While I’m on the subject of limericks, I’ve thought about one my grandmother taught me. (You know the Dvorak song “Songs My Grandmother Taught Me”?)

There once was a girl from St. Paul Who went to the birth-control ball. She bought all the devices At exorbitant prices, And nobody asked her at all.

According to George Bernard Shaw, there are two kinds of limerick: dirty and bad. He was wrong about that, along with so much else.

P.S. This is surely a good time to talk about St. Paul. But maybe it’s a less good time to talk about birth control? Dunno.