[This collection includes non-standard limericks: extended limericks and limerick poems, etc.]
There once was a nonce name of Hunt-
Ley who said “I’m sure that knife is blunt”,
But alas, it was not,
Now a scarred face he’s got
In Frankland gaol, the murdering cunt.
A computer, to print out a fact,
Will divide, multiply, and subtract.
But this output can be
No more than debris,
If the input was short of exact.
[Acknowledgements to Dave Gorski, Sysop ASPECTS.]
There was once a young lady named Sam
Who said: Brainless you may think I am,
Just because I undress
For the popular press,
But I’m making a mint,
(Not bad for a dumb bint),
So I really could not give a damn.
Poor old Thatcher, how sad she must be,
For she’s just been refused a degree:
An honorary one,
Guess that’s one up the bum
For the snatching old bitch – ha ha he!
There was a young man of Kalamazoo
Had a girlfriend, Sue,
And a smew called Slew.
He said to her:
“O Sue, be true and never stew my smew,
For if you, Sue, should stew my Slew,
And if you tricked me, Sue, to chew
The stew of my smew, my stewed Slew,
I’d chew, then spew my stewed smew Slew over you.”
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
’Twould be folly for the Afrikaner
To turn over, today, or mañana,
His great nation to scum
Like that murdering bum
Bob Mugabe, or Canaan Banana.
There was once an old DJ named Fluff
Who said: Metal’s made of the right stuff,
And although I’m not young
I would rather be hung
Than play Country, soul, or that schmaltz guff.
There once was a homo named Turing,
Who said: I find queer sex alluring,
And though I have tried
Hormone treatment, he cried,
There’s no way my perversion it’s curing.
There was a queer fellow, Tu-ring,
Said: There’s a peculiar thing,
I’m great at code-breaking,
And quite good at taking
A length, though I find it does sting.
There was once a bent copper, Dizaei,
Whose methods were cunning and sly,
Alas, now it appears
He’s been given four years
After one of his schemes went awry!
It was on the Free Enterprise ferry
While the crew were imbibing their sherry,
That, on hearing some screams,
The first mate said: It seems
That our guests are unusually merry!
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
A public schoolboy, Algernon,
Found “whore” in his new lexicon;
He said: That sounds nice,
Met one, asked her price,
And went with her twice,
Caught scabies and lice,
As well as both chancre and gonn.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was a bloke, Barrymore, oh such a pain,
Who plied a young butcher with booze and cocaine,
Now he’s out on a limb
Come a 3am swim,
Let us hope he’s not seen on our TVs again.
There was once a young fellow named Hunt
Who was kissing a girl in his canoe,
She said: Show me that trick
That you do with your fag
When you blow rings of smoke in the air.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
A repulsive fat woman named Dworkin
Disapproved of men’ leerin’ and gawkin’
“I never give head
Cos I hate sex,” she said,
“My flesh creeps at the mere thought of porkin’.”
There was a bent copper named Hayman,
Who liked a few jars with the drayman,
And the odd bribe or two
Like the rest of his crew,
To his secret account in the Cayman...
Archimedes, the ancient truth seeker,
Said: “If I stick my prick in a beaker,
And it doesn’t displace
Water all round the place,
The last thing I’ll do is shout Eureka!”
Said a Russian: “You fellows in NATO
Why you so much us Soviets hate-o?
Come on chappies, disarm,
There’s no cause for alarm”.
But they said: “Good idea, you first, mate-o”.
Click here for this.
Click here for background and explanation.
There was once a young fellow named Bampton,
Went around at night flashing his hampton,
That was ten years ago,
For as far as I know
The poor bleeder’s still locked up in Rampton.
When a punk applied for a position
With the Beeb, he was met with derision,
Although not, it appears
Of the rings in his ears,
But because he had no circumcision.
There was a young lady named Pippa,
Who said: You’re not tagging my nipper
With fingerprint scans,
Or the palms of his hands,
’Cos I’m taking my lead from the Gipper!
It’s well-known there are fish in a lough,
But it isn’t well-known that the chough
Is a similar bird,
To the jay – that’s absurd?
They are of the same family though!
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
Today’s the first day of the rest of your life,
Admittedly it has seen heartache and strife,
Though think, you’re luck-y
You’ve not only met me,
But you are unburdened with mortgage or wife!
February 13, 2011
There was a Prime Minister, Blair,
Who said: Honest I am, I do swear,
I must be, you see,
My wife is a QC,
And if I weren’t, she’d so declare.
As a footballer, George was the Best,
As a drinking man, he was a pest,
One day, caught on the hop,
Georgie nutted a cop,
So they sent him away for a rest.
[The above was first published in The Comedy Bulletin, May 1988, and then in A Book Of Limericks]
Young Boy George is a showman with swank,
People stare at him like he’s a crank,
But if you should say:
George O’Dowd, are you gay?
He’ll just laugh, all the way
To the bank.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
When a fellow called Bert, from Brighouse,
Took his gun and went off to shoot grouse,
He was nicked by the law,
And sent down for a score,
For the grouse that he shot was his spouse.
Burmese Days is a George Orwell story
Of a perplexed young fellow name Flory
Who does himself dead
With a shot through the head:
A tale that’s both tragic and gory.
March 10, 1992
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
There was a young fellow named Burns,
The sort of bloke who never learns,
Like Steve K he will
Denounce you as a shill,
And laugh at your logic in turns.
There was a young fellow named Cal,
Who really took umbrage at Al
Exposing his junk,
With a ruthless debunk,
Like Steve, he’ll cop any tall tal’.
If you should see something that you want
But you’re hard up, there’s no need to rant,
Just say: Fair enough,
I’ll buy it soon, though
As things stand at the moment, I can’t.
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
A young lad from the Isle of Tobago,
Told a joke to a likeable dago,
Did the Span-i-ard laugh?
Yes, he sure did, not half:
“How d’you start a rice pudding race? Say go!”
When playing the Caro, and mated
In six moves, a student berated
His conqueror, for
The man said “You sure
A sap like you is FIDE-rated?”
[The above was first published in CHESS POST, Issue No. 235, Vol 42, No. 4 September 2004, page 243 under Readers’ Letters.]
When a pig of a man, Eddie Carter,
Who was known as a burper and farter,
Asked a young woman out,
She replied: Piss off, lout;
Eddie Carter’s persona non grata!
Anytime you do business with me,
Don’t expect to get anything free,
For whatever your merit,
I’ll give you no credit:
I buy and I sell C.O.D.
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
There was a young lady, Celeste,
Who bellowed and loudly confessed
Of the Cos’ claims I’ve seen,
Those of that woman Green
Are the ones that amuse me the best.
January 7, 2016
There was a young lady named Goins,
Who thought she could earn a few coins,
By trashing a bloke
She claimed had a poke
Supposedly of her drunk loins.
March 12, 2015
There was a young lady named Khaw,
Who bit like a rabid wild boar,
She chastised as sluts
Girls who wiggled their butts,
And left airhead feminists sore.
There was a giant crab name of Claude,
That one bloke believed was a fraud,
Until he fell foul
Of Claude’s claws, and his howl
Could be heard by his cousin abroad.
Said Claude Crab: Please don’t act in haste
By eating me, for though I’d taste
Nice baked, boiled or raw,
You will earn so much more
If you take me to shore
And exhibit my claw
In a place where I’ll not go to waste.
[In April 2012, a massive crab was caught off the coast of Tasmania; it was sold to the Sea Life Centre at Weymouth, Dorset, England – hence the above two.]
