Isn’t it great when bad things happen to terrible people.
This week my mind turns to revenge and perhaps, for that special someone who has slighted you and has now finds themselves in a pickle. Maybe you want to send them a nice card with a limerick expressing how sad you are that they have had such a lousy spell of bad luck.
Such a shame that you’ve lost all your cash
on the markets, who knew that they’d crash
I cant lend you some, no
and this just goes to show
just be careful with that kind of stash
photo courtesy of pixabay
Both serious and playful. The Japanese would not approve
The haiku, so proud, tight, formal. So little saying so much. Mostly though I like to defile them with the ridiculous. Oh, and I know they’re probably Senryu. I struggle with boundaries a bit.
Cruel winter winds
plays havoc with my nipples
Hey! Eyes are up here!
More stuff from my brain meat…
Charlie’s Journey – OWPC Challenge
Deep and insightfully insightfulnessnessHo
Isn’t it great when bad things happen to terrible people.
This week my mind turns to revenge and perhaps, for that special someone who has slighted you and has now finds themselves in a pickle. Maybe you want to send them a nice card with a limerick expressing how sad you are that they have had such a lousy spell of bad luck.
Heard your kids been excluded, the fool
broke the pesky no strong liquor rule
when young yours were devine
so much better than mine
as you said every time outside school
photo courtesy of pixabay
Both serious and playful. The Japanese would not approve
The haiku, so proud, tight, formal. So little saying so much. Mostly though I like to defile them with the ridiculous. Oh, and I know they’re probably Senryu. I struggle with boundaries a bit.
Horny teenager
eyes the vacuum eagerly
he wont…but he will
More stuff from my brain meat…
Charlie’s Journey – OWPC Challenge
Deep and insightfully insightfulnessnessHo
Isn’t it great when bad things happen to terrible people.
This week my mind turns to revenge and perhaps, for that special someone who has slighted you and has now finds themselves in a pickle. Maybe you want to send them a nice card with a limerick expressing how sad you are that they have had such a lousy spell of bad luck.
There once was a lovely young lad
found his missus in bed with her dad
said he “Babe it’s quite gross”
she replied “were just close”
that they never had kids he’s quite glad
photo courtesy of pixabay
Isn’t it great when bad things happen to terrible people.
This week my mind turns to revenge and perhaps, for that special someone who has slighted you and has now finds themselves in a pickle. Maybe you want to send them a nice card with a limerick expressing how sad you are that they have had such a lousy spell of bad luck.
Heard you’re no longer with John my ex
it tuns out he just used you for sex
you poor thing you must hurt
you’re just boobs in a skirt
loves young dream all now totally wrecked
photo courtesy of pixabay
limericks to make you roll your eyes and make tutting noises.
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
There once was a butcher named Chuck
would sell any old meat for a buck
he’d sell dachshunds as steak
sell you minced rat and steak
‘stead of chicken you’d get pigeon or duck
There once was a Baker call Ned
quite a perv, things he did with the bread
doughnut holes…yeah believe it
used his bits to achieve it
late at night he’d take croissants to bed
A fellow, a candlestick maker
had a wife who in bed was a faker
so he took to his bed
brought his work home instead
now quite easy for him to placate her
Not that I would. But if I had to.
People are forever musing on here aren’t they. You can’t swing a cat without encountering musings of one description of another.
Not that I would advocate swinging cats. I would not. I don’t even know where that saying comes from. Perhaps it was an old way of measuring things? Now again I repeat that I would not but if I were to swing an animal then it would probably be something a little more manageable like a tortoise or a guinea pig. Cats are notoriously averse to being swung and have far too many sharp and pointy bits to be buggering around with trying to work out how wide your living room is to see if your new sofa will fit.
If I absolutely had to know whether the new 3 piece would squeeze through the door then I would punt for a measuring tortoise. They are a bit short of purchase points though so it’s probably wise to put it in some sort of cloth sack to swing it thereby reducing the chance of losing one’s grip and sending the measuring tortoise soaring through a window. Last thing you want is glass all over and having to use something a little smaller to then measure the window so you can order new glass. If you were in need of measuring a window though, and again this is just hypothetical, then I reckon a squirrel would do the job. Red though not grey, the grey ones are a a bit feisty. If you cant get your hands on a squirrel then maybe try a hamster. A red squirrel is generally equal to 2 hamsters.
Just for reference the Tortoise in the picture above is equal to 7 red squirrels, so 14 hamsters. Or is that a turtle? Doesn’t matter they are pretty much interchangeable.
