Well, I like them CW. It's just that they are a little conservative. At the very least, it would be held in what they call "behind the curtain."

BTW, are you Caterwaul on OEDILF? She just signed in on April 7th and has written one limerick.

LOL - Kalleh, I joined at your suggestion, and posted the limerick you told me to post.

quote:

A woman likes a great ass, and they don't call it a "butt."

The art of the limerick, tis said,
Is categorically dead.
But I see that in here--
It's abundantly clear--
It's rhyme and it's wit are still wed.

Regarding the words "butt," or "ass,"
I must agree with the lass.
If you're looking for bawdy,
There's nothing so naughty,
And we're, here, not looking for class.

[QUOTE]The fact is, I don't much like Brad Pitt...he is to much of a pretty boy to me. But many women love him. [QUOTE]

So what if Brad Pitt is too pretty.
Let's to the real nitty-gritty:
It's not his face
We'd want to embrace.
(So long as it's not itty-bitty.)

Greetings, Pam. I think I'm going to like this lady!

So let's welcome her here everybody,
As a lover of limericks naughty.
We don't need them obscene,
But they shouldn't be clean
And we much prefer that they be bawdy.

quote: So long as it's not itty-bitty

If a woman would shun peccadillo,
Then shopping for playthings she will go.
And despite all the chatter
That "size doesn't matter",
She won't buy a scant four-inch dildo!

Welcome, Pam! We love newbies!

That Brad Pitt I never have liked,
By his looks, I've not ever been psyched.
And Jennifer's jilt,
Made my heart for him wilt.
Off a short pier, I've wished that he'd hiked!

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Kalleh,

Pamfenway it's so good to see you
On this Wordcraft board that's so bijou.
Remember our meeting
In Chicago we're greeting --
Wordcrafters -- and one should be you.

Two glasses of wine and yet more
Have made my head somewhat sore.
So this thanks for your greetings
And the invite to meetings
Though lame, I hope will not bore.

Oh, Pam, what you'll learn on our board;
Our Richard is quite the beer lord!
While wine gives you aches,
And even the shakes,
Real ale can be quite the reward!

Bawdy it's not (nor is my other one), but, Pam, Richard is well known for his love of real ale.

[Edited to add the missing word "the" to line 2. Sorry!]

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Kalleh,

Let me tell you about proper ale
That's beer that's not fizzy and pale.
Eschew macros' fizz
Since proper beer is
A drink that won't make you feel frail.

The headache you get when you drink
Foul beers that are best down the sink
Ain't caused by the strength
Of the beer, or its length
It's its rubbish ingredients that stink.

In case I'm not being quite clear
With the message I'm giving out here
Though wine is OK
In its own special way
The drink you can trust - well that's beer!

I know some may prefer to drink ale,
With its color so yellow and pale.
But I think it remiss
To drink this semblance of p***,
And find it exceptionally male.

Not for me! whose passion's to dine.
(Hence my shape in rapid decline.)
And my husband, who's French
Who'd find it a wrench,
If yours truly served other than wine.

For as epicureans all know
With fruit of the vine, food must go.
It's not ale that is best.
That'd be a bad jest!
The thought makes the gourmets heave-ho!

To Richard, I extend my apology.
But it's now a fact of biology
That wine is to health
As stocks are to wealth,
And ale has become a pathology!

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Pamfenway,

quote:

Two glasses of wine and yet more
Have made my head somewhat sore.

A woman, alcohol going to her head, and bawdiness? It all puts me in mind of a Dorothy Parker quatrain. (It comes in many versions, but I believe this is the accurate one.)

Martinis, dear girl, are deceiving:
Take two at the very most.
Take three and you're under the table.
Take four and you're under the host.

quote:

I know some may prefer to drink ale,
With its color so yellow and pale.
But I think it remiss
To drink this semblance of p***,
And find it exceptionally male.

Beer is the tipple transcendent,
But unless I have misapprehended,
I am just the pass-througher
From brewer to sewer:
I do not drink beer; I just rent it.

quote:

I know some may prefer to drink ale,
With its color so yellow and pale.

