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  • Anonymous
      Post count: 93172

      There’s currently an illness called Graves,
      That makes all its sufferers rave,
      They give you some pills
      To cure all your ills,
      But you still feel you’re living in a haze!


        Post count: 93172

        Hi all,

        Limericks are a great way to celebrate the return of the Board!
        Here’s my small offering:

        I wish this Graves’ business were done–
        It certainly isn’t much fun.
        First PTU pleasures,
        Then RAI measures,
        Now it’s hyper and hypo in one!


          Post count: 93172

          Good one!!!

          Lets see more folks


            Post count: 93172

            Now we are on the track!!


            Come on all you frustrated poets!!!

            Send them in and cause us to Grin!!!


              Post count: 93172

              OK You warriors and frustrated poets,

              We have a limerick contest going on and I have extended it until the end of October since we have had some server problems.

              The rules are

              1. keep it clean (none of that old man of Nantucket stuff)
              2. A panel of five judges will make the decision and it will be final
              3. Have fun with it.

              Next time you sign on ask for the past 30 days of posts and you will see a number of entries. You may e-mail them to me at if you wish. The winner will receive a hand made indian choker made by my self!!

              I have also received some info that Baush and Lomb will throw something into the prize pot as well.

              The judges for this contest are:

              Dr. Nancy Patterson (our director)

              Archie Hensley (the guy who owns and our hero)

              John Stewart (Baush and Lomb, big kahona)

              Monica Voll (Baush and Lomg, big kahonaette)

              Pat Anika (Editor and chief of the NGDF news letter)

              Winning entry will be put into the newsletter as may many honorable mentions.

              Get out there and wax poetically and have fun.

              prize maker and contest running Kahuna

                Post count: 93172

                There is this disease named after a man named Grave. :
                Once diagnosed it takes a while to behave. :
                You start to get jittery. :
                Some report going into a fittery. :
                At times you may want to slip into a canyon. :
                But you come top realize it will be your long life companion:>):


                  Post count: 93172

                  A slew of limericks for your consideration … we got carried away.

                  There once was a man whose self-image,
                  Was spoiled by his eye-popping visage,
                  Now his eyes will not close,
                  They now surpass his nose,
                  What a thyroidal, sad rite of passage.

                  We’ve heard of a lad from St. Pete,
                  With a case of the itchiest feet,
                  Seems his thyroid malfunctions,
                  And no anti-itch unctions,
                  Will stave off that sole-scorching heat.

                  There once was a man from St. Clair,
                  Who lamented his thinning hair,
                  No amount of Rogaine,
                  Could extinguish his pain,
                  With his thyroid in need of repair.

                  There once once a man with eyes poppin’
                  It seems there was no way of stoppin’,
                  His Graves’-stricken eyes,
                  And those anguishing cries,
                  Even though he is PTU-poppin’.

                  There’s a tale of a woman we’re told,
                  Who’s body has never been cold,
                  For no matter the season,
                  For whatever reason,
                  Her thyroid cannot be controlled.

                  “Your thyroid is no laughing matter.”
                  Said the girl who just could not get fatter.
                  “It’s not that I don’t eat,
                  And please turn down the heat,
                  If the first’s not enough, there’s the latter.”

                  There once was a man named Pirelli,
                  But everyone knew him as “Smelly”.
                  Some say that the source,
                  Of his olfactory force,
                  Was his Graves’ Disease optical jelly.

                  A man named Big Joe was reactive,
                  From the choice that he called quite proactive,
                  “I’m sick of these lies,
                  ‘Bout my oversized eyes.
                  So now I’ve gone radioactive.”

                  There’s a woman whose Graves’ is revealing,
                  When asleep, there’s an eye-op’ning feeling,
                  “It’s not easy for me,
                  When I’m sleeping I see,
                  And I dream of the holes in the ceiling.”

                  A lady who hails from Down Under,
                  Is a living and breathing Graves’ wonder.
                  For it isn’t her eyes,
                  That seem twice the right size,
                  And her husband is thrilled by this blunder.

                  Old Ernie was getting quite thin,
                  And itching had revaged his skin,
                  After 30 blood tests,
                  The results all suggest,
                  Some disorder named Graves did him in.