Oh and for those living in hot countries, do not use a lizard because we all know their tails fall off and the sight of the orphaned tail wriggling about will likely upset the kids. Unless of course you can get your hands on a chameleon they work really well as they move pretty slowly though can be a bugger to find once you’ve put them down. A friend of mine who lays carpets swears by chameleons but goes through two or three a month.
Not that I would though. What a ridiculous and rather cruel idea.
Besides, everybody knows the old fashioned way of measuring things was by swinging small soot faced children, recently emerged from cleaning chimneys or making smocks and bed caps.
Inappropriate and just a bit…meh
There once was a chap who loved cake
so much so that for sponges he’d ache
for panache he would pine
for gateau most sublime
fell in love with a lass who could bake
It’s saturday…not my best day for limericks.
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
I don’t have a dog called Caper – Daily prompt
Image courtesy of me
“You see that girl” he said looking over at a canary is a small cage on a dresser next to the window. “you see those vapour trails? That was me once.”
These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words only. I’m less strict about that now. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene.
Amos sat in the old rocker looking out across the open fields in front of the farm house. He watched wisps of clouds dancing across the sky and jet trails slowly dissolving into the blue and remembered a time, long ago now, when he was more than the frail old man now living out the last of his days watching the seasons pass from his window. Snippets of another life he was no longer sure were even his.
“You see that girl” he said looking over at a canary is a small cage on a dresser next to the window. “you see those vapour trails? That was me once.”
The small yellow bird cheeped almost as if in response.
His eyes weren’t what they once were but he could still make out the feint outline of the city in the distance and he watched as shuttles, from this distance mere specks, took off and headed upwards towards the east pacific low orbit station.
There was a flash of silver as the sun caught the side of a large long haul transporter rising slowly upwards and he remembered, not at all fondly, the early days long before anti-grav when they had to strap you to a rocket just to get you into orbit.
He didn’t miss the take offs but he each landing was fresh in his mind as the day he had made them
“Good times” he mumbled to himself rolling a small red rock no larger than a thumbnail between his fingers, a memento of his last trip to Mars smuggled home and his most prized possession. He rocked slowly and pulled a blanket over his knees. He looked at it and his eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face. He had kept it locked away for decades but today, today he wanted to hold it. It was softer to the touch than he remembered, perhaps from being kept in the old cigarette tin in the dresser.
“I went there you know” he told his canary. He had told her uncountable times but he didn’t know that, not anymore. His once sharp mind was now a lottery when it came to the things he remembered and the things he did not. “I saw sunrise over the Martian planes, before we stopped going there and trust me, it was a sight to behold. Miles of red, like a sea of blood stretched out before us.”
The canary cheeped and cleaned her feathers, then hopped down to the bottom of the cage.
“Oh yes” he continued proudly, fragments of past glories now darting about his mind. “I was a real American hero indeed.”
The canary chirped again, and then for a second time as Amos suddenly stiffened, a look of pain etched across his face. His right arm reached for his chest and the small rock fell from his hand. Amos gasped as the bird continued to chirp loudly, now in full cardiac arrest. Hands clenched into fists the life ebbed slowly from his body as his eyes glazed over and with a final gasp Amos McCartney drifted into nothing.
And with that final, his body now relaxed the chair rocked forward crushing the small rock fragment, red dust smeared on the carpet beneath the runner of the old rocking chair. The canary chirped wildly, hopping up to the small wooden perch and then back to the cage floor but there was nobody to hear it or heed it’s warnings.
Slowly, spreading out from the spot under the chair a red stain began to creep. It first engulfed the chair and Amos, turning them a dark ochre red and, moments later, the wood and flesh and plaid blanket on his knees suddenly collapsed into dust. The canary chirped wildly, flying around the small cage panicked.
Outwards it then began to spread and in a moment the chirps of the canary were silenced…
Once a prudish young woman named Jude
Had a belly that seemed to protrude
It turned out to be gas
Cos she not let her ass
pass wind as he found it quite rude
I once worked with a woman called Cath
Didn’t shower and seldom did bath
god the stench from her pits
Tits and rank naughty bit
It’s not funny you so shouldn’t laugh
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
I set myself a challenge this week…
Fatties in space – The Poem. Not for kiddies
Image courtesy of me
Limericks? In the middle of the day? Surely not…
There once was a teacher named Tash
Who one day she did sprout a moustache
Cross her lip it did wend
And curl up at the end
Joined the circus and made loads of cash
There once was a farmer maned Bert
Loved his milk cows so much that it hurt
Went too far, made me shudder
What he did with that udder
Let’s just say that it caused quite the squirt…
There once was dancer called Shirley
Who’s pubes were quite thick and most curly
It was full and so plush
A most seventies bush
Who’d have thought for a creature most girly
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
I set myself a challenge this week…
Fatties in space – The Poem. Not for kiddies
Image courtesy of me
You should not like them but you will…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
That title is a bit over the top isn’t it. Sorry.
