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When I was a pesky young wipper-snapper, knee-high to a fence post, somewhere around teenagerhood, I would concoct silly if not totally idiotic lyrics in my school notebook. Some I've found within old dusky boxes; others sat fermenting in the deep dark recesses of my demented memory, so later I had to light some incense, sit cross-legged, and enter a psychoteleregression trance in order to dredge up those good old crazy limericks from bygone years. My recall ability is uncannily more or less sorta kinda pretty good, short of mildly astonishing. So if anything, these silly little limericks are hideously paraphrased from the original versions. As usual, and especially since these are the product of a twisted teenage mind, they may not make a lot of sense. The fact that they defy logic makes them all the more fun. But I think you’ll easily identify the corny youthfulness in these goofy limericks from the standpoint of a scrawny, pimple-faced, wild-minded adolescent. At times, old-fashioned silliness is good for the soul. Enjoy! |
 Ludicrously Lame Limericks Luscious Limericks for Lemon Lime Lovers Lemon-limes for sale All in a tin pale If you want a bite They taste just right Lemon-limes to buy So don’t be shy Get your lemon-limes But give me ten dimes If you don’t giver me my dollar I’ll really holler! Right here I’ve got lemon-limes Just notice all the silly rhymes! There once was an orc named Dork Who picked his teeth with a fork He went to the dentist Who yelled, “Where’s all your teeth?!” Offended, the orc reached over And ate him with his fork There once was a fool from Spittoon Who fell in a blue lagoon Then he got shot out Up a whale’s water spout And found himself on the far side of the moon Blow Hole Bob rode a killer whale It was huge from head to tail Then it shook the bloke off its back Swallowed him like a snack Blow Hole Bob never again road a killer whale. Desert Rat Jive I came from Down Below To be a desert rat I got nothing to show Cuz this is where I sat Here on my mat In my desert flat Back there I don’t wanna go Wouldn’t be a cool cat City life stinks like sewers So it ain’t for this desert rat Nothin’ else I don’t know But I stays here on my mat In my desert flat I’m just a jive desert rat Sitting here on my mat Looking at the setting sun Plopping on the horizon Having loads of fun Just being a cool cat Yeah, just a desert rat Sitting in the shade I got it made Suns gonna fade My dues are paid Cuz I’m a cool cat I is bored I is bored I is bored I donno what to do Donno what to do Donno what to do I got the boring donno-what-to-do blues So all I can think to do is write down my little Donno-what-to-do blues Cuz I is just a cool cat A regular desert rat Sitting on my mat In my desert flat Ode to the Submarine Man Submarine man, submarine man Take me down to the bottom of the sea Let me see what I can see Down under the sea Submarine man, submarine man They water’s so blue It makes me feel new Can I be a submarine man Just like you? Submarine man, submarine man Why is the air so stuffy I’m feeling kinda puffy Does the air stink Cuz the sub did sink? I’m feeling really blue I don’t wanna be a submarine man No, not like you! Grimp and Grump Climbed up a stump To eat a slimy slug It jumped and got away That didn’t make their day That left them in a slump The Tale of Bryant the Tiny Giant Bryant was a tiny giant Who wasn’t very reliant He was too big to fit through the door Yet too small to reach up to the table So Bryant the tiny giant became defiant Bryant was the biggest of tiny giants To this there was no rocket science It required little brain reliance Unless you’re an absolute imbecile And get eaten by a hungry crocodile Bryant the tiny giant Became the next client Of a crazy old shrink Who had too much to drink Since Bryant’s thoughts were pure He realized his own cure So Bryant the tiny giant Was now in the pink There was a big pig Sitting on a little twig While eating a juicy fig When suddenly the twig broke And when the pig fell He had a major stroke. Moral: Pigs can’t sit on twigs And live to oink about it. The Lippo Hippo I know a pink hippo That gave me no lippo But made a big flippo So I gave him a tippo And he went off for a sippo But I told him to get a grippo Cuz he was a big drippo So in a big pool he took a dippo Once again he felt like a good hippo Lloyd Boyd was an android with a bad adenoid Lloyd Boyd suddenly got annoyed Cuz up in a tree He hoyd a loud boyd. The name of the boyd he hoyd was Floyd So now Floyd the boyd was annoyed Cuz Lloyd Boyd the android with the bad adenoid Toyed with Floyd the boyd So the annoyed boyd annoyed Floyd By dropping a little toyd On the head of Loyd Boyd the Annoyed Android with the bad adenoid Cool Blue Verse This exhilaration lotion Is a high voltage notion Cuz I have my devotion In the motion of the ocean Sit back now and take a seat Kick up your feet And shake off the heat Cuz we’re gonna try somethin’ neat That you just can’t beat Now just be real cool We’re gonna break every rule Ain’t really cruel Just don’t look like a ghoul So get off o’ your stool It’s time for a renewal So jump in the pool This cool cat’s outa sight But he ain’t too bright Cuz he don’t put up a fight When they give him a bite But when he flies his kite And shines his light He’s really all right Cuz he’s one cool cat Who’s really outa sight The Tale of a Skunk and a ‘Monk This is the tale of Chippy the Chipmonk Who had a pal named Oscar the Skunk Together they would bunk In a hollow beneath a trunk Most critters of the forest thought it was odd So on their turf they never trod But behind their backs sneaky jokes they would prod The critters laughed till they fell flat on the sod Who’d ever thunk That a ‘monk would bunk With a skunk? Think of the stink! It’d make you do more Than blink and wink Why, the awful smelly reek Would make your eyes leak Your nose would get an itchy streak So you’d run up the nearest peak So one day bright and sunny Chippy and Oscar took a long walk It smelled kinda funny As the other critters would sit and gawk But along came a pink bunny And Oscar ran off