Daily Limerick Archives: May 2000
Contains Mature (and immature) Content;If You’re a Minor, Go Away!
NOTE: DL has not yet taken the time to put "anchors" into the archives. Translation: You're gonna have to scroll all the way through the long-ass documents (use your "find" commands, squatlicks)!
Here’s a test drive of the DAILY LIMERICK free e-mail service—so start your meddling at the peddle and prepare to do cookies in some prude’s yard! If you like the way this baby handles, send an e-mail reply back to your sleazy limerick dealer (that is, this address), indicate your desire and we’ll throw you on the list—which means you’ll get a daily e-oil change via a limerick! Oh, this metaphor has gone really sour! But if you don’t want to drive away every day with a fresh limerick in your head, worry not because you need DO NOTHING! That’s right, unless you reply with the proper e-paperwork, you won’t receive more limericks. PLEASE NOTE—due to the high pressure tactics of sleazy limerick sales (although no money is made, which is curious...) you may receive this sample e-mail more than once, as our open-shirted, waxed-moustached sales staff doesn’t keep the greatest of records. Nonetheless... Oh, just re-read this if you haven’t figure it out yet! (NOTE: If you’d rather have this fascinating e-feature sent to another e-mail address, let me know, too.)
Don’t be a dork! Well, okay then, be a dork and convince people to subscribe to the DAILY LIMERICK! Tell them how happy they’ll be to join the millions of people who’re just ecstatic that they’re DAILY LIMERICK subscribers! Or come on out of my dream and join the dozens who’re on the list anyway but aren’t really sure why! The DAILY LIMERICK—celebrating 10 months of... 10 months of... Okay, take two: The DAILY LIMERICK—celebrating 10 months!
A man who hailed from Bora Bora
enjoyed his love through the back door-a.
’Round chicks looking fine
his fave pick-up line
was “let’s play Sodom and Gomorah!”
A man who made statues of clay
went out to the taverns one day
but each pick-up line
fell flat, didn’t shine
so he went for a cold, earthy lay.
There once was a man, name of Chung,
who was known for being well hung
But U.S. girls would hex
his skill at oral sex
’cause he didn’t quite know the right tongue.
Now Clyde enjoyed dominant fems
and candies, snacks and donut gems.
He’d enjoy good beatings
with snackings and treatings--
he called it: S & M & Ms.
A man played with some K-Y jelly
in a storeroom, when in walked young Kelly.
She slipped in his lap
while he was mid-slap—
he splattered all over her belly.
There once was a lady named Candy
(whose hooters would come in quite handy).
She was quite a prude—
real tough to get nude—
unless you’ve a potion called “Brandy.”
A fellow they called hungry Jack
liked whores and cocaine for a snack—
he’d have one with the other
yes our vice-lovin’ brother
preferred to have two kinds of crack.
A man who they called dark meat Sparky
preferred, as he called it, “a darky.”
And he met one named Rollo
and she always did swallow
so each night he fed her his “malarky.”
Legend has it that ol’ Captain Stubing
carried ointment around for the lubing.
Lonely women who’d gloat
on his honkin’ Love Boat
would be cheered up with fun inner tubing.
A young babe and rookie at art
asked a male friend just how she could start.
He said art she’d produce
if he fucked her caboose
but her “masterpiece” was just a fart.
A nude dairy farm in ol’ Sutter
lured a young girl who longed to make butter.
She was taught to milk cow
by a man who yelled “Wow—
lady, I think you’ve milked the wrong udder!”
A porn company called Porn King
sold so much that the owners did sing.
Their success was a lock
so they called their sold stock
an “Initial Pubic Offering.”
A sentient diamond named Duff
was stashed by a girl in the buff.
When his friends asked where
she hid him with care
claimed he was a jewel in the muff.
A man who played electric bass
for women had uncommon taste.
He was so scared of fat
he preferred his chicks flat
saying, “More than a mouthful’s a waste.”
A fellow named Jonas Johahnson
watched too much porno and Charles Bronson.
