I decided that we’ve gone far too many days without a Limerick Alert. Today’s selections are approximately 60 years old. I’ll give you a few examples of how back in the day, people wrote limericks about clothing and dress styles. These are all clean and readable for all ages, and I’d rate them PG.
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There was a young man of Bengal, Who went to a fancy dress ball. He went just for fun, Dressed up as a bun, And the dog ate him up in the hall.
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There was a young woman of Ayr, Tried to steal out of church during prayer, But the squeak of her shoes So enlivened the pews That she sat down again in despair.
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There was an old person of Fratton Who would go to church with his hat on. “If I wake up”, he said, With my hat on my head, I shall know that it hasn’t been sat on.”
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There was a young lady of Durban Who insisted on wearing a turban. When asked why she wore it, She said, “I adore it I’m so weary of fashions suburban.”
I don’t consider myself to be an over-the-top addicted spots fan but it doesn’t keep me from still loving baseball. For me it is the All-American sport even more so than the NFL or the NBA. Playing baseball gave me some of the best times of my life even though I still have a hard time watching it on television. It’s more fun to actually play than to watch. I’ve followed many players over the years that had fantastic stats but one player in particular just always made me smile. That was Yogi Berra, a man who has been quoted over and over again for decades with his famous brand of humor. Here is a short selection of some of his thoughts and comments that will certainly entertain you.
“You can observe a lot just by watching.”
“You’ve got to be very careful if you don’t know where you’re going, because you might not get there.”
“I knew I was going to take the wrong train, so I left early.”
“You better cut the pizza in four pieces because I’m not hungry enough to eat six.”
“A nickel isn’t worth a dime today.”
“Nobody goes there anymore – it’s too crowded.”
“You give a hundred percent in the first half the game, and if that isn’t enough, in the second half you give what’s left.”
“I made a wrong mistake.”
“Why buy good luggage? You only use it when you travel.”
“I never blame myself for not hitting. I just blame the bat, and if it keeps up, I change bats. After all, I know it isn’t my fault that I’m not hitting, how can I get mad at myself?”
Today I’m going to make this post quick and simple. Here are five moderately bawdy limericks from our recent past. They’re rated PG-13 due to some of the sexual content but I edited some of the harsher foul language so as not to have it too disgusting. Enjoy.
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There was a young man from Perdue, Who was only just learning to screw. But he hadn’t the knack, And got too far back- In the right church, but in the wrong pew!
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There was an old fellow named Hewing Whose poor heart stopped while he was screwing. He gasped: “Really, Miss, Don’t feel bad about this- There is nothing I’d rather die doing!”
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There was a young fellow named Menzies Who’s kissing sent girls into frenzies. But a virgin, one night, Crossed her legs in a fright, And fractured his bifocal lenzies.
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A pretty young lady named Flo Said:” I hate to be had in the snow. While I’m normally hot, In this spot I am not- So, as soon as you come Joe, let’s go!”
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There was an old fellow named Bill, Who swallowed an atomic pill. His naval corroded, His asshole exploded, And they found both his nuts in Brazil.
I’m a huge fan of using quotations in my posts from the rich, the famous, and the wannabe famous. I thought today would be a good day to give kudos to the one person who supplies us with endless quotations that are almost always funny, truthful, and many times sarcastic. That writer is Mr. Anonymous. I did a little research this morning and came up with 15 quotes from Mr. Anonymous that I really liked and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did. Here they are.
“Criticism is the disapproval of people, not for having faults but for having faults different from ours.“
“The Eiffel Tower in Paris is the Empire State building after taxes.“
“One reassuring thing about modern art is that things can’t possibly be as bad as they are painted.“
“An average film is where the actor has more lines in his face than in his script.“
“Modern art is when you buy a picture to cover a hole in the wall and then decide the hole looks much better.“
“Dancing is the perpendicular expression of a horizontal desire.“
“Hollywood is Malice in Wonderland.“
“If white bread could sing it would sound like Olivia Newton John.“
“Television is a box that has changed children from an irresistible force into an immovable object.“
“Parents never appreciate a teacher unless it rains all weekend.“
MR. ANONYMOUS
“You can tell a Harvard man, but you can’t tell him much.“
“Psychology is the science that tells you what you already know in words you don’t understand.“
“Eating food with a knife and fork is like making love through an interpreter.“
“If you speak three languages your trilingual. If you can speak two languages you are bilingual. If you can only speak one language you’re an American.“
“A Hollywood marriage is one in which the couple vow to be faithful until after the honeymoon.“
And now I’ll offer up one of my own quotes:
“OLD AGE AND RETIREMENT ARE JUST KARMIC RETRIBUTION”
I sat for a while this morning (Sunday) trying to decide what to post. With the NFL season “kicking off” I’m being constantly distracted by my football insane better-half. She’s wearing a different jersey for each of the games she intends to watch on three TV’s in three different rooms of the house. All the while giving me a steady stream of narrative on teams that I could care less about. So my solution is to calm down, put on my noise cancelling headset, and read some poems written by some young upcoming poets. Enjoy them and then you can return to all of the football insanity.
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By Jackson O’Donnell, Age 8
The clouds float by with eaglets watching by and by Really watching. They must think that they are kings Those funny little bald things.
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By Mona Thomas, Age 11
A little white mouse Playing upon a sun beam Then sliding back down.
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By Philip McIntyre Junior, Age 12
I see a rabbit drinking at a stream, I know it wants to run from me, tense as it may seem, But some unknown force makes it stay right there and sit, The same curiosity that makes me keep watching it.
