In the opinion of no less an authority than George Bernard
Shaw, a Limerick is innately obscene. A Limerick that isn’t properly rude isn’t
really a Limerick.
The limerick packs laughs
anatomical
In space that is quite economical.
But the good ones I've seen
So seldom are clean
And the clean ones so seldom are
comical.
With that in mind TVFP has
gathered together a few of our favourites for your enjoyment. Parental warning:
you may want to ask the children to go and smoke their pot in the other room.
*
The limerick’s callous and crude
It’s morals distressingly lewd
It’s not worth the reading
By persons of breeding
It’s designed for us vulgar and
rude
From what we can tell Limericks,
with some notable exceptions, were written by the dispossessed. The writers
were almost always men. Often as not the object of their deprecations were
minorities, mostly women and homosexuals.
Most of these limericks are anything but funny, but rather reflect times
of poverty and in some cases genocide by starvation, a soaring infant mortality
rate, class and gender conflict, war and political frustration.
Having said that we find it
difficult to dismiss the Limerick on grounds of political and social
correctness. The Limerick would only laugh at us and would write a scathing
five liner about the size of our penis or would endeavor to insert some article
of commodity fetishism in our anus. The Limerick by its nature is defiant of
any attempt to cleanse its anarchic soul. In truth that is why at we at TVFP are
so fond of it.
Some of these limericks have been
adapted by TVFP to reflect modern concerns. The rest are what they are.
*
Some time back there was a
bombshell
Light Rail Transit might start to
do well
Now that could cost loads
To the selfish who build the roads
So they brought in an exhaust hole
from hell
*
Have the treasures of our land in
thrall
Any chance of survival at all
With a dope like Kent to trust
It looks like a bust
And the Harper we know is a
know-it-all
*
The thing about ‘Back to Basics’
And similar high moral tricks
Is they’re bound to backfire
When your Conservative choir
Have all got their brains in their
dicks
*
A mathematician named Hall
Has a hexahedronical ball
And the cube of its weight
Times his pecker plus eight
Is his cell number – give him a
call
*
There once was a young lady with
such graces
That her curves cried out for
embraces
You look, said McGee
Like a million to me
Invested in all the right places
*
An astronomer, pious but odd
To be honest a dirty old sod
Who’d searched for a sign
Of the presence divine
Cried, I’ve just found Uranus,
dear God
*
Her husband is in the Hussars
A colonel all covered in scars
But it isn’t his weals
For which nightly she feels
But the privates he lost in the
wars