There was an old woman named Hillary Clint’,
Set up a foundation to make her a mint,
She sure made it pay,
But alas, yesterday,
It torpedoed her chance of a new White House stint.
October 30, 2016
There was an old man of Benghazi
Was said to be an A-rab Nazi,
His forty year reign
Was washed clean down the drain,
And the poor bloke was flushed down the carsey.
There was a young lady named Lackey
Was fucked in the arse by a blackie,
Now poor Cory Batey
And Brandon his matey
Are doing hard time
For a twisted sex crime
That was pointless, depraved, sick and tacky.
There was a young lady named Leigh,
Who fancied some crabsticks for tea,
But when she saw Claude,
She exclaimed: “Oh my gawd,
If we dine, it’s him who will eat me!”
There was an odd fellow Chris Fay,
Who said of Elm Guest House one day:
The things they did there
I was never aware,
But this scandal I love to purvey.
There was an old woman named Hillary Clint’
Whose crooked foundation had made her a mint,
But though donations ceased
From Down Under, Mid East’...
I doubt she or Chelsea will ever be skint.
November 25, 2016
Said a London detective named Jason:
“My promotion to sergeant I’ll hasten
If I’m good at my job,
Have a care with my gob,
Hold my drink, and become a Freemason.”
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was a young lady named Annie,
Whose an-a-to-mee was uncanny:
She kept her mouth shut,
Elevated her butt,
And then sprayed folk with shit through her fanny.
[Up yours, you little cunt.]
There once was a fellow named Moyes,
Who took on the Ferguson boys,
But fucked them so badly,
They sacked the cunt gladly,
And no football club now employs
The useless twat.
There once was a piglet Sophina Hussain,
Whose methods sent her non-career down the drain,
For folk were annoyed,
By the way she employed
Her powers to sully them time and again.
There once was a piglet named Caroline Fisk
Whose mode of detection was shallow and brisk,
Alas, she is now
Detested, and how
By those reputations she put at such risk.
Dennis T was the Crucible’s hex:
He left Thorburne and Knowles nervous wrecks.
In the final he came
From eight down to win fame,
And all thanks to his magical specs!
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was this all round sportsman named Dennis,
Who with other blokes’ wives, was a menace,
Till a guy smashed his balls
Round the courts and the halls,
(And I don’t mean at snooker or tennis).
Don’t you wish you were rich as a Getty,
With you own private plane, boat and jetty,
And a Cadillac car,
And a sitting room bar.
And such money to lend,
To donate and to spend
You could throw it around like confetti?
There was this famous actor, Rock Hudson,
Was reputed to be quite a stud, son,
When he died, Doris Day
Exclaimed: “Rock Hudson, gay!?
I would never had thought him a dud, son.”
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was once a con woman named Stokes,
Who for decades duped women and blokes
With her spirit world tales;
My credulity fails
To be fooled by such transparent jokes.
But appears many others do not,
For though dead, Doris ain’t long forgot,
Because she still answers
The Sun’s necromancers
From the other side – yes, what rot!
Said a cop to his son: Don’t learn Morse,
That’s a waste of time in today’s force,
But there’s one vital code
You should learn – and he showed
Him...? the right way to shake hands, of course!
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was once a young fellow named Major
Said: I think it’s a terrible wager
That in this century
The PM I will be;
She’ll go on till my retirement age, ’er!
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
There was once an old fellow named Fish
Who was told by a viewer: It’s pish
What you say ’bout the weather,
Get your act together,
Say how it is, not how you wish.
There was once a girl, Flora of Florida,
Had it off with her boss in the corrida,
Now this fairest of maids
Is infected with AIDS,
Which is like the Black Death, only horrida.
It does seem exceedingly strange
There are no words that rhyme with o-range,
But versatile poet
I am – and you know it,
I can rhyme o-range with a change.
For Al Stewart fans everywhere – September 14, 2010
Said a Jock: Of my race, I’m so proud,
And I’ll sing of the Scots long and loud,
Till the end of my days
All my brothers I’ll praise:
Except Burke, Hare and Ally McCloud!
Yeah, I know, Burke and Hare were Irishmen!
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was once a young lady named Fox
Gave her neighbours in Hydesville such shocks
By cleverly faking
Spi-rit table shaking
And all sorts of netherworld knocks.
There was an old fellow named Fred,
Who worked for a bank as its head,
Until he brought it down,
And now thanks to the Crown
He is known as plain Mister instead.
There was a chess player named Frost
Whose path in a libr’ry I crossed;
He played a mean game,
Cold and hard like his name,
But I still am the champ, for he lost.
January 9, 1985
There was a Dutch fuckwit, Geert Wilders
Who said Moslems aren’t empire builders,
But if he thinks Islam,
Is the cause of our harm,
I suggest that he follows the guilders.
There was a hatemonger named Gerry,
Whose fables were dark, sick and merry,
But when he crossed me,
Gerry lost all his glee,
And picked up a big lawyer’s bill – very!
When an arrogant bounder called Nuttal
Propositioned young Cynthia Futtle,
He received, not a wank,
But an indignant spank
On the nose by way of a rebuttal.
There was once an arthritic giraffe
Who when given a polka dot scarf
To protect his long neck
From the cold, said: “Oh heck!
Look at this, the hyenas will laugh!”
[The above was originally published in Neck, and then in A Book Of Limericks]
There was a young man of Full Sutton,
Preferred his spring lamb to old mutton,
Worst of a bad batch,
Alas, now Colin Hatch
Is cold meat and as dead as a button.
February 23, 2011
[Click here for explanation.]
The vicar said: "What a disgrace
’Tis a sacrilege here in this place.
But the groom was quite willing
And said: “It’s so thrilling
To lie on a slab and embrace.”
Said a none too bright student named Hamil:
If it’s true that a mole is a mammal
Cos it lives in a hole,
Then so too is a vole,
But the same can’t be said of a camel!
When a girl with angina named Rhona
Saw a transplant man from Arizona,
She was told: “You must wait,
For we can’t operate
On your heart till we find you a donor”.
Half the cons in this place are so dense
That they keep jumping over the fence
When they’ve weeks left to do,
As I said to a screw:
There’s some people have no fucking sense!
Said a molecule one ancient day:
“I’m so tired of this transient way,
Existing, abating,
Without replicating.”
And presto! So was DNA!
October 24, 1984
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
Said a brilliant astronomer, Hubble:
If the Earth were not shaped like a bubble,
But instead were made square,
Then its corners I swear
Would cause sailors a whole heap of trouble.
[Hubble’s Law was first published in the big Mouse, NO. 1, April 1988, then in A Book Of Limericks]
There was a young lady named Huma,
Whose husband was worse than a tumour;
She heard his lap-top
Was in James Comey’s shop –
And sadly, that’s more than a rumour.
There was a young man from Iberia,
Took a job under Lavrenti Beria,
Till his boss got an urge
For a Stalinist purge,
Now he works down the mines in Siberia.
There was once an old homo named Blunt,
An art expert of sorts, and a runt,
Who for some obscure reason
Was given for treason
A knighthood: the queer, commie cunt!
An executive from Djakata,
Asked his sec’: “Are you wearing a bra?”
“If you want to find out”,
She replied with a pout,
“We had best go and sit in your car”.
Said a lad to his algebra teacher,
“Dear lady, I beg and beseech her,
Please bow to my whim,
And explain to me, nim,
For I’m such a curious creature”.
