 | A small bird with jet-black feathers and a crimson breast glides onto a nearby tree limb and perches close by as if to join the circle of conversation. "Look," Kilmer says with a laugh. "It's almost like Ireland. I mean, how could you conjure up leprechauns until you're in Ireland? Once you're there, it makes sense. You feel as though you've just seen something down low, like an elf. There's that same thing here -- it's kind of impish." Val Kilmer, Polo Magazine, 1999 |
The Legend of the Blanrney Stone
Thank you Kildareme and Valahari for the excellent work!
Limericks
Roses are red
Some tulips are black
A leprechaun told me that
Val loves me back!
There once was a boy who was hell bent
on proving he'd discovered the blueprint
on avoiding 8 to 5,
plus acquiring a ride,
and the girls, who paradoxically now trigger his best sprint!
There once was a lad, not incidental,
who made movies and was labeled temperamental.
Evoking atmospherics
distinctly stratospheric
was his brilliance, so forget about begging him
acquittal!
There once was a Laddie named Val,
Who made all of the Lassies hearts swell,
In Real Genius he was funny,
In The Saint he was a honey,
We'll be lined up to see Red Planet, without fail.
There once was a Southern Gent named Doc,
Whose dry wit was evident when he talked,
Kate was his lady,
But she was no daisy,
So when she showed her true colors, he walked.
There once was a young lad named Simon,
Who grew up to be a master of disguise-man,
He was a master thief,
Who turned over a new leaf,
For love... after Emma found him.
There once was an Irish lad named Patterson,
When in Africa, lions came after him,
He was no easy mark,
His bite was worse than his bark,
Now those lion hides reside in a museum.
There once was a rocker named Jim,
Whose physique in leather pants was quite trim,
He belted out songs,
And partied `till dawn,
While all the women lusted after him.
There once was a Capped Crusader,
Who chased villains and kept law and order,
The Riddler was clever,
But Chase was much better,
She wouldn't rest `till Batman had "caught" her.
There once were some lasses on safari
Led on a Quest by Valahari
They were tracking their man
But as Quick as he ran
he couldn't reach his oasis, the Kalahari!
A daring young lad from Tennessee,
For then still existed a wild woolly frontier
Now the success of his quest is quite hazy.
‘Cause Val’s fearless progenitor, we are told,
Yes! Feel that ghost walk over your grave!
Oh! To heavenly intervention our voices be raised,
fled the hills, no doubt singing with glee.
To head west was his plan
with a pick and a pan
to get rich was his scheme don’t you see?
to be tamed by heroic folks with no fear.
Forced to fight off the felons,
and fierce eagle talons!
Adventuring! A dangerous career!
Simply surviving was a victory, a daisy!
But one thing we do know,
is that he grew very old,
still feisty and lusty and crazy!
was engaged in panning for gold.
So very late took a wifey,
had a wee babe in diapies
when proud papa was 60 years old!
If no' for the last valiant effort Grandpa gave,
There would not be our Val,
Nor beloved Val pals,
Or any reason to pen limericks in his praise!
for the old prospector who made that last second save,
and Tho he be gone,
his legend lives on,
to be revered 'til the end of all days!
A South Sea's lad once wondered what was wrong,
Man and beast were not getting along,
The beasts would not continue to serve,
They thought Moreau had way to much nerve,
But Monty looked great in his sarong.
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