Monday, January 08, 2007
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Some folks say limerick writing's a crime.
Or at best, a complete waste of one's time.
Though they're sometimes amusing,
often vile, or confusing.
They're the oldest known examples of rhyme.
Red Green once said, "Poems don't have to rhyme and they don't have to be dirty, but people seem to prefer them that way." I agree. So without further ado, here's some limericks.
There was a young lady from Cue,
Who filled her vagina with glue.
She said with a grin,
"If they will pay to get in,
They'll pay to get out of it too."
There was a young girl named Maxine,
Who found a new use for the bean.
As a vaginal bearing,
She found it long wearing,
And it varied her f*cking routine.
The prior of Dunstan St. Just,
Consumed with erotical lust,
Raped the Bishop's prize fowls,
Buggered four startled owls,
And a little green lizard, that bust.
Oh, pity the Duchess of Kent!
Her c*nt was so dreadfully bent,
The poor wench doth stammer,
"I need a sledgehammer
To pound a man into my vent."
A broken-own harlot named Tupps
Was heard to confess in her cups:
"The height of my folly
Was f*cking a collie-
But I got a nice price for the pups."