She said: “I’ve defined a catenary,
And taught you equations in denary,
But you never will do
Higher maths in base two
If you study until your centenary!”
Was a Libyan student named Qaafi,
Had a pet rat he Christened Qadafi,
Ignoring a rumour
His leader’s ill-humour
Would make his blood boil
And his own career spoil;
Now the rat can be found
Six feet under the ground
Lying next to his owner,
Because the old groaner
Qadafi,
Took the joke in bad taste,
Told his hit men go waste
The young creep: “He will not at me laugh-i!”
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
An FBI agent named Jim,
For Hill’ry went out on a limb,
Then had second thoughts,
’Bout his dodgy reports,
And sought to save not her, but him.
October 28, 2016
There was an odd fellow named Jim
For Bill’s wife, went out on a limb,
Till at last, Donald Trump
Said this pain in my rump
Is too much – so he got rid of him.
May 12, 2017
There was once a lady named Jane,
Whose writings were truly inane,
She became a real dope
Watching hours of soap,
And its suds washed the sense from her brain.
There once was a fellow named Jim,
A national treasure, was him,
But now he’s long dead,
Hatred spewed on his head
Makes his legacy murky and grim.
There was a young lady named Cox,
Looked pleasant in trousers or frocks,
But a bloke name of Mair
Said she’d looked best, I swear
In a shiny mahogany box.
There was an old fellow named Biden,
His family fund tried to widen,
He did it with Hunter,
An infamous punter,
But where is his VP now hidin’?
July 7, 2021
Gutter press label Big Mac a brat,
One can hardly take issue with that,
He disputes many calls,
And abuses his balls,
But he still is one hell of a cat.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
Said the TSA to Falcon, Jonah,
You can take your tobacco and toner
Through the X-Ray machine,
But that thing I’ve just seen
In your pants must be stamped by the owner.
A scholar named Jonathan Oates
Renowned for historical quotes,
Said of his new study:
“It surely will muddy
The waters, and make a few groats”.
There is a bloke name of Jon Gold,
Who on 9/11 is sold,
Like Steve K he sees
Many con-spira-cies,
And on reason just can’t get a hold.
There was a fair judge named Macrae
Who said to a bloke, Doyle, today:
“A menace you are
With the guns in your car –
Five years for you. Take ’im away!”
There was a young girl named Kamilah,
Whose lies were as big as Godzilla,
For this Harvard girl grad’
Near destroyed a poor lad
With her lies, and a liar she’s still a...
July 9, 2016.
There was an MP named Keith Vaz,
Whose image was whiter than Daz,
’Till a Sunday tabloid
In an instant destroyed
His career. Where to now – Alcatraz?
September 5, 2016
There was a young soldier named Riggers
Who was hacked to death by two niggers,
Converts to Islam,
Who lacked brains and charm,
Yet claimed they were good guys – that figures.
There was a young lady named Leigh who said: “Wiki
Can come with malware of a kind that is sticky”;
She added with glee,
“It won’t happen to me,
Because in my habits of surfing I’m picky”.
[She of Crabsticks fame.]
Click here for more limericks about Leigh Goessl – many more!
There was a young lady in Chillenden, Kent,
Whose life and her daughter’s were cruel-ly spent,
They blamed Stone, though I
Think ’twas wicked Le-vi
Who killed Dr Russell, but they won’t relent.
There once was a shyster Liz Dux,
Who said “I could not give two fucks
Whose good name I trash
When I rake in the cash,
Be it sterling or euros or bucks”.
There was once an eccentric old peer
Who exclaimed: “’Tis depressing, I fear
That some folk in this nation
Believe their low station
Is worth more than four grand a year”.
When a half-wit do-gooder named Pakenham
Took a con to the races ar Fakenham,
He exclaimed: Oh dear me,
My card, wallet and key
I have lost. (Sap! The dipper had taken ’em).
You may come from the city of Cerne,
From Peking, or from Bolton-on-Derne,
But whatever your race
There’s one fact you should face:
You will never be too old to learn.
There was a fat fellow named Taha,
Got involved in a nasty brouhaha,
With a hate-filled old Jew,
Then decided to sue,
And took Gerry’s cash with a loud “Ha ha!”
There is a bloke Taha has been known to write,
A letter or twenty, by day and by night,
I wouldn’t care but,
When he opens his mutt,
And puts his pen to paper he spouts so much shite.
There once was a foul crime at Chillenden, Kent,
That proved to the world that all coppers are bent,
They used a young prick
To stitch up junkie Mick
With a phoney confession, and wouldn’t relent.
There was a young homo, McShane,
Who said: Sex in the arse is a pain,
But the pain is, I fear,
Far outweighed for a queer
By the pleasure: let’s do it again!
When a child was found dead, they said: Hell a
Lunatic’s on the loose, sick sick fella,
But they all were struck dumb
When the cops charged a mum
With the murder, the wicked Mirella.
There was once a young lass named Godiva,
Who went out with a taxi cab driver,
“I don’t mind doing stripping”,
She told him, “but whipping
Or bondage’ll cost you a fiver.”
There’s a fellow called Mork, a Po-lack,
Who regrets that he wasn’t born black,
Or so I have heard,
Cost he married a bird
Who of melanin pigments no lack.
When a randy old Russian named Giat
Took a girl for a ride in his Fiat,
He asked her “Com-rade,
Would you like to get laid?”
But the girl slapped his face and said “Nyet!”
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
When a nigger from Brixton, a mugger,
Tried to rob an old man who’d played rugger,
He was kicked in the nuts,
Had a dozen bad cuts,
And his nose broke, the poor little bugger.
There was a young lady named Klass,
Who said: You Old Bill are a farce,
Because I’ll use a knife
To defend limb and life,
And if you should object – kiss my arse!
A worried young mother known as Myleene Klass
Waved a knife at intruders through her kitchen glass,
And thought it most odd
To get warned off by plod,
Telling them: “You dumb rozzers can kiss my sweet arse!”
There was a young fellow named Nick,
A race-mixer and a prize dick,
But whatever his goals,
It appears Mr Lowles
Has made Gerry and Sonia feel sick.
There was an old fellow named Brooks
Who boasted of capturing crooks,
And loving hard work,
The poor guy’s such a jerk,
And as daft as a brush in my books.
There was a bloke Brooks, who was said to love Jews,
Regardless of how foul their deeds or their views,
But when told of a plan
To bomb sovereign Iran
He replied: “That accords with my pacifist views!”
A good year was 1984,
With Bhopal, Ethiopia and more,
Like the miners on strike,
And the gay man and dike
Both dying of AIDS by the score.
But living’s not been such a blister,
Least not for the housewife and mister
Of Britain; Big Brother
Is not here to smother
Our freedom, instead, there’s Big Sister!
December 21, 1984.
[Ten years after writing this I realised that dikes don’t die of AIDS!]
Said the big hitting batsman, Clive Lloyd:
If a whitewash you wish to avoid,
Then I’ll have to suggest
When it’s time for the test,
Mr Gower, you’re elsewhere employed.
There was once a young runner named Coe
Who said: Yes, it’s a shame I can’t go,
But I don’t give a damn
For the likes of Steve Cram,
How good I am, you already know.
And I’ve got two fucking gold medals to prove it.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was an old woman named Vesta,
Who went to a league match at Leicester,
And said: “By the way,
It’s way past time, Jose,
That you went home and took a siesta.
Permanently!”
Fast. But can it last
Twelve hour? No will power!
Can it last? No! Blast!