A fellow quite fond of a spank
Gave up his well paid job in the Bank
Now he spends each day addled
High on coke getting paddled
By a 6ft tall angry blonde yank
There one hailed a man from Peru
Without pork he simply could not do
He could not live without
Daily servings of snout
Curly tails, pointy ears, trotters too
Orange man king of U S of A
Cannot stand the poor, sick, black or gay
God forbid you’re all 4
He will kill you for sure
Just as soon as he gets his own way
Jeremiah stepped out into the night pulling his coat collar around his ears as the rain continued to fall, iridescent pools forming across the open paved area in front of the building that lead to the cross town zip.
These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words only. I’m less strict about that now. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene. I did part 1 here and this is a bit more.
PART 2
Jeremiah stepped out into the night pulling his coat collar around his ears as the rain continued to fall, iridescent pools forming across the open paved area in front of the building that lead to the cross town zip. The Immigration centre was in the heart of the market district, a leftover from decades before when this was part of a vibrant business area hosting head offices of banks and financial institutions from across the planet. Now it was very much a sea of stalls, food vendors and a pulsating night live that catered for the most basic tastes and cravings for creatures from across all four systems. High rises had been converted for accommodation and the suits were mostly long gone.
The main road through the area was a sea of neon painted against the wall of converted hab-blocks towering high into the grey skies above. Across from the immigration building, illuminated only by the crack and fizz of the day glow signs, he could make out the silhouettes of a tall Carillion and a small group of Thracians.
“What a joke” he mumbled to himself. Earth had welcomed them, gave them refuge and saved them from the ravages of their own worlds, but now they had taken over huge swathes of the city and people like him – humans, born of Earth – were an endangered species in some parts.
“Hey handsome” came a voice from the shadows as he crossed towards the Zip station. “You been working late? You looking for something special?”
Jeremiah turned towards the source of the voice. It was a Carillion. Humanoid in basic form but standing 8 foot tall with bright blue scaled skin they were quite something. Her voice rolled with an enticing melody. It was almost a song and Jeremiah paused for a moment.
“No, no I don’t.” He answered sharply. “I have a wife.”
She sensed reservation in his voice. She know his type. Hated them and their kind but couldn’t resist the lure of something exotic. “You sure baby” she answered smiling. She motioned towards a door lit by a single white light. “My home is your home.”
Jeremiah walked slowly over. There was a reason the Carillions were so popular, he’d heard the men in the office talking about them. “Show me” he said, a snarl on his face
She placed a hand on the side of his head. “Close your eyes baby”.
Jeremiah obeyed and in a moment he felt her inside his head, images of writhing flesh and darkest desires flooding his senses. He could taste her on his tongue. He could feel her long slender fingers on his skin.
“Stop” he shouted opening his eyes grabbing her arm.
She smiled at him and lowered her arm. “It’s okay baby I understand, I’ve seen your thoughts. I know how you feel about us. It’s okay”
He released her arm and stood staring up at her. He wanted it. He wanted her. He had a thousand reasons to head home but right now all he could think of was the thoughts she’d put in his head.
“How much?” he asked.
She reached for his hand and opened the door. “A hundred and fifty Credits for everything.”
He reached into his pocket and checked his wallet.
“I have one request” he said putting it back into his pocket.
“Yes baby of course, whatever you desire” she answered leading him through the door and up a small flight of stairs.
His mouth dry and pulse racing he followed her into a small room. There were threadbare carpets on the floor and a bed along one wall. On the opposite side of the room was a screen draped with a silk gown. The walls were bare save for a long mirror and a crucifix above the sink in the corner.
Jeremiah reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his wallet and paid her. He then took out his phone and sent a message to his wife telling her he would be home late and put it back away.
He looked up at her as she caressed his face.
“So what was that request you had then“ she asked, her voice filling his head.
He paused. He hated himself. “I want you to hurt me…”
Crass and inappropriate
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
There once lived a man in Phuket
kept an elephant calf as a pet
treat it rather quite bad
it grew large and got mad
squashed him flat, left a smear, rather wet
An old lady qho rather loved cats
lived alone in a tall block of flats
died alone at her place
and the cats ate her face
decomposed, then was fed on by rats
A chap on vacation in Delhi
drank the water and god a bad belly
he would cry scream and shout
as he turned inside out
quite disgusting and rather quite smelly
“Carillions are awful at paperwork” he said to himself opening the file on the clan connections. That was it. That’s what felt wrong, this application just looked too good. “What are you hiding buddy?”
