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Chaste limericks
Mannersmore_vert

There was a young lady from Tottenham

Whose manners... well, she had forgotten 'em

At tea at the vicar's

She wipped off her knickers

Exclaiming she felt far too hot in 'em.


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Stay classymore_vert

While browsing museums in France,

I gave their exhibits a glance.

My kindly advise

Is those paintings are nice,

But the statues are needing some pants.


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Her assmore_vert

There once was a lass from Madras

Who had a magnificent ass.

It was not what you think,

Soft and rounded and pink,

But was gray, had long ears, and ate grass.


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Tourette's Syndromemore_vert

There was a man with Tourette's

CUNT!

...

...

...


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Furtive and meanmore_vert

The limerick is furtive and mean.

You must keep her in close quarantine,

Else she sinks to the slums

And promptly becomes

Disorderly, drunk, and obscene.


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Censored limerickmore_vert

Bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep

Bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep BLEEP

Bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep -

The bleep bleep bleep bleep

Bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep fucksticks.


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Fourth linemore_vert

There was a man from Australia

Who regarded his limericks as a failure

They used to be fine,

Until the fourth line

...


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Line twomore_vert

There was a man from Peru

Whose limericks ended on line 2

...

...

...


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Miley Cyrusmore_vert

There once was a girl, Miley Cyrus

Who used her tongue to inspire us

I don't get her plans

Said her critics and her fans

But I hope she dosen't desire us


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On John Ciardimore_vert

To make friends with the lumpish John Ciardi

Needs a spirit uncouth, rough, and hardy.

When in line for a bit

Of amusement and wit—

Did he get it? Why, no, he was tardy.


by Isaac Asimov


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Callous and crudemore_vert

The limerick is callous and crude,

It's language distressingly lewd;

It's not worth reading

By persons of breeding

It's for us vulgar and rude


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She is so dopemore_vert

Upon high Olympus, great Zeus

Muttered angrily, “Oh, what the deuce!

It takes spiced ambrosia

To get the nymphs cosier

And Hera supplies grapefruit juice.”


by Isaac Asimov


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A social bequestmore_vert

The once-steemed Lady Hortense

Contracted from one of our gents

A social bequest

She passed on to the best

With what we feel was malice prepense.


by Isaac Asimov


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Abhorrencemore_vert

There was a young lady of Florence

Who could not abide D. H. Lawrence

When invited by Frieda

To follow the leader

She expressed what is best called abhorrence.


by Isaac Asimov


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A leopardessmore_vert

There once was a leopardess, Dot,

Who indignantly answered: "I’ll not!

The gents are impressed

With the way that I’m dressed.

I wouldn’t change even one spot!"


by Michael Ray Burch


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Line threemore_vert

There once was a fella from Dundee

Whose limericks always ended on line three

I don't know why

...

...


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Toilet seatmore_vert

What's the deal with this toilet-seat crap?

If we don't put it up, there's a flap.

Leave it up, and we get,

A new lecture yet.

Either way, we'll be in for a rap.


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The limerickmore_vert

The Limerick form's not complex

It's usually crude dealing mainly with sex,

It burgeons with virgins,

Full of female type urgins'

And all sorts of filthy effects.


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John Smith Companymore_vert

A man hired by John Smith and Co.

Loudly declared that he'd tho.

Men that he saw

Dumping dirt near his door

The drivers, therefore, didn't do.


by Mark Twain


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Long novelsmore_vert

Our novels get longa and longa

Their language gets stronga and stronga

There's much to be said

For a life that is led

In illiterate places like Bonga.


by H G Wells


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A man from Nantucket IIImore_vert

Of this story we hear from Nantucket,

About the mysterious loss of a bucket,

We are sorry for Nan,

As well as the man

The cash and the bucket, Pawtucket.


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A man from Nantucket IImore_vert

Then the pair followed Pa to Manhasset

Where he still held the cash as an asset,

But Nan and the man

Stole the money and ran,

And as for the bucket, Manhasset.


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A man from Nantucket Imore_vert

There once was a man from Nantucket

Who kept all his cash in a bucket.

But his daughter, named Nan,

Ran awa with a man

And as for the bucket, Nantucket


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An old man from Japanmore_vert

There was an old man of Japan

Who could never get limericks to scan,

And when they asked him why,

He replied, with a sigh,

Well you see it's because I always try and get as many words in the last line as I possibly can.


by Salman Rushdie


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A Shakespearean actormore_vert

In a midsummer night, playing puck,

A Shakespearean actor got stuck.

But as he'd never heard,

Of this four letter word,

He remarked "what bad luck!"


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On Kim Kardashianmore_vert

The marriage of poor Kim Kardashian

Was krushed like a kar in a krashian.

Her Kris kried, "Not Fair!

Why kan't I keep my share?"

But Kardashian fell klean outa fashian


by Salman Rushdie


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A bathermore_vert

A bather whose clothing was strewed

By winds that left her quite nude,

Saw a man come along

And unless I am wrong,

You expect this line to be lewd.


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A lion is fiercemore_vert

His teeth can pierce

The skin of postman's knee.

It serves him right

That, because of his bite,

He get no letter you see.


by Spike Milligan


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A fly and fleamore_vert

A flea and a fly in a flue,

Were imprisoned, so what could they do?

Said the fly, "let us flee!"

"Let us fly!" said the flea.

So they flew through a flaw in the flue.


by Ogden Nash


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A belle of Natchezmore_vert

There was a young belle of old Natchez,

Whose garments were always in patchez.

When comments arose,

On the state of her clothes,

She replied, "When Ah itchez, Ah scratchez."


by Ogden Nash


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A pelicanmore_vert

A wonderful bird is the pelican;

His beak can hold more than his beli-can.

He can hold in his beak,

Enough food for a week,

Though I’m damned if I know how the heli-can!


by Dixon Lanier Merritt


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An engine drivermore_vert

There was an engine driver named Hunt,

Who was given an engine to shunt,

Saw a runaway truck,

By yelling out "duck,"

Saved the life of the fella in front.


by Christopher Hitchens


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The Waste Land Vmore_vert

No water. Dry rocks and dry throats,

Then thunder, a shower of quotes,

From the Sanskrit and Dante.

Da. Damyata. Shantih.

I hope you'll make sense of the notes.


by Wendy Cope


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The Waste Land IVmore_vert

A Phoenician named Phlebas forgot,

About birds and his business--the lot,

Which is no surprise,

Since he'd met his demise,

And been left in the ocean to rot.


by Wendy Cope


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The Waste Land IIImore_vert

The Thames runs, bones rattle, rats creep,

Tiresias fancies a peep,

A typist is laid,

A record is played,

Wei la la. After this it gets deep.


by Wendy Cope


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The Waste Land IImore_vert

She sat on a mighty fine chair,

Sparks flew as she tidied her hair,

She asks many questions,

I make few suggestions,

Bad as Albert and Lil--what a pair!


by Wendy Cope


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A mathematicianmore_vert

A mathemathician named Hall,

Had a hexahedronical ball,

The cube of its weight,

Times his pecker, plus eight,

Is his phone number - give him a call!


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The Waste Land Imore_vert

In April one seldom feels cheerful,

Dry stones, sun and dust make me fearful,

Clairvoyantes distress me,

Commuters depress me,

Met Stetson and gave him an earful.


by Wendy Cope


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