                  RAI I would rather avoid,
                  I don’t want to have MY gland destroyed,
                  So I’ll pop PTU,
                  Just a hundred or two,
                  If it means I can keep this here ‘roid.

                  There once was a man from Toledo,
                  Who went by the first name of Guido.
                  Could it be PTU,
                  Too many, too few,
                  That was robbing poor Guido’s libido?

                  This Graves’ is a nasty disease,
                  And I’ve had quite enough, if you please,
                  Like it isn’t enough,
                  To have all this Graves’ stuff,
                  Now I’ve also acquired doctors’ fees.

                  The thyroid’s one interesting gland,
                  Watch your body obey its command,
                  It can make you irate,
                  It can make you lose weight,
                  And I think that it’s time Graves’ is banned.

                  Limerick’s somewhere in Britain,
                  And not some lame poem that I’ve written,
                  But I’ll play your game,
                  Though I must exclaim,
                  It’s with Graves’, not with rhyme, I’ve been smitten.

                  I’ve recently come to surmise,
                  That these things have inordinate size,
                  My endo’s prognosis,
                  I’ve got this proptosis,
                  It’s got something to do with my eyes.

                  We’ve heard of a lad far away,
                  Who’d go off in a rage every day,
                  It seems his thyroid gland,
                  Always had upper hand,
                  Till RAI swept it away.

                  There once was a man in a state
                  Of despair, and his suff’ring was great.
                  You’d think he’d have known,
                  With that goiter full-grown,
                  ‘Twas his thyroid, not something he ate.

                  There once was a man from Peru,
                  With eyes bulging wide, what to do?
                  The protrusion was found,
                  To be thyroid unsound,
                  It’s amazing what one gland can do.

                  Just who is this stupid Graves gent?
                  You ask me, it was no accident,
                  I just hope that I meet,
                  Dr. Graves on dark street,
                  What a stupid disease to invent!

                  There once was a man from Peking,
                  Whose mood like a pendulum’d swing,
                  His ranting and raves,
                  Was found to be Graves’,
                  His demeanor has now lost its sting.

                    Post count: 93172

                    HELP ME … I’M RHYMING AND I CAN’T SHUT UP!!!

                    There’s a man with some titanic eyes,
                    And they seem to continue to rise.
                    His endo says Graves’,
                    Ebbs and flows like the waves,
                    Till remission inhibits their size.

                    All day long Bill would mutter #$&@#@$*,
                    He was one nasty son of a #$@%&$,
                    But his Graves’ made him swear,
                    That he wasn’t aware,
                    That his language now sounded like $##$*(#

                    Most diseases have names quite atrocious,
                    There’s a big name for each diagnosis,
                    So to what Latin word,
                    Is Graves’ also referred?
                    Must be “pain-in-the-eye-stabbin-osis”.

                    I’ve a friend who’s a native Detroiter,
                    With the world’s largest, Graves’-induced goiter,
                    They all stop and stare,
                    They aren’t even aware,
                    How subconscious he feels while they loiter.

                    There once was a man from Bear Lake,
                    Who found that his hands always shake,
                    He just thought that he’d wean,
                    Himself off of caffeine,
                    But ’twas Graves’ that was making him quake.

                      Post count: 93172

                      ROFLMAO!!! These were really good! No idea if there will be a limit of entries or not! Jake has quizzed Archie on it , I believe. Jake?


                        Post count: 93172

                        OK folks the first batch of limericks have been sent off to the judges. The only comment so far (once I could send them in a format that all the judges could read)was Nancy and Pat wanted cool names like the rest of us.

                        So the Judges are:

                        Dr. Nancy Patterson (Director of NGDF and The Grand Wizard of Eyore)

                        Archie Hensley (Owner of and our hero)

                        John Stewart (Bausch and Lomb big kahona)

                        Monica Voll (Bausch and Lomb Big Kahonaette)

                        Pat Anicka (Editor of NGDF newsletter and the Great Expunger)

                        So by “Executive order” from Nancy, her and Pat have cool names too!!

                        Jake (Achgook) Contest runner and prize maker kahona

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