These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words only. I’m less strict about that now. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene. This might actually be part 1…or the intro…
Jeremiah pushed his chair back, puffed out his cheeks and put his hands behind his head. Just this case to finish and then he would head out for something to eat and then go home. He sighed and looked out across the ofice and noticed he was alone, the three long rows of pods long emptied for the day. As usual he was first in and last out.
“No wonder the detention centres are full” he mumbled to himself.
He scanned the data on the holo-screen before him. Everything looked okay on the surface but something about the case made him uneasy. There were no outstanding warrants or red flags from across any of the four known systems, he had clan already settled on the east coast and his paperwork was faultless. He hadn’t even had any run ins in the centre which was rare for his type.
“Carillions are awful at paperwork” he said to himself opening the file on the clan connections. That was it. That’s what felt wrong, this application just looked too good. “What are you hiding buddy?”
He chewed on a pen as he went through every page of the settlement application, but he couldn’t find anything solid.
Like so many Carillions he had found his way to earth after fleeing his home to escape the persecution of the Tardaron Federation, and whilst the central Earth Government wanted to help they’d been swamped in the three years following first contact so had brought in tight regulations to ensure the other systems weren’t just shipping their problems to Earth.
Now didn’t care for either race particularly but the Carillions had provided the earth government with some pretty serious military tech so for now they were the good guys.
Jeremiah sighed. As much as he wanted to reject the case he couldn’t find anything. He tossed the pen across he desk, pressed the ‘Authorise’ button and shut it down.
“Alexa, what time is it” he asked rubbing his eyes.
“The time is Eight thirty five” came the response.
Jeremiah got up from his chair, pushed it back under his desk and headed for the door. There would be more to process tomorrow, he’d meet his rejection quota then.
One’s about putting marrows in one’s bottom…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Once a woman quite fond of baguette
just the shape brought her out in a sweat
the soft inner, hard crust
filled her mind with such lust
and a footlong, well that made her wet
There once hailed a plumber from Goole
Who did not work on loos as a rule
See they made him unwell
Could not handle the smell
God forbid he should witness a stool
A gardner, big veg fan from Leeds
quite depraved in his sexual needs
how he loved to shove marrow
in his passages narrow
then would eat them, apart from the seeds
The old porch swing creaked as Cal pushed slowly back and forth, the evening breeze cool against his skin and the smell of bougainvillea thick in the air.
These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words only. I’m less strict about that now. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene.
The old porch swing creaked as Cal pushed slowly back and forth, the evening breeze cool against his skin and the smell of bougainvillea thick in the air. Sam sat with him, saying nothing, simply staring up into the sky where the huge fireball seemed to hang like a balloon on the wind. After a while he shifted in his seat and spoke.
“How long until it get’s here dad?” He asked.
Cal placed his hand on Sam’s arm. He was a great kid with so much of his life still to be lived. He deserved better than this.
“They say tomorrow will be our last.” Cal answered calmly. He thought to himself that he probably should have lied but Sam wasn’t stupid. He knew what was coming, he’d seen the news.
“So why couldn’t they stop it?” He asked.
“We did everything we could son” he answered putting his arm around his shoulder and pulling him close. “But it was too big, too fast, and we just saw it too late.”
Sam pointed at the sky. “It looks like another sun doesn’t it” he said quite calmly.
“Uh huh. I guess so” Cal answered.
Sam lowered his arm and sat up straight on the edge of the bench. He shuffled where he sat, looking uncomfortable.
“Did we deserve to die?” He asked “because Jenny Wilkes at the store said this was happening because we’re all evil.”
“Sam no, god no” Cal answered sitting upright next to him. “We’re just in it’s path son, it’s nothing we’ve done.”
Sam seemed happy with the answer. “I’m not scared you know” he said turning to look at his father. “I’ve had a good life.”
Cal choked up. He didn’t know what to say. Here he was wanting to scream and shout about how unfair it all was and his son goes and says that.
“Do you think I would have had a wife one day?” Sam continued.
“Oh Sam” Cal exclaimed fighting back tears. “I’m quite sure you would have yes. Definitely yes.”
“Do you think she would have been like mum?”
“I’m sure she would have been just as wonderful as your mum son, without a doubt.” Cal answered, tears streaming down his face. Sam wasn’t really old enough to remember her but every night he would ask and Cal would tell him all about her. “She would have been so proud of you, you know that right.”
Sam stood from the bench and turned to face his father.
“I know dad” he said smiling and reached out a hand. “Let’s go watch a movie, I think that would be a good way to spend the night. Then tomorrow we will see mum again.”
