There once was a husband named Griffin
Whose spouse he was constantly miffin'
For when chores would abound
He was never around
But could always be found when he'd stiffen.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Monday, January 12, 2015
1580. Oregon just won the coin toss
The Ducks and the Bucks are in Dallas
To play for the Champions' Chalice
They just took the field
All eyes are now peeled
To see which team can show the most malice.
The Univ. of Oregon Ducks are about to battle the Ohio State Univ. Buckeyes for the National Championship of American college football.
To play for the Champions' Chalice
They just took the field
All eyes are now peeled
To see which team can show the most malice.
The Univ. of Oregon Ducks are about to battle the Ohio State Univ. Buckeyes for the National Championship of American college football.
1579. Lovers lain
Two teens (overcome by their passion)
Climbed in the back seat, began thrashin'
A cop came along,
Saw her snatch 'round his dong
And proceeded to give a tongue lashin'.
Climbed in the back seat, began thrashin'
A cop came along,
Saw her snatch 'round his dong
And proceeded to give a tongue lashin'.
Sunday, January 11, 2015
1578. Gagging Fag
A gigolo known as Big Luke
Had a johnson the size of a cuke
When a homo named Reggie
Would order this veggie
Luke filled up his throat 'til he'd puke.
Had a johnson the size of a cuke
When a homo named Reggie
Would order this veggie
Luke filled up his throat 'til he'd puke.
Saturday, January 10, 2015
1577. Piranha from Tirana
A wastrel named Walt from Gibraltar
Claimed he'd never be dragged to the altar
But then an Albanian
Mediterranean
Woman caused Walter to falter.
Claimed he'd never be dragged to the altar
But then an Albanian
Mediterranean
Woman caused Walter to falter.
Friday, January 9, 2015
PD167-178. The Farter from Sparta
Here's my favorite multi-stanza limerick. That the author broke with anæpestic tri-meter in verses 7-8 doesn't even bother me any more.
There was a young fellow from Sparta,
A really magnificent farter,
On the strength of one bean
He'd fart God Save The Queen,
And Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.
He could vary, with proper persuasion,
His fart to suit any occasion.
He could fart like a flute,
Like a lark, like a lute,
This highly fartistic Caucasian.
This sparkling young farter from Sparta,
His fart for no money would barter.
He could roar from his rear
Any scene from Shakespeare,
Or Gilbert and Sullivan's Mikado.
He'd fart a gavotte for a starter,
And fizzle a fine serenata.
He could play on his anus
The Coriolanus:
Oof, boom, er-tum, tootle, yum tah-dah!
He was great in the Christmas Cantata,
He could double-stop fart the Toccata,
He'd boom from his ass
Bach's B-Minor Mass,
And in counterpoint, La Traviata.
Spurred on by a very high wager
With an envious German named Bager,
He'd proceeded to fart
The complete oboe part
Of a Haydn Octet in B-Major.
His repertoire ranged from classics to jazz,
He achieved new effects with bubbles of gas.
With a good dose of salts
He could whistle a waltz
Or swing it in razzamatazz.
His basso profundo with timbre so rare
He rendered quite often, with power to spare.
But his great work of art,
His fortissimo fart,
He saved for the March Militaire.
One day he was dared to perform
The William Tell Overture Storm,
But naught could dishearten
Our spirited Spartan,
For his fart was in wonderful form.
It went off in capital style,
And he farted it through with a smile,
Then, feeling quite jolly,
He tried the finale,
Blowing double-stopped farts all the while.
The selection was tough, I admit,
But it did not dismay him one bit,
Then, with ass thrown aloft
He suddenly coughed...
And collapsed in a shower of shit.
His bunghole was blown back to Sparta,
Where they buried the rest of our farter,
With a gravestone of turds
Inscribed with the words:
"To the Fine Art of Farting, a Martyr."
There was a young fellow from Sparta,
A really magnificent farter,
On the strength of one bean
He'd fart God Save The Queen,
And Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.
He could vary, with proper persuasion,
His fart to suit any occasion.
He could fart like a flute,
Like a lark, like a lute,
This highly fartistic Caucasian.
This sparkling young farter from Sparta,
His fart for no money would barter.
He could roar from his rear
Any scene from Shakespeare,
Or Gilbert and Sullivan's Mikado.
He'd fart a gavotte for a starter,
And fizzle a fine serenata.
He could play on his anus
The Coriolanus:
Oof, boom, er-tum, tootle, yum tah-dah!
He was great in the Christmas Cantata,
He could double-stop fart the Toccata,
He'd boom from his ass
Bach's B-Minor Mass,
And in counterpoint, La Traviata.
Spurred on by a very high wager
With an envious German named Bager,
He'd proceeded to fart
The complete oboe part
Of a Haydn Octet in B-Major.
