Auld Lang 'stein

The night before Christmas and lo
the castle was buried in snow
A monster was stirring
as engines were purring
and lab machines started to glow

A bearded guy carried a sack
Not Santa, but Igor, hunch-back
His bag, full of brains
was covered with stains
from heads he had given a crack

As lightning continued to build
the doctor was tickled, then thrilled
He said, "It's alive!"
(I love Colin Clive)
and opened the bubbly he'd chilled

But Doc, who had wanted a son
would soon find his plans were undone
For Igor, the cad
used a brain that was bad
Though he and the monster had fun

On Christmas the cold castle air
was warmed by a torch's red glare
The monster, when singed
became quite unhinged...
and hung Ig by the chimney with care

Words and art © 2012 Hilary Barta; Color: Jason Millet

Not Even a Louse

'Twas the night before Christmas, '08
and Bush wasn't sleeping so great
What swirled in his head,
Iraqi war dead?
Or zero approval job rate?

Frigid O'Shaughnessy

I feel like a frozen fillet

and snowdrifts are blocking my way

I'm chilled to to the bone

so posts I'll postpone

I'll wait for a limerick sleigh

Nothing to Sneeze At

There once was a guy named Man Braxon

who owned things he never paid tax on

That son of a bitch

was so goddamn rich

he bought the nose off Michael Jackson



This concludes our unofficial Comic Book Week
here at Limerwrecks. The above panel is from the
feature Star Pirate in Planet Comics, possibly
drawn by Murphy Anderson.
You can find the entire story here

Thing Out

Through swampland and and backwater bog
they slip and they seep and they slog
Once man, now a thing
these heaps leave a ring
in sinks and in drains they're a clog

Rhyme of the Ancient Sub-Mariner

Prince Namor swam up from the deep

and fought to the last axis creep
This undersea royal
then fell for a goi-l
though she wasn't one of his peeps

One of comics' first anti-heroes, the Sub-Mariner
is a fascinating character. Sure, Prince Namor
fought the Nazis and the Japs, but he was at war
with all of the"surface-dwellers."

Human Torch Song

Come listen to my Human Torch song

That hothead can't sit on a porch long

Unlike normal guys

he can't fantasize

because he ends up with a scorched thong

Holy Batcavity!

The comics sell muscles and sex
in print and in your multiplex
Their Freudian fights
in skin hugging tights
pad coffers of boardroom execs

Id's Superman!

First doffing their civvies and specs
buff heroes flaunt muscles and flex
Then hot in pursuit
in cape and red suit
of villains with spandexy pecs

Don't Tread On Me

Addressing Iraqi press corps
the Pres dodged requests from the floor
Then ducking a pair
of flying footwear
he wished he had missed Iraq war

Slash and Spurn

I've no stomach for horror film tales
where entrails fill buckets and pails
When gore on the screen
vents literal spleens
my intestinal fortitude fails

Shop Till You Drop--Dead

A frenzy of holiday shopping
occurs when the prices start dropping
They bust down the doors
at discounted stoes
and trample to death without stopping



A Wal-Mart worker was trampled to death by a crazed
mob of shoppers on the post-Thanksgiving 'Black Friday'.
No doubt they were all doing their best to stimulate the
economy. Read about the story here

Red Hot Seat

Don't step in a bottomless pit
Its bottom you won't want to hit
Straight down you will drop and
your butt will not stop
until on hot lava you sit