There once was a wife from Nantucket.........

A bather whose clothing was strewed
By winds that had left her quite nude
Saw a man come along,
And unless I am wrong,
You expected this line to be lewd.

The limerick's callous and crude,
It's morals distressingly lewd.
It's not worth the reading
By persons of breeding;
It's designed for us vulgar and rude!

There was a young lady named Rood,
Who was such an absolute prude
That she pulled down the blind
When changing her mind
Lest a curious eye should intrude.

There once was a woman named Alice
Who used a dynamite stick as a phallus.
They found her vagina
Up in North Carolina,
And the rest of poor Alice in Dallas.

There once was a man named Mort
Whose dick was decidedly short.
When he climbed into bed
His ladyfriend said,
"That's not a dick it's a wart."

There once was a man from Kildare
Who's arse was all covered in hair.
I tried to direct him
To find his lost rectum,
So he shaved it and out fell a chair

There was a young couple named Kelly,
Who once got stuck belly to belly,
Because in their haste,
They used library paste,
Instead of petroleum jelly.

There was a young lady from France,
Who decided to take just one chance.
For an hour or so,
She just let herself go,
And now all her sisters are aunts.

There was a young lady from Maine,
Who enjoyed copulating on a train.
Not once, I maintain,
But again and again,
And again and again and again.

There was a young man from Lynn,
Whose prick was the size of a pin.
Said his girl with a laugh,
As she fondled his staff,
"This won't be much of a sin."

Rosalina, a pretty young lass,
Had a truly magnificent ass,
Not rounded and pink,
As you possibly think-
It was grey, had long ears, and ate grass.

There was an old man name Toot
Who had warts all over his root.
He put acid on these,
and now when he pees,
He fingers his root like a flute.

A Scotsman who lived by the Loch,
Had holes down the length of his cock,
When he got an erection,
He would play a selection,
From Johann Sebastian Bach.

There was a young nun from Siberia,
Endowed with a virgin interior,
Until an old monk,
Jumped into her bunk,
And now she's the Mother Superior.

There once was a lady from Ealing,
Who protested she lacked sexual feeling,
til a cynic named Boris,
Touched her Clitoris,
And the scraped her off the ceiling.

There was a young damsel named Baker,
Who was poked in a pew by a Quaker,
He yelled, "My God! What,
Do you call that -- a twat?
Why the entrance is more that an acre!"

There once was a sailor, a limey,
Who'd spend many long months on the
briney,
He searched without luck
for a girl or a duck,
And that's why his hands are so slimy.

There once w as a lady named Myrtle,
Who had an affair with a turtle.
Even more phenomenal
A swelling abdominal
Showed Myrtle the turtle was fertile.

There once was a virgin named Mable
When asked said, "I don't know if I'm able,
"But try it I dare,
"If you'll just show me where,
"On the bed or the floor or the table."

There once was a girl from Cape Cod
Who thought all blessings came from God
But it weren't the Almighty
who lifted her nighty
It was Roger the lodger by God.

In the harem the lonely girl calls
To the eunuch outside on the walls
Come in here she cried
and the eunuch replied
I would but I ain't got the balls.

There was a young man of Dundee
Who molested an ape in a tree:
The result was most horrid,
All arse and no forehead,
Three balls and a purple goatee.

There was a young plumber of Leigh
Was plumbing a young maid by the sea.
Said the maid, "Cease your plumbing,
I think someone's coming."
Said the plumber, still plumbing, "It's me."

There is a young lady named Aird
Whose bottom is always kept bared
When asked why, she pouts,
And says the Boy Scouts
All beg her to please Be Prepared.

There was a young girl of Bagoda
Who built an erotic pagoda
The walls of its halls
Were festooned with the balls
And the tools of the fools who bestrode her.

There was a young sailor named Bates
Who danced the fandango on skates,
But a fall on his cutlass
Rendered him nutless,
And utterly useless on dates.

On a maiden a man once begat
Bouncing triplets named Nat, Tat and Pat;
Twas fun in the breeding
But hell in the feeding:
For she hadn't a spare tit for tat.

While out on a date in his Fiat,
The man exclaimed, "Where is my key at?"
As he bent down to seek,
She let out a shriek.
"That's not where it's likely to be at!"

You've heard of the Bishop of Birmingham,
Well here's a new story concerning 'im.
He buggers the choir
While they sing in the aisle,
And fucks all the girls while confirming 'em.

There was a young man from Poole
Who found a red ring round his tool.
He went to the clinic
Where the doctor, a cynic,
Said, "Wash it, 'tis lipstick, you fool!"

There was a young lady from Pecking,
Who indulged in a great deal of necking.
Which seemed such a waste,
Since she claimed to be chaste,
But this statement however needs checking.

A girl who was touring Zambesi,
said: "Attracting the men is quite easy,
I don't wear any pants,
And at every chance,
I stand where it's frightfully breezy."

A chap down in Oklahoma
Had a cock that could sing La Paloma.
But the sweetness of pitch
Couldn't offset the hitch
Of impotence, size, and aroma.

Two middle-aged ladies from Fordham,
Went out for a walk, and it bored 'em;
As they made their way back,
A sex maniac
Leapt out from some trees and ignored 'em..

There was an old lady from Harrow,
Who's views were exceedingly narrow.
At the end of her paths
She built two bird baths,
For the different sexes of sparrow.

A señorita who strolled on the Corso,
Displayed quite a lot of her torso.
A crowd soon collected,
But no-one objected,
Though some were in favour of more so.

A yogi from far-off Beirut
For women did not care a hoot
But his organ would stand
In a manner quite grand
When a snake-charmer played on his flute.

There was a young fellow called Wyatt,
Who had a big girl on the quiet.
But down on the wharf
He kept a nice dwarf,
Just in case he should go on a diet.

There was a young girl of Darjeeling,
Who danced with such exquisite feeling,
There was never a sound
For miles around
Save of fly-buttons hitting the ceiling.

There was a young fellow called Lancelot,
Whom his neighbours all looked on askance
a lot.
Whenever he'd pass
A presentable lass
The front of his pants would advance a lot.

There was a young lady called Smith
Whose virtue was mostly a myth;
She said, "Try as I can,
I can't find a man
That it's fun to be virtuous with."

The limerick's callous and crude,
It's morals distressingly lewd.
It's not worth the reading
By persons of breeding;
It's designed for us vulgar and rude!

DIRTY, FILTHY LIMERICKS

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