Many years ago, I had a disastrous falling-out with a friend. A week ago we reconnected and decided to let bygones be bygones. As though no time had passed, we fell into old patterns — one of which was the exchange of limericks. His are far better than mine, and he has given me permission to share a few with all of you.
An athletic young lady from Dallas
Used a dynamite stick as a phallus.
They found her vagina
In North Carolina
and her buttocks at Buckingham palace.
That old chicken farmer from Hay
Had chickens that just wouldn’t lay.
The problem was Brewster,
His champion rooster.
Brewster the rooster was gay.
Our most glorious king of An Tir
At the top of his lungs yelled, “more beer!”
We ran out of brew,
So we fed him some glue,
Now he can’t take a piss for a year.
There once was a Scot named McAmeter,
Whose tool had prodigious diameter.
But it wasn’t his size
That gave girls their surprise…
‘Twas his rhythm — iambic pentameter.