Her mobile phone's ringer'd gone dumb.
Unnoticed, 'twould vibrate and hum.
So she put it in front
alongside her cunt.
Now whenever she's called, she will come.
The muscle-bound, chiseled Aleutian
could flex with superb execution,
but parts 'neath his belt
exposed when he knelt
were otherwise quite Lilliputian.
When notes for her lecture were slim, Prof
Laura would not cry nor wimp'r. Off
course she would go
yet on with the show
and draw from her background in improv.
Whilst browsing 'mongst hypertext'd curios
'bandoned wherever such vexed slurry goes
I (re)-stumbled 'cross this rhyming site,
Where we'd often by 'ssignment write,
"Limericks". More like wrecked hurried "prose".
Trying as hard as I might
I can't get this limerick right.
The rhyming is forced
but the punchline's the worst.
If it weren't for that this rhyme would be tight.
God said "Don't eat fruit from the tree
of knowledge of G and of E".
But Eve was persuaded
by Serpent and ate it,
not knowing how mad God would be.
Then Eve, having thus disobeyed
The Lord, she led Adam astray.
For defying His one wish
God vowed he would punish
all humans 'til the end of days.
Bob's vasectomy? - a troubling endeavor
(one he shall not repeat - not ever!).
For, against his preference,
his poor old vas deferens
was less than skillfully severed.
The Limericist laid down his weary head,
His punctuation challenges myriad:
Instead of an ',
He'd mistakenly crossed a "V",
Then dotted all his "T"'s with a .
The number of beats in each line
is critical. So is the rhyme.
The content and such
don't matter so much
as long as it's funny.
In a feat of loopy design
I composed the previous line
then, continuing, wrote
the following: "
I composed the previous line [...]"
More often than not I’m not here
writing limericks – I’d rather steer clear.
It’s my scant contribution,
my infrequent execution,
makes me think that I’ll not persevere.
There once was a gal from Vancouver
who sucked out her twat with a Hoover
then pushed it back in
with a bottle of gin
left o'er from a previous maneuver.
There once was a gal from Vancouver
who sucked out her twat with a Hoover,
for years of abuse
had so damaged her cooze
that anything less failed to move her.
With a shriek, wisp’d and rotted mast to keel,
Loomed the ghost ship of Captain O’Neill.
As it neared, came about
From the gloom came a shout:
“We shall board ye, but first must congeal.”
Lamb stew makes an awfully good meal.
But, left out, will lose its appeal.
but spoilage is abated
if it's refrigerated.
Just beware - it tends to congeal.
He approached her with guile and with zest,
intent on committing incest.
She, at first, was evasive.
But he was so persuasive
that finally she acquiesced.
Maw ‘n’ Paw had the same folks I guess,
But ‘round here, we don’t call it incest.
I call Paw ‘Uncle Joe,”
Sometimes Maw is Aunt Flo,
But never in front of the guests.
Whilst feeling existentially sensitive,
With a sigh R. Descartes waxed plain-tive:
“If I’d had but a thought,
I’d avoid being naught-
So I’ll think, then I’d be, and so hence I’d live!”
He, in a thick cloud of incense, said "If
Mom's nose were a bit less sensitive
less time would be spent
on masking the scent
and more would be free for to tend the spliff".
A man-about-town in old Dublin
One dark night encountered a goblin.
"You have sinned now, you know,
"So with me you must go--"
"Yerra, sure", Pat replied--
"To the pub, man?"
(Guest authored by Peter)
Having run out of thread during surgery,
in order that he might get closure he
substituted for thread
some hair off his head.
Now whiskers appear where the scar should be.
The infidel wondered out loud
if God really lives in the clouds.
And for his slight heresy
was strung from the nearest tree,
for doubting Him was disallowed.
If one sits much too long in one's seat
one finds that one's meat can turn sweet.
Denied exercise
or a shake of the thighs
you will find both your feet obsolete.
Poor Madeline Millicent Rice,
whilst skating, dropped her hat near thin ice.
Feeling light on her toes,
she cut towards the chapeau
But the floe couldn't handle the slice.
The friar issued a behest
That the natives abandon incest
But the natives inquired
Why the friar had sired
A child with his sister Celeste
The stripper entered the surreal
when her new dance, she revealed.
The fetishist crooned
when she showed him her wound
whose scab had begun to congeal.
A Catholic school girl who loved hosiery
had trouble buying socks, for her toes were three.
Yet she'd shop as she pleased
if not for her knees,
disfigured, as they were, by the Rosary.
(co-authored by Lori)
Hugo, Monique, and Olivia
Were enjoying a brisk night of trivia
but then in round four
the theme, to their horror
was "classic pop songs of Bolivia"
When desire is finally met,
one's happy to’ve quenched it, and yet
a short while later
it returns still greater.
Now what, in the end, is the net?
