OP216. What's tat?

A vibrant young vixen named Viv
Said "Tit for tat - that's how I live."
So I surmise that
She gets lots of tat
For everything she's got to give.

OP215. My farewell verse

In case you don't know it by now
I'm leaving, but I don't know how
To say it.  I'll try
I'm no good at goodbye
So in lieu of "adieu", I'll say "ciao!"

Relax, I'm not going anywhere.  But if I ever write a book of these, it'd be the perfect limerick to end on.  Also, it qualifies for this week's contest.

1853. Doing right from the left

Just a banjo, no need for a band
As the embers of justice he fanned
Folk music's more meager
Since losing Pete Seeger
He "hammered all over this land."

1852. My kind of Miss

At the movie she sure hadn't plannned
On the place where her right hand did land
It was dark, couldn't see,
Meant to just pat his knee
But she missed and gave strokes to his gland.

1851. Upstaging Reddekopp

We're saying 'goodbye' to the Pope
He chastised those bad priests who grope
Still, you'd better not cower
With one in the shower
And certainly, don't drop the soap!

Poster David Reddekopp is this blog's resident atheist and has written many limericks here that (deservedly) lambaste pederastic priests, the Westboro (Topeka) Baptist Church, and religious hypocrisy in general.

1850. Wop would you have done?

Three months ago I did allow
An Italian to fuck me, and how!
Just bumped into that Dago
And heard her say, "Prego"
I turned tail and ran yelling, "Ciao!"

Please forgive the racial slurs.  Not much else rhymes with 'prego,' which I wanted to use for the double entendre.

PD193-196. Borderline bawdy

There was a young woman named Pat
Who offered to do this or that
When speaking of 'this'
She meant more than a kiss
So imagine her meaning of 'that!'

In anything written by Dickens,
It's certain the plot always thickens;
With characters, themes
And digressions it teems;
As for sex, though, it's mighty slim pickin's.

Though his plan, when he gave her a buzz,
Was to do what man norm'ly does,
She declared, "I'm a Soul
Not a sexual goal!"
So he shrugged and called someone who was.

 You must get it up, to begin.
 Or else, you will not get it in.
 If you will allow
 I will just show you how:
 Keep your head down - and aim for the pin.

1849. The Big Boffer

A girl I know couldn't be purtier
But also, she couldn't be flirtier
She will fuck any cat
At the drop of a hat
Her behavior could hardly be dirtier.
I'm dating myself by using 'cat' to refer to a guy.  It went out of 'slang lang' about 1962.

1848. Lured like lemmings

Muslim millions head off to the Haj
In the crowd-crush there's no place to dodge
Why is it they trek a
Long way into Mecca
To die in a crazy hodge-podge?

1847. I'm readily redolent

Quoth The Bard, "Sorrow's sweet when we part"
Oscar Wilde said, "Life imitates art"
But despite all my culture
The smell brings a vulture
Whenever I cut a big fart.

1846. It's over.

Goodbye to the great Yogi Berra
He managed a ball diamond's terra
Firma like no one could
No buffoon, he was good!
His death brings an end to an era.

He will be remembered both for his "Yogi-isms" ('It ain't over 'til it's over', 'When you come to a fork in the road, take it', 'Nobody goes there anymore. It’s too crowded') and also for his sparkling playing career -- 3 MVPs, 10 World Series wins, 15 straight years as an All-Star.

One of my favorite Yogi stories claims that, during Spring Training, the Yankees were invited to a party hosted by a St. Petersburg social club.  A woman approached Yogi and said, "Mr. Berra, you certainly look cool in that seersucker suit."  Yogi replied, "Thank you ma'am.  You don't look too hot yourself."

OP214. A fairy tale ending

The gift that we gave her was grand
She no longer relied on her hand
On the sofa sat Alice
With vibrating phallus
And Alice was in Wonderland.

1845. "The Stud," "The Bitch," et al.

So long, R.I.P., Jackie Collins,
You wrote smut like a slut from New Awlins
But now that you've died
Guess I shouldn't deride,
You made millions by writin' of ballin's.

She died Sept. 19, 2015 of  breast cancer.

1843-1844. One hundred thirty-eight*

"Let's do like so many before us --
Suck my cock as I lick your clitoris
Then, after we've spent,
I will savor a mint
While you gargle and rinse with Lavoris."

Said she, "You're pronouncing it wrong --
I mean that nub under my thong.
I'll flavor my clitoris
With oils made of cit(uh)rus,
Tongue-flick it while I suck your dong."
* That's two 69's.

