The limericks ...
A frustrated young man name of Hunt
Took his girl for a trip in a punt,
Thinking surely he must
At last sate his great lust,
But poor steering just gave them a shunt.
With his thoughts on all sorts of abuse
Patrick asked the good folk of Dunluce
If he brought his shillelagh
Along to their ceilidh
Would it get, did they think, any use?
· The good folk said yes, so Patrick took his shillelagh. The ruins of the Castle of Dunluce in County Antrim can still be seen today; of the town nothing remains.
There was a young lady from Frome
Who would pleasure herself with a broom:
When she pushed it in tight
And angled it right
She could come while she swept out her room.
An old maid phoned the desk and said, "Joe,
What's the noise from that room down below?"
"Oh, they're holding," he sighed,
"An Elk's Ball just inside."
"Well then, tell them," she said, "to let go!"
· Anon.
Said a rather promiscuous duck,
"With the drakes I just don't get no luck;
They approach me all slick
But then paddle off quick -
They can't seem to muster the pluck."
Said a fellow from near Daly's Cross,
"For the ladies I don't give a toss:
What does it for me
Is a really nice tree
With a hole in the trunk full of moss."
· Daly's Cross is a settlement in County Limerick, Ireland
A lady, mature, down in Oakham,
Paid a guy for a nice bit of pokem,
But the lad was a thief
And he stole her false teeth
Along with the glass where she'd soak 'em.
One frore gelid night on the staithe
Came two with a reave caught a-rathe;
To the void picaroon
They crowed, "Now, picayune,
Your day shall begin with a bathe!"
· The (not entirely successful) result of a challenge to write a limerick using only real English words which would nonetheless be incomprehensible to most readers.
"My back aches, my penis is sore,
I really can't screw any more:
I'm dripping with sweat,
You haven't come yet,
And - oh, no, it's a quarter to four!"
"In that case, I think you should know:
I wondered how far you could go;
Though I stifled my moans
And held back on groans
I came thirty times in a row!"
· The first is anon, the second mine.
To a Philosopher:
"Is it true that a chap named Descartes
Saw a new metaphysical start,
Or could it just be
That you, he and me
Are your dream, you deluded old fart?"
The Philosopher's Reply:
"Indeed it is all as you find:
Only down in the murk of my mind
Do we three exist;
And because I'm quite pissed
We talk rot, as I'm sure you've opined."
On the breasts of a barmaid at Yale
Are tattooed all the prices of ale,
And on her behind
For the sake of the blind
Are the same, but they're written in Braille.
· Original believed anon. I've seen many variations of this, often failing to scan properly. This is my own take on it.
A contortionist let her act slip
'til her agent said, "Look, get a grip,
If you find the Klein bottle
Too hard, well then, what'll
You charge for a Möbius strip?"
In an earthquake, the best thing to do
Is to set about having a screw:
When you're done, you can say
In a nonchalant way,
"May I ask, did the earth move for you?"
There was a young curate of Salisbury
Whose manners were quite halisbury-scalisbury
He would wander round Hampshire
Without any pampshire
Til the bishop compelled him to walisbury.
· Anon.
· In case you're puzzled, here's a hint: Sarum is an old name for Salisbury, and Hants is a common abbreviation for Hampshire.
There once was a vampire named Mabel
Whose periods were exceptionally stable;
By the light of the moon
With the aid of a spoon
She would drink herself under the table.
· Anon. Discovered on the wall of a lavatory in the Wyeside Arts Centre, Builth Wells, Wales.
Jack Horner sat down with a sigh
By a girl who was having a cry:
He slipped in his thumb
And made the girl come,
And he said, "What a good boy am I".
A whore, quite dyslexic, named Bet
Thought she'd drum up some trade on the net,
But gash, kcus and ckuf
Made her role sound so rough
That SM-ers are all she can get.
In Xanadu...?
Xanadu's too expensive for Khan:
He's at work on converting a barn;
But there's talk of a dome,
And of rivers that roam
Then drop down to an underground tarn.
A dome and some caves cut in ice,
Some rocks and a fountain sound nice;
But Alf - he's the chippie -
Says Khan is quite dippy:
It still can't be done at the price.
The way it might have been...
I knocked long 'fore he turned back the door lock:
"Afternoon", I quoth, touching my forelock,
But Sam wouldn't chat,
Said, "I've no time for that",
So I took meself back home to Porlock.
A shiftless young fellow of Kent
Had his wife lay the landlord for rent:
But as she grew older,
The landlord grew colder,
And now they live out in a tent.
· Anon.
There was a poor fellow from Crewe
Whose cock had receded from view,
On being asked why
He said with a sigh,
"I told her to suck, but she blew".
There once was a lad name of Nicholas
Who'd a habit both coarse and ridiculous;
He'd a rather large shaft
And though folk often laughed
He would thrust it deep down a cuniculus.
· In case cuniculus bamboozles you, it's a rabbit burrow or other underground passage.
There was a young man from Peru
Whose limericks stopped at line two.
· I came across the above, so I wrote this one:
There was a young man from Dundee
Whose limericks stopped at line three;
They were all very short.
· Then this:
There once was a quite dreadful bore
Whose limericks stopped at line four;
When asked why this was
He said, "Well, because "
A laddie who hailed from Dumfries
Used to massage his dickie with grease,
Til his mom and his pop
Made it plain that they'd chop
It right off if the lad didn't cease.
There was an old man had a hen;
He had her each night around ten,
And he said "What a fuck -
it's the way she goes ‘cluck’,
I just want her again and again."
A lassie from south Tipperary
Had a quim quite unusually scary;
It was lined with sharp teeth
And had talons beneath
That would reach out and grab the unwary.
. . . . .
I certainly didn't intend
That any of these should offend,
But if it were so
You'll be heartened to know
You've finally come to THE END!
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