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
When an unemployed tailor, a kike,
Said: The Chancellor’s not to my like
Norman Tebbitt agreed,
but replied: Mr Fried-
Man, that doesn’t help you: on yer bike!
There was a young fellow named Marcus who said:
“If I were a girl, I’d take Justin to bed,
But I’m not, my dear,
And nor am I queer,
So I guess I’ll just write about him instead.
And write about him, and write about him, and write about him...”
There is a bloke Evanderaart
Who’s known to be ever so smart,
He sorted my file
With its coding so vile
To a readable form, end to start.
For the ST I don’t give a toss,
And the Mac’s famous front end is dross,
For the Arch’ and Amiga
I’ve never been eager
Because I’m addicted to DOS!
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line as DOSsers’ Limerick (apostrophe thus).]
A free disk with ...Computer Express
Sounds a great idea, I must confess,
But it isn’t quite free,
For without it, you see,
The mag cost over 60p less.
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
Does the ANC’s Oliver Tambo
Think he’s some kind of African Rambo?
Well, he jolly well aint,
With his Black Power taint
That man’s naught but an uppity Sambo!
There was once an old fellow who lived in a tub
Disdainful of wine, women, song and good grub,
But when offered shares
In BT, he said: Where’s
My cheque book? such easy dosh I cannot snub!
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
A self-employed shyster, Adoko,
Whose pleadings are rather a joke-o,
Is now in the pit
Branded vexatious lit’,
After driving a High Court judge cocoa.
It’s well known the great Alekhine
In his personal life was not fine,
But when he contemplated,
The game levitated:
His combinations were divine.
[The above was first published in CHESS POST, Issue No. 235, Vol 42, No. 4 September 2004, page 243 under Readers’ Letters.]
A lovely young maiden named Dowler
Was kidnapped, and she didn’t howl, ’er;
Silent carried away,
Now this September day
I’m informed that she looks rather foul, ’er.
September 20, 2002
There’s a fellow called Ob from Nigeria,
Whose gob is distinctly superior,
Which is rather good luck,
For his brain’s full of muck
Of a kind that’s distinctly inferior.
January 29, 1985
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks as On A Gentleman I Used To Know, But Will, For Obvious Reasons, Remain Nameless.]
A black man who’s just battered a blond
Is a folk hero over The Pond,
For the black man is Ray,
(Sweet as Sugar, they say),
And the blond is one Donny Lalonde.
Adultery isn’t a sin,
But if you fuck Kimberly Quinn,
While Home Secretary,
You’d better be wary,
You might have to pack the job in.
Said a medium fellow named Home:
“From thin air I’ll make in this room
A ghostly apport.”
“Yes”, came the retort,
“When the lights are turned out, I presume!”
There is a magician named Blaine
Who stood on a plinth in the rain;
His tricks are real clever,
But baby you’ll never
Convince me he isn’t insane.
Dave Blunkett is one of a kind,
But one thing that puzzles my mind,
You don’t need be very
Smart to secretary,
But how does he type if he’s blind?
There was once a young psycho named Gein
Both a fiend and a cannibal. Swine!
Who said: “Yes, it is vile
To be a necrophile,
But I find fucking corpses just fine!”
Many claims have been made for reception
Of extra sen-sory perception,
But of those who aren’t bent,
Fully ninety per cent
Can be traced to naïve self-deception.
There was an ex-boxer named Bruno
Who’s not brain of Britain, as you know,
But recently he
Has been going loon-y,
As all members of his old crew know.
October 20, 2003
There was a con-man named Ski-Adam,
Who said: Your believing me, Madam,
And buying books
From this most bare-faced of crooks
Makes me rich, (and you know that they’re mad ’em).
There was a bloke named IDS
Who said: “Though this party’s a mess,
My apathy is
So great for this bus-
I-ness, that I couldn’t care less”.
Velikovsky the euhemerist
Must be daft as a brush to insist
That Venus collided
With Mars and then glided
To where to this day it persist’.
Or perhaps the poor fellow was drunk,
Or as mad as an old Tsarist monk,
For when one analyses
His weirdo surmises
And theories, they’re shown up as bunk!
But the men with a sci’ntific yen
Won themselves little credit back then,
By the paranoid treatment
They gave to his statement,
Suppressing the works of his pen.
Still, we’ve come to expect men of science
To insist on the total compliance
Of the comm-un-i-ty
With the way that they see
Laws and theories: God help the defiants!
For it seems that religion has not
Quite a total monopoly got
Of the bigoted type
Who de-pre-cate as tripe
The less orthodox reasoning lot.
Because science is an oligarchy,
And the scientists are despots who see
Every man in the street
As outside the elite
If he hasn’t an honours degree.
But they’re nice people, and I don’t jest
When I say they’ve more brains than the rest,
As have all our dictators,
And like all dictators
They know who is right and what’s best.
There was a magician named Randi
Who said: Uri Geller’s a dandy,
He always can bend
Spoons and forks, but, my friend,
Only when a magician’s not handy.
John Leslie a rapist? May-be,
But what is a near certain-ty,
Is that Ulrika J,
Game, or unwilling lay,
Has fucked his career in TV.
Said a learnéd historian, Oates:
I take utmost care of my quotes,
And don’t force my minions
To share my opinions
By shoving my views down their throats.
(Unlike Ludovic Kennedy).
Billy Shakespeare a writer was who
Was a genius, Milton was too,
But the brightest young men
With a yen
For the pen
Are the Japs – they’ve the greatest hai-ku!
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There is queer fellow named Jacko,
Regarded by all as a whacko,
He owns lots of toys,
And he sleeps with young boys,
And he’s not sure if he’s white or black-o.
There was an old woman named Roper
Who said: My girl married a groper
Who thought it a jape
To fondle and rape,
Now he’s doing six years – a no-hoper.
There was a young lady named Sloan,
Who went to the coppers to moan:
“A victim of rape!”
She cried, then agape
Looked on, as in clink she was thrown.
Said a learnéd philosopher, Kurtz:
Atheism is something that hurts;
I’d like to live forever,
Alas, I will never;
Death is everyman’s just desserts.
Said a Ufo researcher named Klass:
There are no little green men, alas,
And strange lights in the sky
Can play tricks on the eye,
And so can George Adamski, the ass!
The truth is, the psychic detective
Is quite useless and ineffective,
That crimes are solved by
Such con men, I’ll deny,
The evidence for...is defective.
A terrible blight is this SARS,
It kills old folk, kids, and their ma’s,
Hong Kong’s in the thick,
But the Chinks aren’t as sick
As the vectors of filth in gay bars.
There was once a young author, Lomax
Who said: “J. Bamber I’ll never axe,
For he’s not guilty, though
I can’t see how ’tis so,
But I plead: Don’t confuse me with facts!”
There once was a doctor named Freud,
Who was probably mad, paranoid,
To him, always sex
Was a problem, a hex,
A thing to be cured, not enjoyed.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was a strange fellow named Ted
Who bashed young girls over the head,
They fried sicko Bundy
The day after Monday,
And folk rejoiced that he was dead.
The limerick form may not be
Quite the purest or best poetry,
But at least it’s not full
(Like some stanzas) of bull,
And didactical pomposity.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
It’s well known the Marshall Attack
Is very aggressive for black,
But first time ’twas played,
Capa’, bold, unafraid,
Grabbed the pawn and gave Marshall a whack.
[The above was first published in CHESS POST, Issue No. 235, Vol 42, No. 4 September 2004, page 243 under Readers’ Letters.]