His repertoire ranged from classics to jazz,
He achieved new effects with bubbles of gas.
With a good dose of salts
He could whistle a waltz
Or swing it in razzamatazz.
His basso profundo with timbre so rare
He rendered quite often, with power to spare.
But his great work of art,
His fortissimo fart,
He saved for the March Militaire.
One day he was dared to perform
The William Tell Overture Storm,
But naught could dishearten
Our spirited Spartan,
For his fart was in wonderful form.
It went off in capital style,
And he farted it through with a smile,
Then, feeling quite jolly,
He tried the finale,
Blowing double-stopped farts all the while.
The selection was tough, I admit,
But it did not dismay him one bit,
Then, with ass thrown aloft
He suddenly coughed...
And collapsed in a shower of shit.
His bunghole was blown back to Sparta,
Where they buried the rest of our farter,
With a gravestone of turds
Inscribed with the words:
"To the Fine Art of Farting, a Martyr."
Thursday, January 8, 2015
1576. Bilateral a'gleement
What a wonderful thing is the breast
There are two upon ev'ry girl's chest
And men need no talents
To see that this balance
Works best for a titty-fuck fest.
There are two upon ev'ry girl's chest
And men need no talents
To see that this balance
Works best for a titty-fuck fest.
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
1575. Spurious spokeswoman
I once knew a girl, Iris Gerson,
In name, an Hebraic-type person
But if she got pissed
All religions got dissed
And the world never heard such foul cursin'.
In name, an Hebraic-type person
But if she got pissed
All religions got dissed
And the world never heard such foul cursin'.
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
1574. Had she had a Transylvanian transfusion?
Mrs. Horowitz always grew paler
When Vladimir's pecker would nail 'er
Her blood needed plasma
But mainly, her asthma
Would make her beg, "Vlad, the inhaler!"
Wanda Horowitz was also the daughter of conductor Arturo Toscanini.
When Vladimir's pecker would nail 'er
Her blood needed plasma
But mainly, her asthma
Would make her beg, "Vlad, the inhaler!"
Wanda Horowitz was also the daughter of conductor Arturo Toscanini.
Monday, January 5, 2015
1573. Prairie prankster
Two black girls from U.S.A.O
To the town tattoo parlor did go
When the artist said, "pick a shade"
They knew they'd been Chickasha'd
For ebony ink wouldn't show.
The University of Science and Arts of Oklahoma, formerly Oklahoma College for Women, is a small co-educational school in Chickasha (say "shay" not "shaw.")
To the town tattoo parlor did go
When the artist said, "pick a shade"
They knew they'd been Chickasha'd
For ebony ink wouldn't show.
The University of Science and Arts of Oklahoma, formerly Oklahoma College for Women, is a small co-educational school in Chickasha (say "shay" not "shaw.")
Sunday, January 4, 2015
1572. Limited skill(et) set
There once was a sous chef named Davy
Who spent every day making gravy
He couldn't get out of it,
It caused him to shout of it,
"I roux the day I joined the navy."
Or maybe he was a rue chef...
Who spent every day making gravy
He couldn't get out of it,
It caused him to shout of it,
"I roux the day I joined the navy."
Or maybe he was a rue chef...
Saturday, January 3, 2015
OP161. Filled to the brim
The horniest whore on the firmament
Seeks a state of arousal that's permanent
She gets penetration
Until saturation
So each hole can fit no more sperm in it.
Seeks a state of arousal that's permanent
She gets penetration
Until saturation
So each hole can fit no more sperm in it.
1571. You're ghana go blind
When women from African lands
Don't cover their mammary glands
Boys from Juneau to Rio
Sneak National Geo
To bathroom and work with their hands.
Don't cover their mammary glands
Boys from Juneau to Rio
Sneak National Geo
To bathroom and work with their hands.
Friday, January 2, 2015
1570. Tongue in cheek?
There once was a lezzie named Lizzie
Whose nights with her mate were kept busy
Shedding bras, pants and stuff
Thus exposing each muff
And then licking of clits until dizzy.
Whose nights with her mate were kept busy
Shedding bras, pants and stuff
Thus exposing each muff
And then licking of clits until dizzy.
Thursday, January 1, 2015
1569. Syne-ing off
Two thousand fourteen is now past
I lived it right up 'til the last
My biggest complaint
Is the fact that I ain't
Seen a year disappear so damned fast.
And the older I grow, the faster they go... Anybody else feel as if someone has widened the neck of your hour glass?
I lived it right up 'til the last
My biggest complaint
Is the fact that I ain't
Seen a year disappear so damned fast.
And the older I grow, the faster they go... Anybody else feel as if someone has widened the neck of your hour glass?
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