1842. A mashed potatoes must

When the roast's been removed from the pot
Pour in beef stock (but not a whole lot)
Sprinkle flour for a roux
Stir in salt, pepper too
Lick the spoon, say, "Good gravy!"  (Or not.)

OP213. The show won't go on

The star was upset, went berserk
She thought that her boss was a jerk
"Would Hannah Montana
Play second banana?"
Now Miley's on strike.  She won't twerk.

God, I hate that word...  Bit of a dated reference, but it makes the limerick work.

OP212. Not street smart

He humped her quite hard; never slowed
And later he let loose his load.
But then, they were struck
By an oncoming truck
They shouldn't have forked in the road.

OP211. A hump in the rump

My date was a bit of a plumper
No matter. She said I could pump her
Though some find it heinous
To fuck in the anus
I don't, so I drilled in her dumper.

1841. Conscientious objection

The bride's mom at a wedding reception
Said, "Let's fuck, I brought 'long contraception."
Now I rarely eschew
A gratuitous screw
But in that case, I made an exception.

1837-1840. A maze made of maize

Recently, Mad Kane's contest word was 'maze' or 'amaze' (or a homophone,)
It's summertime; I love to laze
By the pool on a plastic-strap chaise
Longue hours I oft lay there
With fat on display there
From gobbling Lays chips made of maize.

It's a known fact that horses can't graze
Whenever they're hooked up to shays
But once they're unbridled
You may find they've sidled
Right up to a manger of maize.

Drugged-up suspects ne'er cease to amaze
Even after police have to tase
Them to get them subdued
They're combative and rude
Acting crazed in a meth-induced daze.

When my old eyes upon a gal gaze
And I ask, "How about a few lays?"
Even if she says, "Yes,"
Once she's out of her dress
There's a diff'rence between 'cans' and 'mays.'

1836. A college boy's best friend*

A wealthy young frat boy named Biff
Relies wholly on Notes made by Cliff
Wasting no time for study
He found a fuck buddy
Who loves having Biff in her quiff.
*I bet you were thinking I meant "CliffsNotes."

1835. The secret's out

David Reddekopp -- you'll prob'ly think this lim is about you.
At a party Dave acted urbane
But it went against one woman's grain
He wore a cravat
In the shade 'apricot'
And it made Carly sing, "You're So Vain."

Click --->  Sorry Mick, et al.

1834. I've heard an alum douche also works

One old bag I know has an agenda;
Wants to tighten her saggy pudenda
Right now, each orgasm
Occurs in a chasm
Wide 'nuf to be walked by Wallenda!

OP210. Fairy dairy

This wasn't originally intended to be an acrostic, but I made it one because I could.

Peter picked a few pals of his ilk
Each had drinks, which went down smooth as silk
Not from cartons, of course
It was straight from the source
So, the beverage of choice?  Homo milk.

1833. Little toe, Big trouble

I suppose you have heard of Paul Bunyan
Did you know he once grew a large bunion?
It required seven whacks
To remove with his ax
Because it was the size of an onion.
Forgive my homophones ending L1 & L2.

1832. She named him 'Sirius'*

A gal bought a golden retriever
She found none of her friends would believe 'er
When she said, "It is true
I will not let him screw
Me but damn, can that doggie lick beaver!"
* He is her dog star.

1831. Can we go already?

Somehow it's become my sad lot
To live with a woman who's not
In the least bit decisive
I yell things derisive
Like, "Shit or get off o' the pot!"

1830. Mouth-organ music

A newlywed pair, James and Jan,
Figured pleasure was just for the man
Until one evening, Jim
Tongued her clit and her quim
And she came like so few women can.

OP209. More than I bargained for

A fifty to fuck, she would claim
My bulge she'd indulge 'til I came
I wish I'd known sooner
(To borrow from Spooner)
For nude, she's a dude, a sham dame.

1829. One-hit wonder?

Many pieces by Edward MacDowell
Cause discomfort way down in the bowel
But for "To a Wild Rose"
He'd have had no new clothes
And he might have just thrown in the towel.
I probably shouldn't pooh-pooh his other works for the piano.  It's just that I've never heard any of them!

1828. Anutter problem

True story.  Picture how skimpy basketball shorts used to be.
While competing in junior high hoops
My jock strap lost one of its loops
And while I'm not tree-length
'Twas long before knee-length
Shorts.  Out drooped my dong, I said, "Oops!"

Since those short shorts are often now referred to as "nutters," I intended my title to be read as "A nutter problem.  I suppose it could also be seen as "An utter problem" besides the punned-upon "Another."

1826-1827. Vein, vain, or vane at Kane

When you're having abdominal pain
Before cat-scan, you get dye in vein
This helps them to see
Why it hurts when you pee
And insures that you won't die in vain.

