my child-care duties I shirk.

    Sylvia Browne is a quack

    lower-intellects she likes to attack

    She often tells lies

    and makes many cry…

    while cold-reading them, in the sack.

    Dr. Meloy has ruined my life,

    for I can no longer pleasure my wife.

    For in her, a box

    which gives g-spot shocks

    and has caused my poor penor such strife.

    I think about boys way too much

    and I saw my ex-gay shrink about such

    “wanking has made you gay”

    the man did relay

    While offering me a “healing touch”.

    Can I keep going, or is there a limit to submissions? If so, the last one is my fave!

  2. There once was a woman called Browne

    A most hag-like, chain-smoking clown

    Though she'd call you "honey"

    She'd take all your money,

    "Predict" bullshit and then skip town!

    John Edward, you talk to the dead

    And relay to us things that they've said

    "I'm getting a 'G'

    Or was that a 'D'?"

    Or, maybe, it's all in your head

  3. Hate to do another John Edward limerick right after expatria, but…

    John Edward claims to speak to the dead.

    In so doing he brings in much bread.

    He thinks he's a saint, but Matt and Trey knew he ain't.

    So he was voted biggest douche in the universe instead.

  4. A skepchick's hot sideways look

    Makes my divining rod crave her moist nook.

    Forget Dr Who

    When it's me she could screw.

    It's more fun than copywriting a book.

    You don't need an orgasmatron

    I'll treat you to a tasty Bon Bon.

    You'll know a heavenly fate

    As I levitate

    And give you something to ride on.

  5. There once was a blog for the scoffer.

    (A drink by Elyse did it offer)

    Created by Rebecca

    It became quite a Mecca.

    For anti-woo’ish opinions to proffer.

    (Can't resist a ryhming challenge!)

  6. Geller performs without any malice, see
    But watch his hands he is really quite tricksy
    It’s all slight of hand
    but he’s in big demand
    Perhaps he’s the biggest logical phallus-y

    …or perhaps more straight forward…

    Geller performs the same ole’ shtick
    Just watch his hands to see the trick
    It’s all slight of hand
    but he’s in big demand
    Seriously he’s just a big dick

    …humorous and strict five-line form…

  7. OK, one more.

    “Evolution ain’t right!” says the fundy.

    Or, that’s what they preach every Sund’y.

    “My uncle’s no monkey!”

    (“though he is kind of hunky…”)

    “Thank God!” say the chimps in Burundi.

  8. “Evolution ain’t right!” says the fundy.

    Or, that’s what they preach every Sund’y.

    “My uncle’s no monkey!”

    (“though he is kind of hunky…”)

    “Thank God!” say the chimps in Burundi.

    This might be my fave so far . . . clever rhyme and a very close scan!

    Though obviously any limerick about me will get top consideration…

  9. There once was a man from Tejax,

    Who could not come to climax

    Scientology wise,

    Increased 'is personal size,

    And stabbed himself right in the thorax!

    Sylvia Browne is so full of such crap

    That if you gave her a big slap

    her head would explode

    and the stuff of commode

    would cover you with a big "Thwaap!"

  10. JOHNEA13-

    You certainly have a thing for pairing Rebecca and desserts! How avant garde; most people just pair her with drinks.

    and this:

    There once was a fraud named Van Praagh,

    And another named Sylvia, that hag!

    Both claimed Hornbeck dead,

    “Found Alive!” headlines said,

    Guess the spirits kept the cat in the bag…

    I love rhyming Praagh with hag!

  11. One more, in honor of Rebecca's Amazing Meeting party…

    There once was a skepchick named Rebecca

    The Amazing Meeting in Las Vegas was her Mecca

    She threw legendary parties

    Attended largely by smarties

    The next morning all anyone could say was “my head…uhhhh.”

  12. A skep chick by the name of Wat son

    Sat on a booze filled orgasma tron

    She said with a grin

    as she sipped her gin

    I may be smart but I sure have some fun.

    A guy by the name N Oh Two

    Didn't like the sky Oh so blue

    So he let out a moan

    Turned into Oh Oh Zone

    So he could screw both me and you too.

  13. This contest seems to have sent

    The readers on a poetical bent

    Now the skeptics are rhyming

    With meter and timing

    In the fashion that good lim'ricks are meant

    So as a poster I'm wondering this

    Can I join in the skeptical bliss

    And add my own verse

    To vie for the purse

    Or am I doomed to the inelligible abyss

  14. I once heard a tale that my friend

    Was abducted by little green men

    They probed up his ass

    to obtain methane gas

    On which their warp engines depend.

    It's silly, but I must admit

    The "facts" of his tale seem to fit

    It's a matter of course

    That my friend's a resource

    Since he's full to his eyebrows with shit.

  15. "dannyness // Mar 3, 2008 at 4:45 pm

    I once heard a tale that my friend

    Was abducted by little green men

    They probed up his ass

    to obtain methane gas

    On which their warp engines depend"

    Oh goodness that made me laugh so hard I snorted. well done.