There was once a young fellow named Icke
Who said: People can think what they like –
I’m the Prophet of God
And a wealthy young sod,
So I don’t care if they take the mike.
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
There was an old slapper, Ulrika,
A well-known publicity seeker,
Who turned men quite pale
When she swallowed her ale
With one fell swig from a pint beaker.
A kiss May be bliss, But there’s more (Of that I’m sure), To true love than this.
There was a queer loved a bloke, Bosie,
And all in the garden was rosey,
Or so Oscar thought
Till he wound up in court,
And then life for him no more was cosey.
There once was a writer named Wilde,
Whose sexual habits weren’t mild,
In fact they’d appear
To be shockingly queer,
For a nobleman’s son he defiled.
The Marquis, he sent Wilde a note:
To the sodomite Oscar, he wrote.
Oscar Wilde sued for libel,
But soon got an eyeful,
And backed down against the old goat.
Shortly afterwards came his arrest,
And poor Oscar was surely distressed
When sentenced to do
Hard labour for two
Long years as Her Majesty’s guest.
On release from his punishment place,
He departed in shame and all haste,
Thus, hard up and exiled
Did poor Oscar Wilde
Spend the rest of his life in disgrace.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was an old Jewess named Geller,
A very astute Israel seller,
But she couldn’t fool
With her hate Islam school
Either me or that Finkelstein fella.
Said an ancient astronomer named Patrick Moore:
At one time of a night I’d see clusters galore,
But of late I can’t spy
With my unaided eye
More than twenty; my vision with age has grown poor.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was once an unfortunate fella
Who survived his wife’s arsenic paella,
Then went out and bought
A chicken pie, caught,
And dropped dead from a bad salmonella.
There was a bald faggot named Pim,
In Holland, went out on a limb,
Now he’s been shot dead,
Gunned down by a red:
The left didn’t think much of him.
Said the Member for Billericay
To Tom Robinson: What can I say?
You’re a brave little cunt,
It takes plenty of front
To both sing and be glad to be gay.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
Said a butch queer: “Please don’t be offended
When we have it off, if I’m unbended,
For if I weren’t so broke,
I’d not go with a bloke,
(And I won’t when my dildo is mended).”
Do you think it’s because I’m a bore
That I listen to Radio Four?
True, it isn’t much fun,
Unlike Radio One,
But it’s quality isn’t as poor.
There was a young lady named Leigh,
Who ate ravioli for tea,
At least that’s what it seemed,
But Victoria screamed:
“It tasted like spider to me!”
I hope you will not think me rude,
If I say Donald did not collude,
With Vladimir P,
For it seems like to me
It was Hillary C...
And her dude!
The above was published as a YouTube comment and on Twitter, October 28, 2017 (without the ellipsis).
There was this vegetarian lawyer
An eccentric named Reginald Goya,
Who would eat only greens,
Baked and harricot beans,
Wholemeal bread, and occas’nally, soya.
A dirty old junkie named Davis
Has a face that’s all covered with scabies,
And an unshaven chin,
And a Mexican grin
Like a chimp in the last stage of rabies.
He hangs around with an old hippie,
Who is almost as slimy and slippy
As his Mexican pal,
But at least, unlike Al,
Mr Rochford’s polite, and not lippy.
Now Davis was once a song writer,
And now and again he’s a fighter,
But he only fights wimps,
(Short moustachioed blimps),
Cos he’s really a cowardly blighter.
He plays just a little backgammon,
And he worships the Big H and Mammon,
But he’s useless at chess,
When he’s beaten, he says:
“My opponents were lucky, so damn ’em!”
He’s so fascinated by queers,
That he’s latently homo, one fears,
For he talks of Boy George,
And of filling his gorge;
It’s enough to reduce one to tears.
But Davis is not a bad fellow,
He treats me most kindly and mellow,
Cos he knows I’m a smasher,
Bad Bernard the Basher,
And he isn’t just scabby, he’s yellow.
December 31, 1984
[For explanation, click here.]
If my limericks you don’t like,
I would suggest: Dude, on yer bike!
The kill file is there
For all you who care
My anapaest ravings to spike.
There was a young fellow named Carey,
A passive, recipient fairy,
Who failed at blackmail
When his anal rape tale
Was found by the cops to be airy.
There was an old man of Iraq
Who said: “Things don’t look quite so black
Now that Tony Blair
Has had his heart scare,
Pity ’twas not a full blown attack!”
October 20, 2003
If you should see something you want
But you’re hard up, there’s no need to rant,
Just say: Fair enough,
I’ll buy it soon, though
As things stand at the moment, I can’t.
This guy screwed a virginal chick,
He thought he was one clever dick,
He may well have been,
But the chick was fifteen,
Now this clever dick is in the nick!
There was a young fellow named Seth,
Was faux robbed and then shot to death,
“A warning from me”
She said, silently:
“You don’t mess with Lady Macbeth!”
There was a punk rocker named Sid,
He made a few records, and quid,
His girfriend, he done in,
His life was in ru-in,
So he thought he’d goof off – and he did!
There was an old bloke, Skepticool,
Who, noted for pulling his tool,
Dared tell me to jiggle
A verse with a wiggle,
So I replied: Don’t be a fool!
When a girl who lived near Crystal Palace
Told a friend she regarded with malice
Her new neighbour: “Old goat,
I’d slit open his throat”.
Her friend said: “You’re a wicked cunt, Alice!”
When a dirty old homo called Martin
Ate some onions, he couldn’t stop fartin’,
Till a spade stuck his pump
Up the nancy boy’s rump,
Now poor Martin’s not fartin’ but smartin’.
Said an eel to a fish: It does seem
Rather strange seeing you swim upstream,
When salmon do this
There’s nothing amiss,
But you’re not one of them, you’re a bream!
There was an old woman named Gable
Whose husband told many a fable,
But she didn’t care,
For he growled like a bear,
And on Friday nights always was able.
The study of things psychological,
Would be ever so less scatological,
And the anal complex
Not continue to vex
If S. Freud were declared,
To be ment’lly impaired,
And his work were compared
With the great Kapital
As pompous, banal,
And in total, quite nonsensological.
There was a bloke from New Jer-sey
Who fancied a squirrel for tea,
But now he’s in court
I heard from a report
That was filed by a lady named Leigh.
There is a young fellow named Steve,
So gullible he will believe
Anything of the Feds,
And the government’s heads,
Of his senses he has taken leave.
There was a young fellow, Steve K,
Was told that Bill Clinton was gay;
“Yes, of course”, he replied,
For Slick Willy denied
That he was, so he must be that way!
Said an off-beat chef: “When you review
My new book, please don’t mention the stew,
Which includes sweet potato,
Brown rice, squid, tomato,
And pickled rump steak of gnu”.
There’s a flat-chested scrubber named Sue,
Ugly feet, and her teeth are bad, too,
I don’t know her real name,
Nor what kind of weird game
She was playing, but wow, could she screw!
There was a punk rocker named Sid,
He made a few records, and quid,
His girfriend, he done in,
His life was in ru-in,
So he thought he’d goof off – and he did!
When a girl who lived near Crystal Palace
Told a friend she regarded with malice
Her new neighbour: “Old goat,
I’d slit open his throat”.
Her friend said: “You’re a wicked cunt, Alice!”
There was a young lady named Dux,
Who said: “These imag’nary fux
Do not make my skin crawl –
When celebrities fall,
It’s us shysters who rake in the bux.”
