To write dirty limericks you need Dictionaries in which you will read Dirty words that will match A word rhyming with "snatch" If you’re filthy like us you'll succeed!
We sailed so nice in a gentle breeze Sun was setting and life was at ease You were humming a song, But not before long, You were fast asleep, head on my knees.
When I see her my soul flies anew. Oh tell me, just what must I do? Should I finally mention, My lifelong intention Which was strigine; to whit, to woo!
How you twinkle, up there in the sky I know not what you are, neither why Like a diamond at night You're tiny but bright And till sunrise, you ne'er shut your eye.
I posted something like this one a long time ago, somewhere in the Morniverse: For the crown that is rightfully mine I shall poison my uncle's best wine When he shuffles off Past that dread bourne whereof None return, I'll at his table dine.
I'll sing, "Happy Birthday to You" And repeat, "Happy Birthday to You" Whatever your name The song sounds the same "Happy Birthday to you". Yes, to you!
May God save our wonderful Queen! May God save our wonderful Queen! May God save our Queen! May God save our Queen! May God save our wonderful Queen! According to my late father, a school music teacher, a lot of the children only knew two lines of "God Save The Queen": "God save our gracious Queen" and "God save the Queen". You can sing the whole thing with just those.
Although all the lassies protest, They love when you’re kissing their breast, And caress, ‘you know what’, While you’re rubbing their butt, Then they let you go South heading West.
A golfer once said to his caddy, “You know that I could be your daddy, Cause I courted your ma, When I caddied your pa, Though to score was your own Uncle Paddy.”
Her stern was much wider than her aft Though her starbord side looked like a raft But the width of her gunwales And fill of her mainsails Made her deepness the same as her draught
When I hear Cliff sing "Mistletoe And Wine" it makes me want to throw Up into a bucket But then I think. "**** it, There's only five more weeks to go!"
To deal with a shrew needs no guess I know just the thing that works best At first she said "No!" And again she said "No!" But at last she said "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Eye of newt, wool of bat, hubble bubble The Thane's hopes shall all come to rubble By lying with truth He'll do deeds that aren't couth Banquo's line shall outlive all his trouble.
The answer the great men had sought Was given, at last, by Deep Thought But the question, it seems Is concealed in our dreams And can't be begged, stolen or bought
Don't believe everything that you hear Unless told at a pint of good beer If it's Guinness you’ll know She confirms she's aglow When she nibbles the lobe of your ear.
Antonio's ships come to naught So by Shylock's harsh contract he's caught But he proves black is white And the court finds him right So he walks, leaving Shylock distraught.
There once was a man from Siberia Who excelled by so many criteria Still, his wit and his style Were surpassed by a mile By his fetchingly sculpted posterior
That night when we danced on the roof We just did not want it to poof So we took off our shoes, Danced away all our blues, Then I saw your left foot was a hoof....
A gay friend proposed that we wed It’s the perfect solution, he said We’d save on our taxes And still we’d have access To whomever we wanted in bed.
We both love collecting antiques And cooking with garlic and leeks You write and I edit! And with our tax credit We can wine dine and travel for weeks
And I thought, well—he laughs at my jokes He’s more civilized than other blokes He knows about money He’s cute as a bunny And I do get on well with his folks.
And so I agreed that we’d marry He designed the bouquet that I’ll carry! He picked me fab shoes And booked us a cruise And a bridesmaid -- an old queen called Barry.
Now I don't need to mow or to leaf rake There's an all-you-can-eat plate of beef cake Parading the house Where I live with my spouse Such bliss -- and it comes with a tax break!
[Raak] Nice translation. But I thought I should post the original.
Ce bonhomme, nommé Swann, qui voulût Que nous sussions sa vie et que nous Ne perdissions pas même Une miette de ses thèmes… Hélas! Il se souvînt de tout
There once was a virgin who said: "My hymen is safe 'til I'm wed", Though one night in my Chevy, When breathing got heavy, She lost it, my back seat turned red.
When Santa rides out on his sleigh The little kids all shout "hurray" Rudolph's nose is alit So is Santa's (a bit) From “Glühwein” with gleaming bouquet
Previous three excellent pieces of art were created some years ago on either of the 'Mornington' sites by some of the most frequent and genius submitters, so I am not the only one to blame!
A very old sailor once said "Woe is me! I were better off dead!" For he killed a great duck Which incurred some bad luck 'Bout which Coleridge's tale must be read.