  16. Watson had Holmes for repartee and deduction

    But Skep-chick Rebecca pines for seduction

    Whether from fruity tropical drinks of rum,

    Or a wickedly convoluted mathematical sum

    But mostly men by philosophical reduction

  17. With a divining rod Bob was rich and Handy
    Those in need paid and proclaimed him Dandy
    One day dousing for water he grabbed a hold of his dick
    The crowd proclaimed Bob a fraud and a little bit sick
    After a smart young lad knew to call the Amazing Randy

  18. If Rebecca were a course I could eat ,

    It'd be dessert because she's just oh so sweet.

    Served a la carte

    I'd eat every part

    'cept those darned stinky feet.

    [Just teasing, Just teasing! Oh well there goes any chance of me winning. Too late to substitute:

    "I admire her great feat after feat" as the last line?]

  19. Homeopathy's power's reputed

    To be far past what can be computed.

    What makes them so smart,

    They practice this art?

    Well, their minds are all highly diluted.

    In Roswell, the aliens impacted,

    Then gov'ment conspiracies enacted.

    They lied; so uncouth.

    But I know the truth!


    "Don't high-hat the monkey," she said

    While trying to mess with my head.

    She says, "There's no god,

    Theology's flawed.

    Live this life and love it instead."

    Rebecca's a skepchick sincere

    And she has a mission most dear:

    Spread critical thinking

    Keep this world from sinking

    'Neath piles of poor judgment and fear.

  20. What attracts the testosterone lot

    seems ubiquitous but it is not.

    Face? Legs? Chest? Or behind?

    I prefer a strong mind:

    Skepchicks are totally hot.

    There once was a man from Nantucket

    Who on 'healing' spent many a ducat.

    Of his costs, he would bawl

    "Homoeopathy's small!"

    A literal drop in the bucket.

    A deluded researcher named Radin

    Sees his bed as a place to get laid in.

    "Hey, sweetheart, come round

    to my psychic hound!"

    Suddenly his appeal is fadin'.

  21. Sorry, sorry, sorry! But I just realized parts don't scan right, and it's driving me crazy! For the last time…

    Slick pics of Skepchicks she picks through

    Sexy shots, super hot, she does view

    Whether raunchy or not

    For a calendar spot

    It's Rebecca's eye entrants must woo

  22. On Conspiracy Theorists…

    There was a conspiracy nut
    Who’s convictions confused him somewhat
    Any which way he turned
    A conspiracy burned
    Thus he spun, with his head up his butt

    The conspiracy nut had a friend
    Who would ally with him till the end
    An absurdity claimed
    Would be sited and named
    Room for two, derriere? (See a trend?)

    Conspiracy lovers abound
    Look for one – find a hundred around
    G.I tracts are impacted
    Not a head is extracted
    Yet conspirators never are found

    Anomalies are bread and butter
    To conspiracy nuts and to other
    Ghost-hunting kooks
    Who claim they find spooks
    In each bright spot they snap with a shutter

    But anomaly hunters don’t care
    About facts even if made aware
    That the points they thought strong
    Are just out-and-out wrong
    “All the experts Big Brother ensnares!”

    So when faced with a rabid baboon
    Crying, “We never went to the moon!”
    These hicks, dicks, and pricks
    Evolution with fix
    And it just cannot happen too soon!

    I wrote that one afternoon a few months ago.

  23. I once knew a Skep-chick from Nantucket
    Whenever she spotted woo she’d pluck it
    Proclaiming success with a grin
    She poured a cold tonic-n-gin
    Telling the cranks and believers to go…

  24. Since the challenge to rhyme with ‘Rebecca’ was given, that’s the rhyme scheme that popped up in my when I read this month’s task.

    Once slurred by a girl named Rebecca
    (far hipper than those in TriBeCa),
    ‘Be it pseudoscience or woo,
    I say none of it’s true!’
    And she chugged down some more Triple Sec-ah.

    The alternate ending is ‘I don’t believe it, not even a speck-a,’ but limericks are supposed to be a bawdy, so I went for the liquor.

  25. Wow, I came up with that same rhyme for Rebecca independently. So here goes:

    There once was a gal named Rebecca
    Who saw a strange sight in Tribeca:
    A face in some burnt bread
    Looked Christ-like — but she said
    “If that’s Jesus, I’ll move to Mecca.”

  26. A guy named JOHNEA13
    Wrote limericks always quite clean.
    Great in the clinches
    With his mighty 12 inches
    What a sight to be seen.
    [All-right , All-right since you all are a bunch of skeptics I’ll admit I’m lying ………….
    my limericks are not always clean.]

  27. In honor/dishonor of St. Paddy’s Day…

    ’twas once an old quack from kilkenny
    who’d tell stale old tales for a penny
    of a green ufo and a slimy green foe
    but after you’d paid there weren’t any

    I know, I know. No autographs please…

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