Archive for the ‘off color’ Tag
I thought a little sampling of limericks was in order for today. I’m normally cautious when posting limericks but today I’ll throw caution to the wind and just give you a taste of limericks from the 1920’s. It’s always fun to reminisce about the good old days and some of their limericks were outrageous and unpostable. I rate these PG-13 but you decide. I hope you enjoy them.
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There was a young man of Cape Horn
Who wished he had never been born.
And he wouldn’t have been
If his father had seen
At the end of the condom was torn.
💥💥
There was a young lady named Flo
Whose lover had pulled out to slow.
So they tried it all night
Tilley got it just right
Well, practice makes pregnant, you know.
💥💥💥
There was a young lady of Lout
Who suddenly grew very stout.
Her mother said, “Nellie,
There’s more in your belly
Then ever went in through your mouth.”
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My wife Myrtle’s womb has a habit
Of expanding whenever I stab it.
What’s more, my wife Myrtle
Is so wondrously fertile,
That she’s giving me kids like a rabbit.
❤️❤️❤️❤️
OLDIES BUT GOODIES
There seem to be a few of you out there who continue to request a selection of down&dirty limericks. I’m feeling a little down&dirty myself today, so I’ll bow to the pressure and offer up a few.
😅😅😅
There was a young lady named Eva
Who filled up her bath to receive her.
She took off her clothes,
From her head to her toes,
And a voice through the keyhole yelled, “Beaver!”
😂😂😂
There was a young harlot at Yale,
With her Price List tattooed on her tail.
And on her behind,
For the sake of the blind,
She had it emblazoned in Braille.
🤣🤣🤣
A cheerful young golfer, named Jock,
Gave his ball a three-hundred-yard sock.
It doesn’t sound far
For a chap that shoots par,
But twas done with the end of his cock.
😁😁😁
A mathematician named Eddie Hall,
Has a hexahedronal ball.
The cube of its weight
Times his pecker, plus eight,
Is his phone number – so give him a call!
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ISN’T POETRY FUN?
Years ago my favorite blogger, the late, great, Acid Man, wrote a few hundred words on swearing, cussing, and the differences between the two. I am nowhere near as eloquent as he but here goes anyway.
I come from an area in the country known for its blue-collar roots, coal miners, mill workers, and some downright bad ass cusser’s. Western Pennsylvania is arrogant in its pride of self and I find myself guilty of that at times. At age four I was sitting on a street corner in Natrona, Pennsylvania with my grandfather and swearing for nickels and pennies from his buddies. If by chance I yelled the ultimate motherfucker, I got a quarter and some ice cream. So you have to admit I come by swearing honestly.
Of course we were all raised as avid Steeler fans and if you didn’t curse loudly and often enough while watching their games then you were a horse’s ass. Any bastard who called some other son-of-a-bitch a rotten prick was a no good shithead or so I’ve been told. You always had to be ready to voice your support for the Steelers as they kicked the shit out of those pussies from Cleveland and those bastards from Houston (hopefully).
We lived in a diverse area with Irish, Poles, Slavs, Blacks, Italians, and the occasional Hispanic. To be a professional cusser in our neighborhood you had to know cuss words in at least six different languages to be properly understood. We were the UN of fucking, half-assed, dirty rotten language and damn proud of it.
I’ve now lived in New England for more than 37 years and I have to admit that the swearing here is a little more laid back than I’m used to. A little too polite and prissy for a boy from fucking Pennsylvania. I actually look forward to trips back home where I can walk into a bar after 37 years of living in New England and have someone say, “Hey, who let that motherfucker in here and is he buying the next goddamn round?”. It’s just not the same here in New England. Two F-bombs in one sentence seems to be too much for New England sensibilities. Well hell, if they don’t fucking like it they can kiss my fucking ass.
I LOVE CUSSING AND “GO STEELERS”
RIGHT JB?
everyuselessthing.com 