I stood on my roof in the rain
Showing off my Bean clothes made in Maine
Wife yelled, "This is fright'ning!
What if there's some lightning?
I cannot believe you're so vane."

1825. Annoy boy

Old joke:
Q. What's grey and comes in quarts?
A. An elephant.  
I know of a Jew who's named Jeter
He's no "short" stop -- this guy has a peter
That's, in a word, huge
And although he's a noodge
When he comes, he shoots more than a liter.

And another:
Q: Why do elephants have four feet?
A: They'd look ridiculous with 6 inches.

1824. Re: OP208 (below)

Dave pooh-poohed his vic'try, but shouldn't
Ninety vied for first prize but we couldn't
Out do him.  All zealots,
But Dave's take on prelates
Meant that, as for winning, we wouldn't.

Outstanding achievement, David Reddekopp!  I have been entering Mad Kane's Limerick-offs for at least a month longer than you and have yet to garner the top prize. 

You worked in some great alliteration in lines 3 and 5, and put both alliteration AND asonance into L2 with, "priest's not policed," but the overall story, rhyme, and that final word double entendre is, imo, what won it for you.  I'm humbled, yet proud at the same time, as I think of you as a former student.  You need no further help.  Congratulations!! 

OP208. Getting off

This verse won me the latest Limerick-Off at Mad Kane's site (a first for me).  I was as surprised as anyone.

To me, it won't cease to amaze
How a priest's not policed for his ways
When he buggers boys' butts?  
Reassignment. That's nuts!
And the priest, he still preaches, and preys.

1823. Let me potty (mouth) train you

It is possible that you've not heard
Of the French word for shit; it is merde
How int'resting that
Their expression for scat
Would seemingly rhyme with our 'turd.'
But it doesn't.  They pronounce it "maird."

1818-1821. English composers

Mad Kane's weekly "limerick-offs" have been providing me lots of fodder for the past 3 months, and much enjoyment.  Last week, her theme word was "dash" and the three best competitors - Adam Stern, Brian Allgar, and Will T. Laughlin - joined me in posting some ditties on Brit composers.  Most of those "extra added attractions" didn't have the 'dash' tie in, but Ms. Kane, a former concert oboist, approved and let us keep going.  Here are just a few, with mine in black print:

   A Brit for a bit (1901-1914)
Born Aussie, the great Percy Grainger
Sailed for Frankfurt, then London, what dainger!
He needn't ask pardons
For his Country Gardens
'Cause Lincolnshire Posy was strainger.

    Another Aussie ex-pat
Arthur Benjamin's Storm Cloud Cantata
Made Doris Day scream in vibrata
I should mention in passin'
She foiled an assassin
I guess if ya gotta, ya gotta.
"Storm" was the piece being played at Albert Hall in "The Man Who Knew Too Much."

Adam Stern's next one read,
Our survey is herewith appended:
Gerard Schurmann is most recommended.
His chamber and choral
Works yield rewards aural;
The six “Bacon Studies” are splendid.

My reply was,
I didn't know nuthin' of Schurmann
But I do know that old Bernard Herrmann
Wrote much music for Hitch
With dark leitmotifs which
Labeled characters who were the vermin.

Stern came back with this:
Further to Phil’s last (and even within the bounds of this week’s contest strictures!):
The assassin in question was brash
In assuming the cymbalist’s crash
Would conceal his foul crime,
But Day’s scream forced the slime-
Bag to flee (one might say: Nalder-dash!).
(The would-be assassin in Hitchcock’s 1956 remake of  “The Man Who Knew Too Much” was portrayed by Reggie Nalder.)

My final one mentions the march writer, Kenneth J. Alford.  Colonel Bogey gained fame as the one whistled by the prisoners in the movie, "Bridge on the River Kwai."
Alford wrote Colonel Bogey (not swill)
And Art Sullivan's songs bring a thrill
I'd try one on Handel
But can't hold a candel
To Adam and Brian and Will.

1817. Study in red

At a showing of art by Matisse
I picked up a girl named Denise
Though she's riding the rag
We're proceeding to shag --
I call her my period piece.

1816. Sweet swisher*

A queer's walk is so often prancy
With language and clothes that are fancy.
Add in flair for high fashion
And lust for males' passion,
No wonder he gets called a "Nancy."
*Swisher Sweets is a brand of cheap cigars, smoked by ?

1815. Tran man

A well-endowed fellow named Curt
Liked dressing in heels, blouse and skirt
He would romance the guys
But they'd see through his lies
For his dick hung down, dragging the dirt.