Favorite limericks....

There once was an old man of Esser,

Whose knowledge grew lesser and lesser,

It at last grew so small

He knew nothing at all

And now he's a college professor.

The limerick packs laughs anatomical
Into space that is quite economical.
But the good ones I've seen
So seldom are clean -
And the clean ones so seldom are comical.

There was a young man from Kent,
Who's wick was incredibly bent,
To save himself trouble,
He bent over double,
and instead of coming he went!

Any limerick about a person from Nantucket is sure to be a good one.

Originally posted by Grampy Bobby
Perhaps your dumbed down persona failed to realize it... but you

happen to be addressing a lady. There are some things I do abhor.

Thought we reached a truce. Why persist in testing my patience?

Originally posted by Grampy Bobby
Ladies are to be respected. Your grandmother, mother, aunt, sister,

wife and coquette are always due that deference from gentlemen.

Originally posted by joe shmo
There oncw was a man of Matrass
Who's balls where made of fine brass
In stormy weather they clang together
and sparks flew out of his @$$

Originally posted by AThousandYoung
There once was a lass from Madras
She had a remarkable ass!
Not rounded and pink,
as you'd like to think 😠
It was gray, had long ears and ate grass!

🙂

Originally posted by muppyman
I think mine is one by Pam Ayers.

Two ugly sisters from Fordham,
Went for a walk to beat boredom,
On the way back
A sex maniac,
Jumped out from a bush and ignored 'em.

Anyone care to contribute?? Reasonably clean preferred. 🙂

Written for my hs freshman english class:

There once was a man from new york
who ate up his pork with a fork.
a guy walked on bye
and spit in his eye
and he swallowed the fork with the pork.

My teach clapped🙂 She loved it anyway...

There once was a girl from Cape Cod,
Who that she'd been buggered by God,
But it wasn't Jehova,
Who turned the girl over,
'Twas the vicar the dirty old sod!

There once was a man from Nantucket,
Who wrote whilst perched on a bucket,
But he couldn't write free,
For all yous to see,
So he just got drunk and said damn it.

Brand new one, writ like 2 minutes ago:

There was a young lady from Yonkers
who one day went totally bonkers
feeling quite loose
fell in love with a goose
and flew off with one of the honkers.

there was an old hooker from crewe
who filled up her fanny with glue
she said with a grin
if you pay to get in
you will sure pay to get out too.

Ogden Nash has to be one of my favourites.
The man was a nutter, what's not to love?

Full collection here: http://www.poemhunter.com/ogden-nash/poems/page-1/

Fleas

Adam
Had'em
_ _ _ _ _ _

Celery

Celery, raw
Develops the jaw,
But celery, stewed,
Is more quietly chewed.
_ _ _ _ _ _


A Drink With Something In It

There is something about a Martini,
A tingle remarkably pleasant;
A yellow, a mellow Martini;
I wish I had one at present.
There is something about a Martini,
Ere the dining and dancing begin,
And to tell you the truth,
It is not the vermouth--
I think that perhaps it's the gin.
_ _ _ _ _ _

No Doctor's Today, Thank You

They tell me that euphoria is the feeling of feeling wonderful,
well, today I feel euphorian,
Today I have the agility of a Greek god and the appetitite of a
Victorian.
Yes, today I may even go forth without my galoshes,
Today I am a swashbuckler, would anybody like me to buckle
any swashes?
This is my euphorian day,
I will ring welkins and before anybody answers I will run away.
I will tame me a caribou
And bedeck it with marabou.
I will pen me my memoirs.
Ah youth, youth! What euphorian days them was!
I wasn't much of a hand for the boudoirs,
I was generally to be found where the food was.
Does anybody want any flotsam?
I've gotsam.
Does anybody want any jetsam?
I can getsam.
I can play chopsticks on the Wurlitzer,
I can speak Portuguese like a Berlitzer.
I can don or doff my shoes without tying or untying the laces because
I am wearing moccasins,
And I practically know the difference between serums and antitoccasins.
Kind people, don't think me purse-proud, don't set me down as
vainglorious,
I'm just a little euphorious.
_ _ _ _ _ _

The Octopus

Tell me, O Octopus, I begs
Is those things arms, or is they legs?
I marvel at thee, Octopus;
If I were thou, I'd call me Us.
_ _ _ _ _ _

The People Upstairs

The people upstairs all practise ballet
Their living room is a bowling alley
Their bedroom is full of conducted tours.
Their radio is louder than yours,
They celebrate week-ends all the week.
When they take a shower, your ceilings leak.
They try to get their parties to mix
By supplying their guests with Pogo sticks,
And when their fun at last abates,
They go to the bathroom on roller skates.
I might love the people upstairs more
If only they lived on another floor.