When a dirty old homo called Martin
Ate some onions, he couldn’t stop fartin’,
Till a spade stuck his pump
Up the nancy boy’s rump,
Now poor Martin’s not fartin’ but smartin’.
Said an eel to a fish: It does seem
Rather strange seeing you swim upstream,
When salmon do this
There’s nothing amiss,
But you’re not one of them, you’re a bream!
The study of things psychological,
Would be ever so less scatological,
And the anal complex
Not continue to vex
If S. Freud were declared,
To be ment’lly impaired,
And his work were compared
With the great Kapital
As pompous, banal,
And in total, quite nonsensological.
Said an off-beat chef: “When you review
My new book, please don’t mention the stew,
Which includes sweet potato,
Brown rice, squid, tomato,
And pickled rump steak of gnu”.
There once was a fellow named Heath,
Was renowned for his Cheshire Cat teeth,
But when he passed away
They said: “Ted Heath was gay
And his buggering boys makes us seethe.”
An accountant from Glasgow named Mac
Told his client: It must be a hack
For your company is
Doing excellent bus-
Iness – and should be well in the black.
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line as The Glasgow Accountant]
Was a teenager from the Aleutians
In his trousers made awful pollutions,
For it seems that his Mum
Never trained her young son
In the proper use of the ablutions.
Said a bank teller named J.B. Rhine
To a customer: “You thieving swine,
I don’t need ESP to divine
That you’ve stolen that cheque”,
And grabbed him by the neck,
“Cos that signature’s bloody well mine!”
Said a clergyman’s daughter from Ealing,
“Being raped was a horrible feeling,
But the acts of the press
Caused me mental distress
Of a kind that was no more appealing.”
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was once a young fellow named Moss
Who said: Do this to minimise loss –
Back up all that you write,
Run chkdsk every night
And save files when you exit to DOS.
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
There was once a young housewife of Cowes,
Who was contemptuous of her vows,
Till her husband found out,
Gave the hussy a clout,
And for weeks they had terrible rows.
There was once a decorative ponce
Who designed cards in several fonts
To advertise whores
To perform dirty chores
And satisfy old fellows’ wants.
There was once a young man who said: Swimming
Is an excellent method of slimming,
But a far quicker way
To lose weight if you’re gay
Is to practice fellatio and rimming!
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
There was a young lady named Pat,
Who said: Oh I do so love scat,
But the first guy she saw
Said: You vile, depraved whore,
I’d have to be sick to do that.
There was a young lady named Pat,
Who said: Oh I do so love scat,
I don’t give two fucks
For the pricks of young bucks,
But I like them to shit in my twat.
When a dirty old doctor from Beckenham
Told twin girls with VD he was checkin’ ’em,
They replied: “Doctor do
But be careful that you
Don’t catch gonn when you’re stickin’ your peck in ’em”.
There was once a queer doctor from Putney
Who advised a young man that his cut knee
Would heal better if treated
With poultice of heated
Asparagus powder and chutney.
There was a charming lady doctor by the name of Phoebe
Who said: “My homo patients make me realise how clean we be,
They fuck each other up the bum,
Eat shit, drink piss and suck on cum,
And they’re infested with AIDS, gonorrhoea and amoebae.”
Was a dealer in H from Montana
At the airport was stopped at a scanner,
Not because the dope showed
(For he had it well stowed),
But because of his jittery manner.
There was once a drunken driver from the State of Alabama,
Who came up before a circuit judge who said: “I’m gonna hammer
You for knocking down a ranger,
You’re most certainly a danger
To the public, so you’re gonna serve a seven in the slammer”.
Was a fellow of Ness, name of Jock
Whose proud boast was: The size of my cock
Is far bigger than
That of any man
Or of anything found in the Loch!
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
A feminist cunt of Nantucket,
Aborted herself in a bucket,
And when she flushed the sprog
Still alive down the bog,
She simply yawned and said "Who cares?"
A delightful girl from Aberystwyth
Told her boyfriend: “I’ve two lips to kiss with,
And until we are wed
You’ll stay out of my bed,
For my fanny is strictly to piss with.”
There’s a charming your lass of Andorra,
Who at night was a terrible snorer,
So say David and Gary,
Les, Tom, Dick and Harry,
They know that because they all bore ’er.
There was a young girl, a Norwegian,
Went to bed with a kinky Glaswegian,
She said to him, “Jock,
Whyever’s your cock
Exploring my nethermost region?”
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
It’s often been said, on a rim
A knight looks incredibly dim,
But on a strong square
Like Q5, have a care:
Your good bishop is no match for him.
[The above was first published in CHESS POST, Issue No. 235, Vol 42, No. 4 September 2004, page 243 under Readers’ Letters.]
The nationalised industries’ profits
Have for many years been in the red,
For these poor overstafféd Miss Moffets
Have been fleeced from the tail to the head
By the overtime racket
Which boosts the pay packet
Of ev-e-ry blue collar worker,
And the perks which are lining the jacket
Of ev-e-ry white collar shirker
While the tax and rate payers are bled.
[The above was first published as A Double Limerick: The Gravy Train in A Book Of Limericks]
There was a young fellow named Ludo,
Who with his chum Eddowes played Cluedo,
At Rillington Place,
Where with a poker face
He cried: “Evans not guilty.” – The pseudo!
Said a flat-chested harlot from Eltham,
When she serviced a nigger from Feltham:
“Please don’t fondle my tits,
Or they might fall to bits,
And don’t breathe on them, or you might melt ’em”.
There was an old Jewess, Zisblatt
Who said: “Steven Spielberg’s a pratt;
My tale of how I
Survived Shoah’s a lie,
But the poor sap believed all of that!”
When a bashful young lad from Skegness
By the surgeon was told to undress,
He said: Spare me blush, Doc,
If you nurse sees my cock,
I will surely collapse with distress.
I like poets with vigour and zest,
Sir John Betjamin’s one of the best,
But my favourite one
Is the woman who’s done
All those limerick things: Anna Pest!
There was a young lady from Dent, Minnesota
Who claimed she was raped by a bloke in Dakota,
But Sergeant Jeff Skuza
Said: “This broad’s a boozer,
And I don’t believe her tall tale one iota”.
There was a young fellow, a plumber,
Who went for a ride with a bummer,
And cried rape, but lo,
It was not the ho-mo
Who was locked up the end of that summer!
When a young lodger staying in Reading
Made a habit of soiling his bedding,
His landlady said:
“You keep doing that, Fred,
And it’s out of this household you’re heading.”
When a longshoreman’s daughter named Paula
Went to bed with the sparks ofa trawler,
He was rough and abused
The poor girl till she bruised,
And enquired: “Must you be such a mawler?”
An Egyptian chess player, Wahed,
(Who was not really right in the head),
Lost a game easily,
Then with au-da-ci-ty
Had the nerve to say: “One move, you’re dead!”
January 18, 1985
Where fight fans are concerned, it’s true Kaylor’s
Seldom need to use mikes or loud hailers,
And it’s often been said
They despise Natty Dread,
Errol Christie, and groups like the Wailers.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
An ambitious accountant named Hodges
Who invented some clever tax dodges,
Is admired by his peers,
And for seventeen years
Has been patronised by all the lodges.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was once a rich Arab, a nasty old sheikh,
Who seduced a young peasant girl down by the lake.
“You’re as ugly as Hell!”
He chastised her, “and smell
Like a goat, so a concubine you’ll never make.”
