And the limerick goes like this:
There was a blocked plane from Nantucket,
Whose wing's feathers were short, so don't pluck it.
They flapped them together, to avoid stormy weather,
But out of the clouds they said, "fuck it."
And the limerick goes like this:
There was a blocked plane from Nantucket,
Whose wing's feathers were short, so don't pluck it.
They flapped them together, to avoid stormy weather,
But out of the clouds they said, "fuck it."