Yet another…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Pioneer said, “Eureka, a plan
I’ll keep pigs on a farm in Iran!
Get your pork” he did shout
“Sausage, bacon and snout”
So they stoned him and blamed the Quran
All a bit wrong
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Chap I know met this lass on the net
Got him hot and into quite a sweat
The reveal was a shock
Turned out she had a cock
(And some big hairy balls I would bet
More of the same
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Once a POTUS said “Give them all guns
to the teachers, the kids and the mums
to the poor and the sick
to the old and the thick”
“Oh Bravo” said his NRA chums
A real who dunnit…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Once a widow in black at the grave
For her husband did cry, being brave
But when home she’d rejoice
At the fear in his voice
When with candle his head she did stave
A limerick because why not!
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
A fellow rotund, barrel chested
Would snore loudly in bed when he rested
‘till his wife cracked and screamed
Bashed his head as he dreamed
She slept soundly in jail when arrested
Incy wincy oh my bloody hell!
Oh I hear that your feeling unwell
You got bit and it started to swell
Lets hope it’s not a spider
That then laid eggs inside ya
Cos they’ll burst out, that’s scary as hell
Ooh what a lovely baguette you have sir
There once was a baker called Brad
Who was fancied by his girlfriend’s dad
The thought of his baguette
Brought him out in a sweat
And his cheese topped bread rolls drove him mad
It’s been a while…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
POTUS fond of cavorting in pee
Banged a porn star, big fan of the V
Then he paid her a sum
Not to speak and keep shtum
That’s the norm in the land of the free
A limerick about Andy’s rather dirty wife
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Once in Rhyll lived a plumber called Andy
had a wife who when drunk got quite randy
she was game, full of wine
and on beer quite devine
but my god what a tramp when on brandy
Just a little silliness in this sea of seriousness
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 called Wendy
who he claimed was incredibly bendy
to applause, whoops and cheers
legs tucked behind her ears
Oh my god! The photos he once sent me
Just the one…
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
There once was a fellow from Crete
had a quite kinky craving for feet
how he craved toes and heels
cos it gave him sex feels
and the odour he loved, oh so sweet
Not what it seems I assure you.
I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects. What do you reckon?
Once a fellow from Afghanistan…
Okay so I have failed tonight. I tried a couple of places right and ended up choosing Afghanistan, and Tehran and Pakistan thinking I would go a little further afield. As a second line though, no matter how hard I tried all I could think of was these people packing their families up into a van. No matter where I tried to go these poor buggers ended up squashed in the rear of an old battered pickup.
They weren’t going anywhere nice though, not on a holiday or anything. They weren’t even going to the shops to pick up some of whatever people would go to the shops to buy in Afghanistan. Probably toilet roll and crisps like everyone everywhere else on the planet.
No, I had them in a van, accompanied by a goat doing their damnedest to not be where they were. What do I know about these places I then ask myself. Not enough probably – they might be perfectly happy in Tehran shopping for magazines and orange cordial and pillows.
I get I can be ignorant, I suppose we all can be. I might have to do a bit of research and then – if it turns out I was right – then I will happily pack them into a van and have my way with them.
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
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
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
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
Its not really all it seems
Its a tale, old and true, through the ages to you
a man good, brave and noble quite grand
he’s from stories of old, and songs sung and yarns told
stout of heart but alas such small hands
From when he was a lad, he would say to his dad
One day I, will for sure, be a knight
But alas his dad feared and he scratched his long beard
Not convinced that in fact his son might
For his hands so quite small, even though he was tall
And a sword he could surely not hold
It would fall from his grip, to the ground it would slip
Left defenceless alone in the cold
“Perhaps it’s not for you” , said his dad, his heart blue
“Maybe you should consider your trade
Jesters are in demand and with your tiny hands
You would surely have your fortune made
You can dance, perform tricks, they will laugh, give you tips
You can jape, as they point at your fingers
Dressed as harlequin king, telling jokes then you sing
Of the Celts cross the sea, all such gingers
Okay so I will stop there. Ever start a post and persist and persist and then realise you’re wasting your time? Well this was one of those. For some reason I got into my head that a poem about a knight with small hands called Brian would be a good idea. I like to think I am pretty creative but beyond the title that is all I had. I started to write and got a few nicely rhymed bits done and then kind of backed myself into a corner.
Instead of stopping what I did was keep going which was a bad idea because beyond King, knight and jester I wasn’t wholly convinced of what other jobs you’d have in medieval times. Priest? Blacksmith? Boil Lancer? Pot Emptier? So another bad idea there obviously.
I did toy with the ridiculous and there will forever be remembered the missing verse where I discussed just how much bigger things seem when held in small hands. I thought for a while that it was funny then realised it sounded like it involved a child’s hands and a grown mans…well you know. I quickly deleted it.
I was then going to try and make it some sort of political commentary on Donald Trump which just made me think that I should perhaps shut the hell up because there are limits to weirdness and an allegorical tale about Donald Trump through the medium of a small handed knight is just stupid.
So this is it. A lesson in knowing when to say enough is enough because as much as you might like your title and the noble looking photo you found on pixabay sometimes there just aren’t enough words to rhyme with hands…
Not sure where that came from…
Ive a story to tell, settle down listen well
Tis a tale of a woman of needs
And the cravings inside, which have made her quite wide
And the treats upon which she so feeds
Now Maria’s her name, and cake wrangling’s her game
Shes a pro, every day on her lips
Whether Gateau’s or pies, small or massive in size
Cream and chocolate into her mouth drip
She’s mad for banoffee, and small cupcakes with coffee
She’ll do things rather dirty for choux
Muffin gobbler is she, has cream horns with her tea
Panettone? Just a portion or two
Of red velvet she’ll dream and she quaffs it with cream
And then onto some sweet baklava
She hides brownies in bed, and loves sweet pumpkin bread
Stashes souffle down inside her bra
Doughnuts, pancakes and tarts, cookies shaped just like hearts
And on shortbread she eats quite her fill
Gives hand jobs for yum yums, taste so sweet on her tongue
For a fruit cake she’d happily kill
For no matter the treat, just as long as it’s sweet
Our Maria she needs to eat more
Sponge cake, jam filled with cream they’re an absolute dream
The cake wrangler can’t help but adore
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
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/
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
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/
