Favorite limericks....

there once was a poster named uzless
whose postings were always useless
funny they were not
and always filled with rot
but in the end he was still uzless

There once was a man from Peru
Whose poems always stopped at line two.

Originally posted by coquette
there once was a poster named uzless
whose postings were always useless
funny they were not
and always filled with rot
but in the end he was still uzless

There was an old lady from Ealing,
Who had a peculiar feeling,
She lay on her back,
And opened her

... No - wait - clean was requested.😳

Courtesy of Douglas Adams:

I teleported home one day,
with Ron, and Syd, and Meg.
Ron stole Meggie's heart away,
and I got Sydney's leg.

There once was a lady from Regina . . .

That's it! That's the whole limerick, and shame on you for what you're thinking!

Originally posted by English Tal
There once was a man from Peru
Whose poems always stopped at line two.

Originally posted by Frank Burns
Excellent, unfortunatly the thread has opened itself up to the usual "There once was a man from Nantucket...."

Hoping others can match you and G. Bobby.

There oncw was a man of Matrass
Who's balls where made of fine brass
In stormy weather they clang together
and sparks flew out of his @$$

There once was a man named Wyatt,
Whose voice was remarkably quiet,
And then one day, it faded away.....

I hope you folks don't want original limericks -- the only one I wrote for a contest and came in third was really bad. But this one was my father's favorite and mine, too. It's about Einstein's theory of relatives, you see.

There was a young lady named Bright
Whose speed was much faster than light.
She set out one day,
in a relative way,
And returned on the previous night.

The limerick is furtive and mean

You must keep her in close quarantine

Or she sneaks to the slums

And promptly becomes

Disorderly, drunk and obscene.

An exceedingly fat friend of mine,

When asked at what hour he'd dine,

Replied, "At eleven,

At three, five, and seven,

And eight and a quarter past nine.

A bather whose clothing was strewed,

By winds that left her quite nude,

Saw a man come along,

And unless we are wrong,

You expected this line to be lewd.

There once was a slimmer named Steen

Who grew so phenominally lean

And flat, and compressed,

That his back touched his chest,

So that sideways he couldn't be seen.