after it It was so funny The other critters laughed about it But Chippy the Chipmonk was sad Cuz he felt real bad That his old pal left him for some dumb funny bunny No Good Blues I got no good blues Cuz I took a snooze After ma baby blew away my blues Along with my blue swade shoes And my old ’58 Ford that was used So I got no good blues Cuz my baby blew away my brain Then took the next train Which switched a lane Then she went insane Yeah I got no good blues Cuz ma baby took ma blue swade shoes The Adroit Adept The adroit adept Stepped in donkey dung And became acutely inept The adroit adept Made a stupid misstep And tripped over his dipstick The adroid adept Bonked his head on the door And slipped over his dipthong The adroid adept pissed his pants And plunked into the puddle headfirst So from then on He became the idiot inept In the Oldy Modly Days of Medieval My old friend, Leo Stroud, and I, when we were goofy teenagers, would pen forth silly medieval limericks based on a few we had heard, Especially this one: “In the days of old When knights were bold And toilets hadn’t been invented They’d dump their load In the middle of the road And ride off contented.” -author unknown So the following oldy moldy rhyming lines of lunacy is reminiscing those crazy pen-swashbuckling days of yester-yore. When knights were old All covered with mold And toilets hadn’t been invented They’d catapult it at their foe Making it a big show Then hightail it outa there, contented. In the days of mold When men didn’t die old You could buy a pickle for a nickel And a lime for a dime But if you were a scholar You’d be rich with a dollar In the days of old When men weren’t bold There was a lord with a sword in his gourd Who slew the knight with a frightful sight Over a stupid dollar Once owned by the scholar In the days of village idiots When knights were mental midgets Riding off gallantly on their steeds As if without any needs Whilst leaving behind their brains Because they were inept widgets When the nights were black as pitch While knights had a crazy itch There was a squire on fire who was a liar Who met the enraged page who gave advice that was sage So they fancied a wench whose need was dire Both had much to offer So they wanted to hurry up and get honor In the old days of mold When knights died before they got old There lived a squirrelly squire who was a big fat liar Who’s friend was the page with advice so sage They drank till they got silly And finally had their filly So their rage got them tossed in a cage The Tale of the Lord with the Sword in his Gourd There once was a snobbish British Lord Through which a very sharp sword Had been thrust through his unsuspecting gourd Because some dumb foe was bored Who went and gored the poor schmuck's gourd One moldy oldy day When medieval was the way The Lord with the sword in his gourd Came riding across a bridge that was a board The board cracked and broke He fell and had a stroke Hence, the demise of the Lord with the sword in his gourd The Tale of the Knight with the Frightful Sight In the days of old When the nights were cold There lived a night With a frightful sight Due to a quick-witted wench Who tossed acid in his face Hence was his hideous plight When Sir Frightfulsite Road off into battle He fell off his saddle Helmet tumbling off his head Scaring off everyone in sight Hence was the plight of The Knight with the frightful sight Came the day when the Lord with the sword in his gourd Met the knight with the frightful sight At each other they gawked and stared Seeing they made quite an appalling pair So they went to scare off their enemy Who all scattered due to the horrible fright In the days of medieval When knights were sometimes evil There loomed a grand castle That caused the knights a hassle For when they crossed over the mote An evil monster them would smote Everyone was vanquished in the castle Down to every last vassal In the days of rolled oats And lots of sailing boats There lived a generic dude named Eric Who was very crude and barbaric He challenged a hairy transvestite In a big old hairy sword fight So they fought all day and night Then the tranny whooped Eric’s hairy ass But they tripped and fell, and did it in the grass So Eric was no longer generic Cuz he found out he did it with Bo Derek Go Generic Eric! Get barbaric With Bo Derek! In the old of days When men had their wily ways And computers hadn’t been invented Their technology was the pen Which was kinda Zen So letters were slower then intended In the olden days Before e-mail was a craze And snail mail was the rage Letters went costal But it was just a phase So all the crazy mailmen went postal When pens were keen Approved by the Dean Knights used swords instead They’d make their point At somebody’s head Hence the sword quickly became king There was an old man from Spamtucket Who was walking along and tripped over a bucket He twisted his heel And let out such a squeal Yelling, “Oh screw it!” So he was late returning to Spamtucket In the days of new When everyone wore blue There was a man who carried a bucket up a hill Until he tripped and had a great spill So he lost his water and his head too In the days when pigs flew When men ate chicken-fried beef stew There lived a kooky cook Who threw away the book But from then on all his meals sucked like glue Generic Eric Went barbaric On Bo Derek Near the oil derrick! Skeeval Vaneeval Went medieval On Generic Eric Cuz he was really evil In the days of the new west When heroes were at their worst And gunslingers had just been invented They’d shoot anything and anyone in sight With a rip-roaring flurrying burst Then the folks quickly kicked them out of town, unrelented. In the days of the old west When heroes were at their best Steel-eyed Dan came to town With a sharp shootin’ six-shooter But when he tripped over his own feet Unlike all the rest He clearly failed the test In the days of the New Age Where everything was sage When crystals, tarot cards, and incense had been invented Mediocre Max dabbled in all this crap So he became a big sap Until he got smart and transcended |
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