I’ll get bored of them eventually I am sure. Maybe…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
There once hailed a priest from Manilla
who turned out was a serial killer
Though on Sundays he’d rest
with the saved and the blessed
Then on Monday, kill whores, what a thriller
Want to read more of my stuff? No. Don’t blame you, no offence taken.
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/homage/
Both serious and playful. The Japanese would not approve
The haiku, so proud, tight, formal. So little saying so much. Mostly though I like to defile them with the ridiculous. Oh, and I know they’re probably Senryu. I struggle with boundaries a bit.
Second amendment
It’s your right to bare arms
and murder school kids.
Seems there was another school shooting in Kentucky. Seriously people…
Clown. Joyful japing
smiles on the face of children
but dying inside
and maybe one more
Evening on red wine
Glug glug glug glass after glass
mouth like a sex doll
More stuff from my brain meat…
Charlie’s Journey – OWPC Challenge
Deep and insightfully insightfulnessness
On the matter of meat, probing and D
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
There once was a butcher from Crete
had a love of fish, poultry and meat
gorged on legs, wings and chops
haggis eggs and roll-mops
burgers, sausage and steaks such a treat
Fan of X-Files insisted he’d been
by some aliens, sucked up in a beam
stretched his bottom quite wide
as they probed deep inside
the poor chap what they did was obscene
Once a POTUS who claimed “It’s fake news”
hates the poor and the blacks but likes Jews
grabs your wife by the V
then he showers in Pee
supports racist right wing and their views
Children for sale, get your fresh children here!
These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words only. I’m less strict about that now. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene.
Cal opened his eyes slowly, his head pounding and a searing pain in his chest. As his senses returned he found himself looking out into the darkness of space, the earth drifting far in the distance. He was in one of the SS Brunel’s escape pods, he had done enough inspections of them in his time so that he knew. What he didn’t know was how he’d got there.
He reached for his chest and winced. There was blood and scorch marks on his tunic and he could smell med-plas. Someone had patched him up but no matter how hard he tried he had no idea who.
He stabbed a finger at the console in front of him but it was completely dead with the exception of a single blinking red light and a small dial with an indicator reading ten percent.
“Well I have life support” he said to himself tapping the gauge. “For now at least.”
He pulled at the manual ignition lever above his head in an attempt to force a reboot of the pod but there was just a dull click. A few more pumps resulted in the same result and he pushed the lever back into its housing. If he couldn’t get the pod back online this was going to be a very short trip.
“Come on baby” he said willing her back into life and shifting uncomfortably in his chair to reach for a panel to his left. He pulled open a small hatch to reveal the distress beacon which should have been blinking, but wasn’t.
He ran his hands through his hair and cursed. No power, no distress beacon and life support now less than ten percent.
By his reckoning he had maybe an hour before oxygen levels dropped to critical.
Another day, more limericks
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Ballet dancer who got rather plump
so much so that she barely could jump
All the cookies and pies
they went straight to her thighs
when she did she came down with a thump
Once a Gent with a craving for women
went to watch them and spied on them swimming
he emerged ,they screamed “Weirdo!”
at the bulge in his speedo
didn’t help, the lip licking and grinning
Once a Donald with cravings for females
banged a porn star, ensuring no blackmail
paid her off, hundred K
“Doesn’t matter” he’ll say
“Not as bad as Clinton and her email!”
Waiting for the kids to finish school
I haven’t had much time write anything today as I have been rather busy doing stuff, but I did have a wee gap when picking the kids up from school and had the words Denise and Cheese rattling around in my head and needed to get them out so even more limericks. I think the second may be my one of my best ever.
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Friend of mine met a woman, Denise
Super hot but alas smelled like cheese
Tried quite hard, could not bed her
As she smelled just like cheddar
Gorgonzola, blue Danish and Bries
There once was a chap quite humongous
Never bathed, in his rolls he grew fungus
In his chins you’d find mould
Sweat would pool in each fold
In his crack nasty filth in abundance
There was a woman called Kate
Who would eat every crumb on her plate
She would nibble from others
From her parents and brothers
Now quite round and she cant find a date
Want to read more of my stuff? No. Don’t blame you, no offence taken.
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/homage/
Need a get well soon limerick? Look no further…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Saw your dad, says you’re suffering a spell
raging fever and sweaty as hell
spent all day on the loo
from both ends, as you do
hope you’re soon on the mend and quite well
You’ve a rash and the pustules are welling
and a discharge that’s green and now smelling
Maybe go see a nurse
‘fore it gets any worse
could explode if it carries on swelling
Want to read more of my stuff? No. Don’t blame you, no offence taken.
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/homage/
Afterwards 