It's clear that I've failed to be clear,
If you think that Real Ale is a beer
That's yellow and pale
(and worn out and stale)
For Real Ale is just full of cheer!

There are thousands of kinds of fine ales
Don't believe me? Just look at the sales!
Though wine is quite fine
When you go out to dine
For variety look for an ale.

You say that all ale looks like piss --
There's an answer to those who think this --
If you can't find an ale
From the thousands on sale
That suits you, it's you who's remiss.

If you can't find an ale that you like,
The answer is not just to hike.
Keep ringing the changes
And try all the ranges
Then you won't think all ales are alike.

In defense of your ale, you've got flair.
I'm ashamed to have been so unfair.
The fact is, I would drink
An ale in an eye-blink,
And plenty--til I've not a care.

It was just for the sake of the rhyme,
And to have a jolly good time,
That I chose to attack.
But I take it back
And admit ale can be deeply sublime.

Don't you love how when Richard's around, the subject of beer always foams up?

Getting back to subject:

I've enjoyed our digression somewhat,
About beer and its benefits. BUT,
Since we're clear that good beer
Is dear to us here,
Can we now perhaps get back to the smut?

quote:

I've enjoyed our digression somewhat,
About beer and its benefits. BUT,
Since we're clear that good beer
Is dear to us here,
Can we now perhaps get back to the smut? [/LIST]

But liquor and smut are entwined,
To inhibit a part of one's mind.
Before the bottle's depleted,
The act is completed.
It's simply the way it's designed.

But...

Sir Richard, who isn't yet ale-full
Presents us a countenance baleful
Though my plumbing's alright
Still my stream is too light
Someone else needs to darken his pailful

Those who have a Special Interest in Limericks might benefit by taking a look at a Special Interest Group that I joined some 35 years ago.

It's the Mensa LIMERICK SIG.

quote:

But liquor and smut are entwined,
To inhibit a part of one's mind.
Before the bottle's depleted,
The act is completed.
It's simply the way it's designed.

Ah, you have inspired this 'take-off'.

To liquor and smut I'm inclined.
'Tis a habit, a part of my mind.
"But will he be depleted
Ere the act is completed?"
She thought, as they jointly reclined.

Dear Hic I'm afraid that you're wrong;
Twasn't Richard who started this song.
I fear it was I;
For good beer I would die...
But I'll drink it while wearing a thong!

Now, Pam, our new loveable friend,
We women drink beer...it's a trend!
After all, we're discerning
While men go on yearning
For Miller's or Bud or a blend.

Lemonade with a beer's called a 'shandy'.
Fellas think for a girl that's just dandy,
But I won't be wooed
By a drink for a prude.
Now a double Bas Armagnac brandy ...

quote:

It's the Mensa LIMERICK SIG.

I've never seen that SIG mentioned in the magazine - is it perchance part of Mensa International and not Mensa itself?

Candy
Is dandy.
But liquor
Is quicker.

Ogden Nash

Sequel

He shamelessly plied me with brandy,
Just hoping that I would get randy.
But all that I knew
Was I needed to spew
And his pillowcase came in real handy.

Sorry!

You shouldn't drink spirits at this time of night.
Have some Madeira, m'Dear!
It's so very much nicer than beer.
I don't care for sherry and cannot drink stout
And port is a wine I can well do without.
It's simply a case of "chacun a son gout."
Have some Madeira, m'Dear!"

...

Do finish it up, it will help you to sleep.
Have some Madeira, m'Dear!
It's really an excellent year.
Now if it were gin, you'd be wrong to say yes,
The evil gin does would be hard to assess
(Besides it's inclined to affect my prowess)
Have some Madeira, m'Dear!"

Flanders and Swann

For any young lady who wishes to sample them, I have some very fine bottles of Madeira in my wine rack - personal imports from the island itself.

Oh, z, Shu and I love that song! Each New Year's Eve our public radio station plays a lot of fun songs, and that's always one. Whoever the singer is...he is wonderful! Shu probably knows.

quote:

Whoever the singer is...he is wonderful! Shu probably knows.