A man with masked face
broke into his place
and he shot the guy—with his Johnson!
A girl who was raised in the sticks
scored an evening of fun with two dicks.
Luckily, was Chinese—
so when she hit her knees
handled both of them just like chopsticks.
Now women, to Walter J. Phipps
were much like good potato chips.
Eat one, you want more—
his favorite to score?
The brand he prefers is called “Lay’s.”
A judge by the name of Ed Reese
often scored himself newlywed crease.
After each ceremony
he would quench his baloney
they dubbed him the “justice of the PIECE.”
A girl who craved only large cock
met many a man who stuffed sock
but lately, was fooled
but a fellow, small-tooled
who invented the new Wonder Jock.
There once was a lady named Kate
who tried making points with a date.
At a dinner, with Willie
ate a pound of his chili
and farted for seven months straight.
A man found it tough keeping tabs
on his cheatin’ nympho wife named Babs.
One night asked, “What’s for dinner?”
of his marital sinner
she replied, “If you’re up for it, crabs.”
There once was a fellow named Leon—
ate a chick out after breathing freon.
’Twas a move rather bold
but her cooch got so cold
that our poor Leon’s face she did pee on.
A gymnast named Gertie Lipshitz
would leave folks in awe with her splits.
’Cept one time—she got cocky
after much saganaki—
and amid her fine splits got the shits.
A fellow who looked rather goofy
lusted for a girl who’s hair was poofy.
Showed her his Pez collection
and then probed her dark section
for he filled his dispensers with roofie.
A large penised man put a smile on
the face of each creature in nylon
very few knew his name
so his true claim to fame
was the reason he’s dubbed “Ernie Pylon.”
A disgruntled vet’ran of Kinko’s
fell in with some rad commie pinkos.
This band of young punks
soon turned into drunks
and opened a booze store named Stinko’s.
There once was a fellow named Bingles
for whom taters gave his cock tingles.
One day, found this man
stuck inside a can
done in by his fever for Pringles.
There once was a girlie named Glen
who told jokes of Marx and Lenin
was Marxist, you see
they called her a commie-dienne.
There once was a lady named Mona
who one night drank too much Corona
was so out of touch
she didn’t eat much
except for a ball team’s balogna.
A man made of pasta named Sweeney
had a penis twisted like Rotini
when ready for action—
but during retraction
it looked more like well-cooked linguini.
There once was a fellow from Tustin
as they say, got hard with the wind’s gustin’
caught in a hurricane
one day riding the train
this poor man almost died of nut bustin’.
Ah May! The month of... Spring and all that crap, I suppose, but the month I’ll always remember for the first issue of Playboy I ever looked at! Why do I remember that? Hey—I’m wasting my time sending out a free limerick every single day, for Elvis’ sake, I have some issues, pal! And besides... You really don’t want to know that much about the gears in the Daily Limerick’s mind, do you? I didn’t think so.
In July of 1999, one month before the All Limerick Slam at the 1999 National Poetry Slam festivities, I was bitten by a radioactive Leprechaun and the Daily Limerick was born. Suddenly, my path in life became clear. I was born to be a crusader for uncensored truth, justice and Limerick! Actually, I wanted to get an AUDIENCE for the Limerick Slam I’d be hosting, but I was so amazed at the lack of enthusiasm for the project that I thought I’d send a Daily Limerick indefinitely! Plus, I won the Limerick Slam accidentally and wanted to give something back to the Limerick community! (Not too much, as there was no prize in it for me!) I’m committed to at least a year of the limericks—perhaps for the rest of my life, if we have enough subscribers!
By the way, I guarantee QUANTITY in limericks—one a day. I do not guarantee QUALITY limericks.
If you want to be on John Biederman’s e-list for comedy, sketch and/or poetic performances (in Chicago, LA or elsewhere), let me know!
©1999, 2000 John Henry Biederman. All Rights Reserved.
P.S.—We’re seeking advertisers—and we’ll take porn and tobacco ads!
(c)1999-2013 John "Sloop" Biederman. All Rights Reserved.