It’s Sunday morning, and I am still working on recovering from a very small taste of a yellowish drink called absinthe.  A small amount left me slightly fuzzy-heading for  panel on philosophy which (luckily) had some very capable members.  On the other hand, it’s possible my fuzzy head was caused by the limerick panel I moderated at 10:00 PM. Here are a few of the limericks created by the collective minds of three tired panelists and a handful of audience members:
 There’s a small lunar crater called Hell
Into which an astronaut fell
It was all full of dust
So his space suit got mussed
And the vacuum smothered his yell
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A genius named Arthur C. Clarke
Took a stroll through a Sri Lankan park
I joined him for tea
To his very great glee
I hung on his every remark
The others are slightly raunchier in general, so I’ll let them to your imagination.
In other good news, Lou Anders won a Chesley, and was quite excited about it. He’s done a nice job with his line at Pyr and its good to see his success.
Tonight will be the Hugo awards, and so we will all get to dress up and root for our friends and favorite writers.
These are not the final versions with cleaned-up scansion. (I’m not surprised, BTW, as new ones were coming thick and fast – in fact I’m impressed that you managed to get ’em down at all.)
James – fellow panelist
There’s a small lunar crater called Hell
Into which a poor astronaut fell.
It was all full of dust
So his space suit got mussed
And the vacuum smothered his yell.
A genius, Arthur C. Clarke,
Took a stroll through a Sri Lankan park.
I joined him for tea
To his very great glee
When I hung on his every remark.