Wednesday filthy limerick

The yin to my poetic yang…

Friend of mine met a lass from Bermuda

He pursued, flowers, food, woo’d and screwed her

But within ’bout a week

Realised, quite the freak,

As she cried, strap-on lubed, “Let’s get ruder!”

Surprise!! Yet another one of these

Don’t go acting all surprised.

A good friend of mine took her new lover

Off to bed only there to discover

He was epileptic, and thrashed

During sex, how she splashed

Up the walls, on the floor and bed cover.

 

Oh those yummy dirty bits

A poem. About bits. Of stuff.

There are those who will dine

on fine foods and great wine

and who want just the finest of treats

But not me, no, no way

I’m quite proud when I say

Im a fan of the less refined meats

 

Give me Pies filled with heart

though it does make me fart

give me puddings of tripe, brains and balls

though it makes me quite gassy

I can still keep it classy

and with gravy for sure eat it all

 

Give me chicken arse flan

I’m not bothered with ham

give me dishes pile high with pig scrotum

I’ve this recipe for stew

with the balls of gnu

and some others, so good,  ‘cos I wrote ’em

 

Oh I cannot resist

the dark meats on my list

how i crave juicy brains, spine and liver

feed me pies filled with wings

of all high flying things

lick my lips in delight how I shiver

 

Dont cast doubt or dispute

nature’s leftover fruit

say ‘perhaps’ if your offered intestines

you might just take delight

at each savoury bite

as you wash it down with rich red house wines