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By Maura Copeland, Age 10
The heat of yesterday transformed the city into A kingdom of clouds. The skyscraper pierced the fog looking like temples of an ancient land.
I’ve stated many times as to my love for limericks especially those written by Isaac Asimov. Along with Isaac you must give a shout out to John Ciardi as well. He and Asimov had great fun trying to outdo each other with their written limericks. They even jointly published a book about their limerick feud which is a classic. These four limericks were written by John Ciardi for that book in response to a few that Asimov had written. I’ve read their book many times and still enjoy their bawdy humor. I hope you will enjoy it as well.
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The Times tells the world what is doing; Who’s winning, who’s losing, who’s suing, Whose striking, who’s stealing, Who’s dying, whose healing, But won’t say a word on who’s screwing.
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The girl who is really unbeatable Is the one with whom sex is repeatable. Who’s eternally screwable And always renewable, And who, most of all, is found eatable.
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There was a young woman named Cora Lee Who said, “I will do it immorally On top and bottom, Any way that I’ve got them, Vaginally, anally, and orally”.
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There once was a wicked old squire Who burned with libidinous desire. After screwing a nun And the minister son, He took all the girls in the choir.
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THE BOOK IS TITLED – ISAAC ASIMOV & JOHN CIARDI – A WAR OF WORDS
I’m what most of you crazy avid sports fans would call a “fair weather fan”. I confess to that description to a certain degree. Only one sport has ever been all-consuming for me and that is baseball. I spent the better part of my youth playing baseball in Little League, high school teams, American Legion teams, and one local semi-pro team. Playing baseball was my life. Being on the field and playing was heaven for me but it has made watching modern baseball absolute torture. I was never bored while I was playing but watching it now is painful.
Todays blog will return me to those early years of baseball and will test those of you super-fans who have knowledge of the history of the sport. Here are some nicknames of well-known players from the past. Lets see how you do! As always the answers will be listed below.
WHO?
High Pockets
The Iron Horse
Goose
Little Poison
Three Fingered
Gabby
Bucky
Rube
The Trojan
Lippy
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Answers
George Kelly, Lou Gehrig, Leon Goslin, Lloyd James Warner, Mordecai Peter Brown, Charles Leo Hartnett, Stanley Raymond Harris, George Edward Waddell, John Joseph Evers, and Leo Durocher.
As most of you are well aware, I love limericks. And I don’t discriminate, I like them dirty, sexy, sassy, and any other way you can think of. With that in mind I recently discovered a book, a very small little book of limericks that were written more than 25 years ago. They’re not dirty, sexy, or sassy, but they are cute. These are silly limericks that will make you grin just a little and were almost certainly written for children. So if your let loose your inner child for just a bit you should enjoy these immensely.
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A ghost in the town of Khartoum Asked a skeleton up to his room. They spent the whole night In the eeriest fight As to who should be frightened of whom.
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A glutton who lived on the Rhine When asked what time he would dine, Replied, “At eleven, Four, six, three and seven, And eight and a quarter to nine.”
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A cheerful old bear at the zoo Could always find something to do. When it bored him to go On a walk to and fro, He reversed it, and walks fro and to.
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There was an old fellow named Green Who grew so abnormally lean, And flat, and compressed, His back touched his chest, And sideways he couldn’t be seen.
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There was the man from the city Who met what he thought was a kitty. He gave it a pat And said, “Nice little cat.” Just look at him now – what a pity!
I want introduce you today to a few limericks which have been laundered. I guess laundered means a lot of the truly vulgar language has been cleaned out and made more readable to entertain a larger group of people. I discovered these limericks in a very small little book published in 1960. They were newly written at the time but they’re still just as enjoyable as they were then.
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A herder who hailed from Terre Haute Fell in love with a young nanny goat. The daughter he sired Was greatly admired For her beautiful angora coat.
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There was the young laundress named Singer Whose bust was a round pink humdinger. But flat, black and blue It emerged into view The day it got caught in the wringer.
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A merchant addressing a debtor Remarked in the course of his letter. That he chose to suppose A man knows what he owes And the sooner he pays it the better.
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The bashful young bachelor Cleary Of girls was exceedingly leery. Then a lady named Lou Showed him how and with who He could render his evenings more cheery.
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And here’s a tongue twister for you.
Drew drew Lulu in a tutu, Lulu in a tutu Drew drew, Lulu drew Drew, too, Drew drew a few anew, Till who knew who in the hell drew who.
As a rule I try to keep the people in my life unnamed in this blog. I’ve had a few family members get upset in the early days and after the bitching and complaining was over I set a new policy. No family members names or photographs will ever be used. I’ve managed to follow that policy religiously for years until today. I appreciate poetry and try to experience as much of it as I can from a variety of poets. Today I’m going to reproduce a letter written by Kahlil Gibran from his collection of love letters. It is titled “To Mary”. It touched me deeply. I hope you enjoy it.
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I love the valley in winter, Mary, when we sit by the fire, with the fragrance of burnt evergreen cypress filling the house and snow falling outside, the wind blowing [it], the ice-lamps hanging outside the window-panes, and the distant sound of the river and the voice of the white storm uniting in our ears.
But if my little loved-one were not near me there would be no valley, no snow, no fragrance of cypress bough, no crystal lamps of ice, no river song, no awe inspiring storm . . . Let all these things vanish if my blessed little one be far from them and from me.
I’m happy to share this little bit of emotion from a superb writer.
everyuselessthing.com 