David's Limitless Limericks (People)




People Said a ball to the Prince Baudelaire, ‘This game’s fun, but a little unfair, For whilst thou, Prince, alone, Are just heir to the throne, Alas, I am just thrown to the air!’ A hairdresser working in Birmingham, Who’s used by gay actors for permingham, Both washes and blows Their pubes before shows, For she knows there’s no danger of firmingham. To her groundsman complained Lady Bliss, ‘I suspect that there’s something amiss. These drooping hydrangeas Were praised once by strangers. Carruthers, I know where you piss!’ An ambitious young robber named Blue Stole a Concorde, but hadn’t a clue, So he went superfrantic Above the Atlantic And pierced the cruel sea at Mach 2. Once a thirty-foot Amazon boa Surprised a young chicle tree groa. He got stuck to his tree, So could only cry, “Eeeee!” And now the young groa’s no moa. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When the bark of the Amazonian chicle tree is cut, sticky white sap oozes out. It was once used for making chewing gum, which is still called chicle in South America. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A dastardly lover called Boeing Flew in and took off without slowing. His dissatisfied mate Gasped, ‘I wish you would wait To stop coming before you start going.’ Jan and Johnny, two lovers with braces, Now kissed on innocuous places, For both sought relief From the mouth-mangling grief They had suffered when joining their faces. The sad death of the wife of poor Bract On trapeze was due just to one fact: He could take no more pain, For again and again He would catch the big girl in the act. (inspired by a classic) A sewerage-farm workman named Byrd Was put out by events that occurred, For he never did choose To be sucked down by ooze, Nor remain so interred so in turd. A snooty young man of Calcutta Craved oysters with lemon and butter. He’d eat all of those Just as much as he chose When they chanced to be lying in his gutter. That snooty young man of Calcutta Developed a sus-sus-sus stutter. Both Christian and proud, He spat out aloud All the psalms in a seven-year splutter. (inspired by a classic) Like the ladies of Classical Crete, Gorgeous Grete wasn’t really discreet. With her blouses unclosed, She quite brashly exposed The bad driving of guys on her street. Mary Connor, that big prima donna, Stopped singing and said, ‘I’m not gonna!’ So the quick-thinking Gail Stamped on Puss’s black tail, And he yowled with more honour than Connor. (inspired by a classic) She was low on white sugar, John’s Dot, So she popped round to Randy La Motte. That night, John observed Her sweet smile as she served Him his coffee, which sadly was not. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A real-life Randy La Motte has announced his existence to me after he had done a little googling and stumbled on this verse. He is thriving in Arizona and (phew) has promised not to sue me. He has assured me that when his neighbors’ wives come around asking for sugar, that is all they get. Okay, Randy, I believe you, pal. Really. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There was a cute girl from Dubai Who was naughty, though really quite shy. Not a man the tease met Saw her – Don’t be upset, But they’ve censored this. Don’t ask me why. A sexy young widow named Fay Entertained an old man the whole day. This was truly quite low, For the fool did not know She’d become a young widow that way. A French painter had felt it not fitting, The place where that woman was knitting, So he brought her to tears When he cried, ‘It appears On my just-painted bench you are sitting!’ A once-laid once-lady once found Herself getting suspiciously round. Feeling more than just miffed By her error, she sniffed, ‘I was silly to charge just a pound.’ Tarzan roared as he soared and swung free After dumping cross Jane in the tree, But the hollering fellow Had reason to bellow: He desperately needed to pee. ‘I’ll be rich,’ Van Dyke screamed to the frogs, ‘There’s treasure’ (beep-beep) ‘in these bogs!’ Croaked one, ‘Your detector Would beep in each sector. It’s sensing the nails in your clogs.’ Fussy gourmet, Sir Fauntleroy Fry, Had ignored the soup spilled on his tie, But observed with a frown When it kept running down, ‘My dear boy, there’s a soup in my fly!’ There was once a young scientist named Glass Who encased both his balls in bright brass. When he jogged in the morning, Without any warning, Sheet lightning would shoot from his ass. (inspired by a classic) Miss Happ gushed, ‘As examiners go, You’re the best of the seven I know!’ He sighed, ‘Thanks, but your test Was a nightmare. You’d best Move your car, for it’s parked on my toe.’ A great tamer of lions once got His brave head in a rather tight spot. At the end of the show The beast couldn’t let go, For they’d missed its last tetanus shot. There’s an eight-foot-two giant named Grant Who’s in love with his four-foot-one aunt. Though I’ve heard their friends say That true love finds a way, Grant has told me himself that it can’t. An I.R.A. retard called Grommet Once entered a toy shop (to bomb it). Kids made him uneasy, So, feeling quite queasy, He slipped, and blew up, in his vomit. A lame vet was called out by the Gutches (Whose twins were constructing new hutches). Those cute little honeys, While he healed their sick bunnies, Made doorframes of wood from his crutches. An old skeleton showed his faint heart In that class for young students of art. As they sketched the late Jones, A belch rattled his bones, For he hadn’t the guts left to fart. Gus Gardiner missed the pink hues Of occasional toes he would lose, But he still never thought to Resolve that he ought to Start cutting his lawn wearing shoes. Poor Patrick was sucked from a jet, But fell smack in a circus-tent net. Praise the Lord, for He’s kind (Though perhaps somewhat blind, As they hadn’t attached the net yet). Though the pianist kept missing the keys In his bid to keep pace, shouting, ‘Please!’ The conductor’s crazed baton Just traced its mad pattern Until it had dizzied six bees. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In the United Kingdom and most English-speaking countries other than the United States of America, the word baton (BAT-uhn) rhymes with pattern (PAT-uhn). -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There was an old bloke of Khartoum Who once kept seven sheep in his room. I do not tell you this To imply it’s remiss, Just to say that he bought a large broom. (inspired by a classic) There’s an eager young guy of St. Kitts Who excitedly stares at great tits. His instrument high, He will spot them and spy On each bird as it flutters and flits. The great scholar, who’d learned all he knew When he read the Britannica through, Had occasional lapses With ‘quasars’ and ‘quapses’, For he’d dozed on the first page of Q. You are wrong if you think that Sir Lancelot, When rescuing virgins, would chance a lot. He sometimes would lance a bit, (And even advance a bit), But Lancelot mostly would prance a lot. Yet at times he seemed forward, Sir Lancelot, And made the odd maid glance askance a lot, For when he was seen Near King Arthur’s famed Queen, His silk breeches, in front, would advance a lot. (inspired by a classic) An unfortunate nudist of Leith Sadly sat on his furious teeth. Although, from a denture, Men don’t deserve censure, They bit off a bit underneath. (inspired by a classic) Beneath long looping lengths of lianas, And bountiful boughs of bananas, The maidens all pleasure Their chief, while at leisure, Or otherwise pleasure piranhas. Old Van Dyke, a Dutch hewer of logs, Went to masquerade balls in his clogs. When disguised as a tree, He’d mistakenly be Discommoded by drunks and rude dogs. Two maliciously vicious old Mau-Maus First tested their stealth on two cow-cows, Then made a sly entry To butcher two gentry, And vested their health in two wow-wows. Should you catch the bad beast of Loch Ness, You’ll fail, I’m afraid, to impress Drumnadrochit’s young men, Who detest your sort when They get called out to clean up the mess. Captured outlaws, each wearing a noose, Are near ready to drop. One breaks loose. His compadres complain As he’s dragged back again, ‘Shit, the sheriff’s now mad at us, Moose!’ An Emperor of Ancient Peru Was enraged so decided to sue The ten wives of those dangling Whom now he’d done mangling For blocking his very nice view A researcher at Yale, with machines And impressive statistical means, Has confirmed that we guys, Whether witless or wise, Are all shaped by wee things in our genes. The guards of the Queen suffer rain Without twitching (or eye-blinding pain), Yet despite wide exposure, They lose their composure When pissed on by dachshund or Dane. A tumescent nude cyclist named Rangle Once sped down the road at an angle, Which gradually sagged Till the chain, when it snagged, Gave the angle of dangle for mangle. D’you remember poor Glass? He still rants After one of his jogs down in Hants. The brassy-ball charge Made his member, once large, A charred victim of amps in his pants. (inspired by a classic) The famous young lady of Riga, Who smiled as she rode on a tiger, Came back from her ride With wild stirrings inside, And a pussycat now was the tiger. (inspired by a classic) A lone lady explorer named Schlichter Once wrestled a boa constrictor. On her hot jungle bed They both writhed, and it’s said The constrictor, as victor, then licked her. The results of a poll will now ring Loud alarm bells for all the left wing: Of the guys who are gay, Ninety-eight percent say They would love to be under a king. (inspired by a classic) There was a failed fakir from Seoul Who applied rather hotly for dole, For despite risk of burning, He tested a yearning To sleep on his bed of hot coal. Modest building contractor, George Shnee, Did his courting on site with iced tea. He would say to all questions Concerning erections, ‘Let’s talk about buildings, not me.’ A learned young lady of Shoreham Made newspaper dresses and woreham. When news got around, She was very soon found Wearing new ones, not wishing to boreham. There was an ill glutton from Slough Who was told that his time was up now. In his fear that once dead He would not be well-fed, He consumed sixteen cakes and a cow. (inspired by a classic) Said a schoolboy politely to Spratt, ‘Sir, the sofa on which you just sat – Well, unless I’m mistaken, The spot you have taken Is that on which Pussy just shat.’ A shy carpenter shamed, by a stammer, Studied speech and phonetics and grammar. Greatly helped by all those, His tongue fucking unfroze When he next hit his thumb with a hammer. A rich suitor called Jeremy Sturgeon Once searched at great cost for a virgin. Taking pains (which one must) Not to show too much trust, He spurned any sent by a surgeon. In the putrid polluted old Thames Fell two jewel-encrusted cheap fhames. That noxious foul waste Soon reduced them to paste, A sad fate they now shared with their ghames. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Fhames” are femes (pronounced FEMZ), meaning women or wives in English law. “Ghames” are simply gems, and these ones are cheap imitations made of paste. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There was a young lady of Tottenham Whose blouses contained quite a lottenham, So the men on her street Prayed to God for more heat, For she stripped off those blouses when hottenham. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This verse “won ink” in the Washington Post’s 2005 Style Invitational, perhaps the world’s best limerick contest. It is my own take on the old Tottenham/Hot in ‘em theme. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Miss Gush taught her girls an old trick To learn poise (on their heads, a big brick). To her snobbish assortment, She brought by deportment Proud heads borne on necks grossly thick. Baby sucks on his cute little thumb As he lies on his sweet little tum. Being so well-intentioned, He hates when it’s mentioned He pukes on his poor little mum. A toilet-for-hire was unloaded, Above it, a fan, wires corroded. The guest who fell through, Splattered gaseous goo, Then the shit hit the fan and exploded. A promiscuous sprinter named Wright Could have fled from the soldiers all night, But they barracked her speed (And her, too) for you need To be chaste to be chased into flight. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Barrack” has two meanings here: To heap scorn upon (as in the soldiers barracking Ms. Wright’s speed) To put or take into barracks (as in the soldiers barracking Ms. Wright herself) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In this, the most horrid tale yet, Mafiosi cleaved open a vet, Fed his dogs and three nieces His heart in small pieces – Then bought their poor don a new pet. This puss was abandoned, James knew, And a stray takes a risk near the zoo, So he whispered, ‘Here kitty,’ And held out, from pity, A hand – but the lion took two. Lucky Lindy, at lunch at the zoo, Got an elephant dick in her stew. Said the waiter, ‘Don’t shout, And don’t swing it about, Or the men will all beg for one too.’ (inspired by a classic)