Daily Limerick
Archives: November 1999

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)!


You’ve been selected to receive a sample of the FREE Daily Limerick e-mail service! (That fabulous sample appears below!) Perhaps this is because you are a person known for impeccable tastes. Perhaps this is because a friend informed me that you might be interested. And then, or course, perhaps it’s because somehow stumbled across your e-mail and really want to have more DL subscribers!

Whatever the case, don’t worry—I am not selling anything. As limericks tend to be a little off-color, and considering that I’m certainly not looking for an extra helping of trouble, you MUST REPLY TO THIS E-MAIL AND REQUEST TO BE PUT ON THE LIST if you want to be a Daily Limerick “subscriber”! Again, below is a RANDY LIMERICK! Close and delete this message if that’s not up your alley! (If you have been e-mailed at your work address, and would rather receive this at home, please reply and say so!)



There once was a nerd-boy named Shag

whom many surmised as a fag.

Yet that was untrue—

though his women were few

he would picture them while he would jag.


I once knew a butcher, a klutz

who “oops”-ed one day, slicing cold cuts.

Don’t buy his salami

or his fresh pastrami

or you’ll end up sampling his nuts.


Is it in the heart or the eyes?

The place where your true beauty lies?

To find it in haste

glance below your waist

it’s there right between your two thighs.


One day when I had diarrhea

a dug a big whole by our tree-a

to poop out a heap

but it was so deep

that I took a shit in Korea.


If you’re a horned-up commie pinko

a hoping to brandish your dink-o

to a dame on your list—

who’s capitalist—

your best bet’s to first get her stinko.


A rose’s thorns can be quite thorny

and flowers can be awfully corny

but chicks find them nice

and they’re worth the price

because they can make women horny.


I called a number I was told

would give me phone sex hot and bold.

Was hard in a jiffy

but soon lost my stiffy

the music was so bad on hold.


One the way to a menage a trois

I picked up some sex toys, oo-la-la!

Me and two girls had kicks—

and I enjoyed their tricks—

’til they found room for the third ben-wa.


I once found a leech in my hair

(of the public kind—life is unfair).

So I set it aflame

but then Triple A came

for they thought I had torch up a flare.


I once knew a fellow named Matt

who only liked chicks who were fat.

He got “lucky” one day

and found joy plus dismay

for he looked rather happy—yet flat.


A young mother and wild masturbator

had a son who put wires in a tater

for a science fair at large

causing electric charge

but his mom stole it for a vibrator.


There once was a lady named Betty

who went into work in a Teddy.

If you’re wondering why

work morale wasn’t high:

Betty looks a bit like Estelle Getty.


While crusin the seas in a sub

I found myself sportin’ a chub

threw it in my first mate—

she’s a dame who’s first rate—

and I guess I joined the Mile LOW Club.


There once was a virgin named Babs

who’d order her dildos from labs.

One was used—by a sleaze

in the lab with disease—

you could say Babs caught the hermit’s crabs.


There was a young nympho named Dot

who came ’cross a man in a cot—

rubbed his groin nice ’n’ flirty

’til his dreams turned quite dirty

then she straddled the man and did squats.


There was a young fellow named Clive

who tried to mount his new Zip drive—

it’s too bad ’twas too small

for he lost half a ball

after mounting a tight-fit bee hive.


There once was this lady named Flo

who swallowed a tank labeled “O.”

’Though her looks weren’t so hot

over her, the men fought

for she gave the most fabulous blow.


A young lass made love like a train

with an appetite that would not wane—

once she’d let you tear loose

and go at her caboose

you’d at some point derail in great pain.


There was a young girl from Toluca

who, during sex, puffed on a hooka.

One day smoke came puffin’

right out of her muffin!

Makes sense, I guess, sure was no fluke-a.


There was a young fellow from Prague

who’s pants sure did house quite a log!

There’s a story that’s told

how his cock knocked him cold

when he free-balled one day for a jog.


There was a young fellow named Dirt

who was horny, a near-constant flirt.

Then his boss’s slut daughter

who was named simply “Water”

took his bait—they made Mud ’til it hurt!


There once was a man from Mynmar

who’s penis looked like a cigar.

After much rum and coke

he lit up, for a joke

but his girl didn’t mind—’twas low lar.


There once was a chick on the run

whose buttocks were shaped like a bun

and a man, with a log

made his schlong like hot dog

—topped it all off with his mustard gun.


There once was a lady named Char

(on first dates she’d go rather far).

She did hump and howl

first time with “White Owl”

and then learned he was a cigar!


Sure horned-up Uncle Ted is quite jerky

but today we all have off of work-y.

So we’ll hope and we’ll pray

on this Thanksgiving Day

Uncle Ted doesn’t mount our poor turkey!


There once was a fellow named Floyd

who liked sex in the OTHER void.

When he’d start to get nude

and his wife lacked the mood

she’d say, “Not tonight—I’ve a hemorrhoid.


There was a pervert from Gurnee

who’d taken women over his knee

and ask, “Who’s your daddy?”

until he met Patty

who left, so his daddy was he.


There once was a man named Jose

who had a schlong made of clay.

Hung with Mr. Bill

a lot, well, until

Sluggo slapped his Johnson away.


There once was a horny young commie

whose girlfriend enjoyed hot pastrami.

Before him, she was chaste

now he’s altered her taste

and today she prefers a salami.


Now Batman one day, craving hole,

met Batgirl and he did cajole

her into his bed

by shouting, face red,

“Quickly, Batgirl, down the Bat Pole!”


WIN RIDICULOUSLY LAVISH PRIZES BY RECRUITING NEW DAILY LIMERICK SUBSCRIBERS! Due to demand (that is, NOBODY, NOBODY AT ALL has succesfully taken advantage of the offer), we’re continuing our membership drive into the month of November! (Until it becomes too difficult for me to fulfill—act now!)

THE OFFER: Recruit a subscriber—that is, have THEM e-mail ME and indicate that YOU referred them—and you get your own limerick from the Daily Limerick! Just give Daily Limerick the name, subject, etc. you want the limerick about—within reason—and you’ll be the laughing stock of all your friends!


The Daily Limerick was born in a mad poetric scientist’s laboratory as a way of trumpeting the All Limerick Poetry Slam at the 10th Anniversary National Poetry Slam festivities in Chicago, 1999! As host—and accidental champion—I was so appalled at the frightened screams of innocent passersby that I decided to continue the e-mail service for at least a year! It puts ridiculous constraints on my free time—and thus I don’t guarantee GOOD limericks, only DAILY limericks—but as long as the list keeps plumpin’, I’m a-gonna keep on pumpin’ (the limericks out, that is!).

©1999 John Henry Biederman. All Rights Reserved.


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