limerick #44
(It is my great burden in life to be somewhat skilled at writing awful limericks. Such poetry is unpopular outside of public toilets, yet I am cursed to excel at it. Therefore.)
There once was a blonde mercenary
Who stood all imposing and scary.
She acted untoward
And talked to her sword
When grabbing all gold she could carry.
(Scribbled that when aboard a vehicle, but I forget which. Possibly a bus?)
Currently Reading: a crappy vampire romance, for some reason
Currently Listening: Angra - Hunters and Prey