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was an old fellow named Foster
Sent his daughter day tripping to Gloucester,
This young girl full of zest
Met a fellow named West,
And alas, now her poor father’s lost ’er.
There was once an old lesbian, Julie
Who declined to have sex with a coolie
With a tart: That’s no thrill
Fucking old Sun Chung-Kill;
I’d be much better off with some mooli!
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
There was an old man of Thermopylae
Who couldn’t get hard-ons properly,
He wanked and he spanked,
He yanked and he cranked,
But his prick would stand up only floppily.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was an old man with a beard
Who said: "It is just as I feared,
Two pheasants a-plucking,
Two turkeys a-fucking,
Two owls coughing pellets,
Two swans and two pullets
Have all of them shit in and smeared
And thoroughly dirtied my beard.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was once a pro boxer named Funches
Who delivered more letters than punches,
As Frank Bruno found out
In their ill-fated bout,
When he bombed the poor bloke with his bunches...
Of fives.
There was a young psycho from Wokingham,
Went out with two girls without poking ’em,
For neither would let ’im,
And neither would pet ’im,
Now e’s doin’ life for a-choking ’em.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There once was a Siren of Rei,
Whose methods were ever so sly,
When she asked me to slay
Her ex, I said: “No way”,
So she screamed: “Alexander, goodbye!”
February 2, 2009
There was once a skinhead from Hull,
Who thought weekends were terribly dull,
Till he found the cure-all –
Playing Sunday football
With a Paki, that is with his skull!
There once was a spinster from Jarrow
Who excited her cunt with a marrow,
When asked why, she replied:
“First a carrot, I tried,
But it fell out, for it was too narrow”.
There is an old fellow named Fred,
Who clearly is off of his head,
“I know that is true”,
Said an old Aussie Jew,
“Cos his videos fill me with dread!”
The stork stands with one leg off the ground,
A feat for which he is renowned;
He tried standing on none,
But it couldn’t be done,
As agonisingly he found!
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was once a young fellow named Goetz
Who said: I’ve been mugged, and it sure hurts.
So the next time a gang
Attacked him, it was bang!
His assailants got their just desserts.
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
There’s an Indian fellow named Sundra,
Who’s red hot at unrav’lling conundra,
But when it comes to
A cryptical clue
In the Times, he goes cold as the tundra.
Said a victim of rape, Mrs Wood:
I don’t know my assailant, but could
Tell he was a Conservative,
For ’twas superlative;
I’ve never had it so good!
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
Said a young Swedish fellow named Bjorn:
Though I once had a penchant for brawn
I gave up eating meat
And instead now I eat
Vegeburger, cheese, tofu and Quorn.
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
Said a trainee inspector from FAST
The crime of software piracy’s nast-
Y, but I’m glad it’s here
Because one thing is clear:
My new job’s better paid than the last!
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line as A FAST One.]
Said two Kenyans who bought an Atari
(A laptop): Lucky young fellows are we
Because ten years ago
We could never, you know
Take a hard disk and fax on safari.
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
There was a very lovely lady who when staying at the coast
Received an intimate suggestion from the cousin of her host.
“You’d like to do what?” she replied,
“Well then, we’d better go outside,
Cos though I like to drink and dance, it’s oral sex I love the most.”
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
He found jerking off so appealing,
A curious, orgasmic feeling,
That he lay on the floor,
Hit the fireplace, the door,
The window sill, wardrobe and ceiling.
When a whore from Australia, Sheila,
Went to bed with a big City dealer
She told the rich gent
It’d cost a week’s rent
If he wanted to do more than feel ’er.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
When a whore from Australia, Sheila
Went to bed with a big City dealer
As she gave him a gob
They were caught on the job;
“Christ,” he said, “not another Chris Keeler!”
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
In Ipswich there lived a young whore,
Who went for a ride with a bore,
A fat bloke named Wright,
Alas that was last night –
And I don’t think we’ll see her no more!
There was this businesswoman from Staines
Who by hard work made capital gains,
Of a night she’d report
For work at the airport
Where she’d service the crews of the planes.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was a young fellow called Mottingley
Who said: I saw fairies in Cottingley.
I’ve no doubt he did,
But alas the poor kid
Is now in a nuthouse in Knottingley.
There was once a young fellow from Gillingham, Kent,
Who when having it off with a girl in a tent
Said: I doubt if you’ll come,
Cos I’m fucking your bum,
But she liked being buggered, so wouldn’t relent.
There was once a young fellow named Grubba
Who went out with a dirty old Scrubber
And wisely said: If
I want to avoid syph’,
When I fuck her I’d best use a rubber.
A depressive young fellow named Kruger
Contemplated the end with a Luger
In his hand, but had not
The courage, so got
On a ferry, the one from Zeebrugge!
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
A well-built young fellow of Stoke
Told a whore that he wanted a poke
Fellatio fashion,
And gave her a ration
That made her cough, splutter and choke.
There was once a young fellow of Turkey
Whose sexual habits were murky,
For he buggered a pig
In the back of a Mig,
And was known ever after as ’Perky.’
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was a young girl of Manchester
Who assaulted a fellow from Leicester,
And she fractured the skull
Of a salesman from Hull
At a dance, just because he carressed ’er.
There was a young girl of Tahiti
Who dreamed of the star Warren Beaty.
“Wishful thinking, my lass,”
Said her man, “cos your ass
Ain’t gonna get screwed by that sweetie.”
There was once a young girl of Uttoxeter
Who laced her Mum’s food with hemlocks at a
Local church fete,
The poison she ate,
Dropped dead, and a hungry old fox ate ’er.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was once a young girl of Uttoxeter
Who took on the touring Springboks at a
Rugby event
In an old marquee tent,
And they each caught a dose of the pox off ’er.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was once a young lady from ASH
Who said: “Though passive smoking is trash
I’ve no sense of shame,
So to hell with Chris Tame!
It’s Nanny who coughs up my cash.”
There was once a young lady from Bedford named Pratt
Whose ménagè a trois practiced oral and scat;
One lover would poke
In her mouth, t’other bloke
Would sit on and shit on her twat.
There was a young lady from Brighton,
Went to bed with a fella called Knighton,
She said to him: Freddie,
I’ll never be ready
As long as you won’t turn the light on.
He told her: You silly old clucker,
You must think this Freddy’s a trucker!
He stood on the mat,
His libido went flat,
Now how could be possibly sleep?
He turned on the light and said: Missy,
You’re really an exhibitissy!
Please Fredi, don’t be mad,
For it isn’t so bad,
Come here love, and I’ll give you a kissy.
He went back to bed with the light on,
With his missy, the lady from Brighton,
They both got down to it,
And Fred didn’t rue it,
Cos Knighton had found him a right ’un.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
Ther was a young lady of Pimlico,
Who, to put it midly, was dim-lico,
For a month she ate nought
Except bread, and drank stout,
In an effort – she told me – to slim-lico.
There was a young lady from Slough,
Who as soon as she’d taken her vow,
Had it off with her groom
On the top of a tomb
In the churchyard, the randy old cow.
The vicar said: “What a disgrace!
’Tis a sacrilege here in this place”.
But the groom was quite willing,
And said: “It’s so thrilling
To lie on a slab and embrace.”
There was a young lady from Stoke,
Who sorely in need of a poke,
Said: “Surely you jest,
That bloke in a blue vest?
I wouldn’t fuck him, he’s a joke!”
October 27, 2015
When a charming young lady from Tchad
Was seduced by a public school cad,
She said: “Mr Carruthers,
I’ve just told my brothers”,
To which he replied: “What? Egad!”
