Top Ten Tuesday: Top 10 Beer Limericks

Today is National Limerick Day, which commemorates the birthday of Edward Lear. Lear wrote the Book of Nonsense, one of the earliest collections of limerick poetry and with it and later works he’s the person who probably did more to popularize the form than anyone else. Here’s one by Lear where he mentions beer.

There was an Old Man with an owl,
Who continued to bother and howl;
He sate on a rail,
And imbibed bitter ale,
Which refreshed that Old Man and his owl.

          — Edward Lear, Book of Nonsense #98

So for my 16th Top 10 list I present the Top 10 beer limericks, although the rankings are pretty much meaningless. These are just my ten favorite limericks that are about beer or drinking. I sort of prefer number 1 to number 5 or 7, but not to the degree of some of the previous lists. They’re all winners. But, of course, I’d love to hear your choices. Anyway, here’s List #16:
 

Top 10 Beer Limericks
 

	A Girl Named Anheuser There once was a girl named Anheuser, who said that no man could surprise her. But Pabst took a chance, found the Schlitz in her pants, and now she is sadder Budweiser.
	A Salty Tear One day my mouth felt so dry And I thought I was about to die. Then I saw the word “Beer”, And one salty tear Of happiness escaped from my eye.
	Ye Olde English Ale All hail to Ye Olde English Ale; Ye porter, ye bitter, ye pale. With flavours that linger, Like old Bishop’s Finger, They ain’t for the weak or the frail.
	Deliciously Wonderful Beer by RGiskard What is hoppy and brings us good cheer? Not a froggy, I promise, my dear! It’s brown, black and tan, And can come in a can. It’s deliciously wonderful beer!
	Pity the Innkeeper’s Plight Oh pity the innkeeper’s plight When his customers, night after night, Order only pale brew And brown ale eschew — For his dark is much worse than his lite.
	You Get What You Pay For It’s true what the say about ale, When it has grown quite stale. It smells like a skunk, But still gets you drunk; I guess that’s why this was on sale.
	The Monks of Manuller Some merry old monks of Manuller, Found life was becoming much duller. They brewed a fine ale In a massive big pail, And they found their lives were much fuller.
	Slow Drowning A brewery worker named Lee Drowned in a vat of brewski. I regretfully say He’d not drowned right away; He climbed out five time just to pee.
	Hard Head Fred A brewery worker named Fred Had a barrel fall onto his head. “Weren’t you hurt?” I did ask, “Being hit by that cask?” “I was lucky — ’twas light ale,” he said.
	What Is It? What is to our hearts so dear? What makes the whole world cheer? What is it we praise In millions of ways — Could it be a thing other than Beer?!

As usual, it was pretty hard to keep the list to ten, and a great many wonderful poems didn’t make the cut. Here’s a few more that almost made it:

I Drink Therefore
One day a real man of good cheer
Asked Descartes if he’d like a beer.
What the man got
Was ‘I think not’;
As he watched Descartes disappear.

Osiris
What made the Egyptians revere
Osiris and claim he was peer
To the gods of the land
Was that, unlike that other band,
He’d instructed them how to make beer.

The Beer Cow
There was an old farmer named Lear,
Who possessed a fine cow that gave beer.
Budweiser or Schlitz,
Could be tapped from her teats,
And pretzels came out of the rear.

Abbey Ale by Nitelaf
Abbey ale’s what we brew here, we Trappists.
(We’re in Belgium, for all of you mappists.)
Strong and rich, full in body;
As sweet as a toddy.
I’m glad that we’re brewers, not frappists.

No Socks
A frustrated brewer named Jacques,
Drowned himself in a barrel of Bock.
Grieved his friends, “Sad, it’s true,
Though this flavor is new,
But the next batch, let’s take off his socks.”

Jack Spratt’s Wife
There was a young girl, Marie Spratt,
At work one day, fell in a vat.
Before she was dragged out
She had drunk so much stout,
That her parts that were thin, became fat.

June 2nd by Tim Alborn
As from Monday, the second of June,
When the clock in my bedroom says noon,
I will stop drinking beer
For the rest of the year
(Or until I go near a saloon).

The Foam Ranger
A young lad named Armisted Auger,
Favored copious foam on his lager.
To the barmaid he said,
“Give me plenty of head,”
So she karated his schwagger.

Send me your favorite beer limericks by posting it in a comment.

Also, if you have any ideas for future Top 10 lists you’d like to see, drop me a line.