The performers, Michael Flanders and Donald Swan, are sadly both dead. But they produced some wonderful examples of witty and often understated comic songs. Check here http://www.nyanko.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/fas/ where all the lyrics are listed.

quote:

For any young lady who wishes to sample them

Will you bring your fine spirits o'er here?
And when you say young, what's the year?
If I ask for a taste,
would it just be a waste?
For I'm not all that young, I fear.

"Young Lady's" a UK expression
That we use as a term of discretion.
Though a lady's mature
She's a lady for sure --
To suggest that she's old's a transgression.

So have some Madeira, my dear
As Flanders and Swan say, it's clear
As a drink it's fantastic
For loosening elastic --
Inhibitions will soon disappear.

Forget all your flowers and candy;
Madeira's the drink that's most handy
To engender surrender
Of the feminine gender
And thus it's my modus operandi!

At the start of this thread you asked for a real woman's bawdy limerick. I am that real woman. Here goes nothing...

As he lay on his back on the bed
His wife wondered what thoughts filled his head.
(If she knew, she would cuss)
As she stroked, he thought thus...
"Should have gone with crown moulding instead."

When you lay me down there in the grass,
I just wished that it wasn’t so sparse.
‘Cos I’m so attracted
To you, but distracted
By stones sticking into my arse.

UK pronunciation, Kalleh!

stella...

you pronounce grass, grarse?

Of course. How do you pronounce it?

Like this?

When you lay me down there in the grass
It did seem a little bit crass.
I was picturing you
From a bird’s-eye view
Wond’ring what one would think of your ass.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: stella,

A male dirge for the death of sex:

As he lay there he saw her attraction;
He was rampant and ready for action!
But his wife saw him looking
So she thought of cooking.
No way would he get satisfaction.

Now Homo's the name for our genus,
Where woman loves man and his penis.
They make love everywhere
(Though people may stare!),
In airplanes, and parks and on Venus!

[Stella, I will RFA your limerick since the OED agrees with your pronunciation of ceramist. See, I'm not so bad, now, am I?]

A subject that makes a man preen is
Your praise for the size of his penis.
Gargantuan? No,
But all women know
It's not tactically wise to demean us.

<walks over to present this interesting subject to Kalleh>

I don't understand why the men
Obsess like an old mother hen.
Worry less of the size of it,
More of the lies of it,
For women to rate it a TEN!

Sweet Richard, I ask you, my dear,
Why you won't try persuading with beer?
For I thought that this drink
was your fave, and I think
that I'd rather have that than Madeir'

But when flirting is put to the test,
I would think you're more likely to fest
if you pay close attention
to when she might mention
she likes vodka and cranberry best.

Then offer her liquor of choice
And talk with your charmingest voice
and perhaps you'll get lucky
if she's feeling plucky
play your cards well and you'll both rejoice!

Wonderful, CW -- though I wondered whether you meant 'plucky' in the penultimate line.

Well, feel free to quote me with some revision if you're ever in a position to use the rhyme.<wink>

Caterwauller,
If you're ever in such a position,
(The object of some proposition)
If you're thusly inclined,
You'll rot out your mind,
Too late to consult a physician!

News about the pluckers in the down-filled-sleeping-bag factory


Spread this news all over town;
It can make even happy folks frown.
There's a risk that the workers --
Those small-feather jerkers --
Get paralysis from the waste down.

I feel I should write about ageing
(A topic that oft gets me raging)
It's abundantly clear
That in spite of good beer
The years can affect one's engaging*.

*That's engaging in sexual relations
For though one has high expectations
(Since Madeira or brandy
Has got the girl randy)
The whole thing can end in frustrations

For when ageing a man calmly faces
The fact he'll no longer win races.
But the bitterest pill
Is he finds that he still
Gets stiff - but in all the wrong places!

So bring on your fine beer or ale
Its magic will surely not pale.
With sex a lost pleasure
You'll surely still treasure
That beer taste that never will fail.

A woman comes into full flower
'Bout the time most men start losing power.
With babies no worry,
They don't have to scurry,
And a dalliance lasts more than an hour.

quote:

from the waste down.

Oh my god, Jerry! I can't stop laughing!

quote:

News about the pluckers in the down-filled-sleeping-bag factory

I knew a chap who claimed he was a pheasant plucker - but I always thought he was a miserable git.