There was once a young lady of Penge
Who was raped on a trip to Stonehenge
By her druidic guide
Who is thought to have died
When she bit off his nose in revenge.
(Actually, it wasn’t his nose).
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was a young maiden of Jeddah
Whose tight-fisted parents ne’er fed ’er
On curry and rice
Or anything nice,
For main course she had bread and cheddar.
Brixton, 1997
There was a young man from Al Qeida
Who dive bombed his father’s hang glider,
But ’twas not Jihad
Killed the lad, said his Dad,
It was twelve pints of Olde Englishe cider!
There was once a young man of Baghdad
Told his friend: “Ali, I wish I had
Not an Aladdin’s lamp,
(Too old-fashioned and camp),
But an equally wondrous Amstrad!”
There was a young man of Brasilia
Whose hobby was gerontophilia,
Till his partner dropped dead,
“I guess now,” he said,
“I’ll have to take up necrophilia.”
There was a young man of Japan
Told his doctor: “I need a brain scan,
Because I can’t crap
Unless I take a nap,”
But the doc’ just prescribed him some bran.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was once a young man of Penang
Who joined up with an arbitrage gang,
He was big in the City
Until, more’s the pity,
He lost all his dough in Big Bang.
There was once a young man of Rwanda
Who had sex with a pig and a panda.
I don’t believe you.
I’ve got photographs too!
Have you really? Well, let’s have a gander!
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
There was once a young man of the Bank,
Who thought it was some kind of a prank
When the screens went all red –
It’s Black Monday! they said;
When he realised the truth, his heart sank.
There was once a young man of Zaire
Who said: Though I’ve got AIDS, I’m not queer,
For we have an aversion
To white man’s perversion,
And rimming just isn’t done here.
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line]
There was a young man of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch,
Who said: If you can find
A word with that to rhyme,
You’re a better man than I’m!
Click here for details.
There was a young lady named Milly,
Who did something fatally silly,
Accepted a lift
From a fiend on the grift:
Levi Bellfield – now she’s dead, poor filly.
There was a young lady, Amanda,
With wide eyes as big as a panda,
But ’twas not her eyes
On the prowl, but Levi’s
And for her, that was one fatal gander!
There was a young lady who got off a train
Met her friends in the rail caff, then walked down the lane,
But on the way home,
A fiend like that from So’am
Grabbed her, and poor Amanda was not seen again.
Well, her skeleton was.
A young man who owned a fazenda
Was known to be ever so tenda
With a person from Rio,
A choirboy named Leo!
In Brazil he’s what’s known as a benda.
There was a yonng fellow, Tim Pool,
Who said: “I don’t trust as a rule,
Buzzfeed, CNN, Vox –
On their houses a pox!
Unlike Don Le-mon, I’m not a fool.”
July 7, 2021
Will you kindly tell Michèle Renouf
That her friend David Irving’s a poof?
And when she says “That’s sick”
Tell her contact Old Nick,
He received irrefutable proof.
There was a young lady named Lee,
Who said of Rolf Harris with glee:
“He was creepy for sure
And I’ll say a lot more –
For a guaranteed 5 figure fee!”
There is a young girl named Teriba,
Who’s certainly no Queen of Sheba,
With a ring through her nose,
She strikes an odd pose,
And has too the brains of an amoeba.
November 28, 2015
There was a bloke named Troy South-gate,
Who was said to work for The State,
By an anarchist twat,
I can-not credit that,
You have got to be joking, old mate!
There was a young lady, Tryphina,
Who worked in a home as a cleaner,
Till she went with unholy
Young Moses Sithole,
And since then nobody has seen ’er.
There was a young lady, Joanna,
Had no need for a wedding planner,
Nor for any cock;
She expired with a sock
Round her neck in a most brutal manner.
There was an old fellow named Chris,
Who said: The Filth’s taking the piss,
Arresting me for
The murder of poor
Miss Yeates; I’d ne’er do ought like this.
There once was a gunman named Moat,
Who shook the Old Bill like a stoat,
Alas, he’s now done
With his own trusty gun
And a hole in his head ’bove his throat.
There once was a bouncer named Raoul
Who lost his rag, went on the prowl
For eight days until
Caught up by the Old Bill
He went out with a bang and a scowl.
It was on the good ship Venus,
O Christ, you should’ve seen us,
We wapped the wops,
Came out on tops,
And captured the Malvinas!
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
If you’re thinking of joining the Front,
You must qualify, and, to be blunt,
You most certainly will
If you’re mentally ill,
Or a sadist, or some sort of div.
It does help if you’re young, hard and white,
Even if you’re unwilling to fight,
For it may well be that
Some Directorate cat
Will adopt you as his cata-mite!
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
Said a National Front skinhead called Jack:
“I’m not one to look down on a black,
For there’s no Master Race,
Every man in his place,
(Which for niggers means sending ’em back)”.
There’s an Israeli named Uri Geller
Who I’ve heard is a tall story teller,
I don’t known if that’s true,
But this wily young Jew
Is undoubtedly one clever feller.
There was a weird fellow named Vince
Who claimed he was given a mince
Pie by a girl, Jo,
And as far as we know
She hasn’t been seen alive since.
Peter Walker, when asked about Thatcher:
Don’t you think that you Party should scratch ’er?
’Stead of biting his lip.
Came out with a nice quip:
If the IRA only would snatch ’er...
I wouldn’t pay the ransom.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
Said an Israeli general called Mike:
It’s untrue that we Jews are war-like,
Though we often react
Just before we’re attacked
With what’s known as a pre-emptive strike!
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
There was once an old man in a tree
Who was stung on the prick by a bee,
He asked an old lady:
Such out the ma-lady,
And got done for inde-cency.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
Why can’t I grow a beard?
It’s more than daft, it’s weird,
I’m twenty-eight,
It’s more than late
Or overdue, I’m feared.
A bit of fuzz would suit
A face like mine, old fruit,
The damn thing though
Just will not grow,
Or even spring to root.
Could be deficiency
Vitamin A or B,
Or some such thing,
It’s bothering
And really worr’ing me.
Perhaps I shouldn’t fret,
Or worry or regret,
For middle age
Will not engage
A man who’s beardless yet.
Yes! That must be the truth,
In body I’m a youth,
A latter day
Dorian Gray
Who’ll ne’er grow long in tooth.
Egad! That’s mighty clever,
For as long as I never
Do sprout a growth
That means I’ll both
Stay young and live forever!
There was a researcher named Klass
Who said: Flying saucers? My ass!
They only exist
When people are pissed,
Or high sniffing coke, glue or gas.
There was an old fellow named Fry
Who said: ’Tis no word of a lie,
I met aliens who
Were a saucer ship’s crew,
And they took me right up in the sky.
When cops raided a house (not a Barratt),
And assaulted a woman named Jarret,
Who was ever so fat,
She dropped dead on the mat,
And the streets began flowing with claret.
[The above was first published in A Book Of Limericks]
Said a mathematician to me:
There’s a number that isn’t quite three
That goes on forever,
And if you are clever
You’ll know it, but what can it be?
I said: Obviously, it’s pi,
But I saw by the look in his eye,
I was wrong – It is e!
The old sod said with glee,
You are not half as clever as I!
The pronunciation of months,
Down the years has corrupted to munce,
By all except teachers
(Those eloquent creatures),
Who say: If you munce, you’re a dunce!
[The above was first published in Limericks On-Line as Wrong Time, Way Of The Month.]
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