The Toast Point Limerick Contest!
Naughty Entries from December, 1996
from Poets Who Should Be Rated NC-17!
Writerman writes 12/31/96
Ms. Nooky, your mere name inspires
The outbreak of sexual fires!
So this writer man begs
You to open your legs -
And satisfy all my desires!
Nooky writes 12/30/96
To Og, with cock like a steer,
To all those decidedly queer,
And to each Toast Point poet
I bend down and blow it -
To wish you a happy new year!
You've sampled each holiday cookie,
Called in sick (nothing like playing hooky),
But the neatest new treat
(Sure beats beating your meat)
Is eating the sweetmeat named Nooky!
Dan'l writes 12/30/96
There once was a prudish young lass
Who was taught that she gas mustn't pass.
Her boy friend, one night,
Blew high as a kite
When he mistook her cunt for her ass!
Writerman writes 12/29/96
A Family Affair
Dressed in spandex and leather
Mom tickles Dad's cock with a feather
While Sis eats her mother
Dad cornholes her brother
And they end up all coming.... together!
The poet comments, "The act is called: The Sophisticates!"
WRITERMAN'S NEW YEAR'S EVE PARTY
New Year's Eve is here! Are you hearty...???
You're invited to Writerman's Party!
It's a fifteen-day cruise -
With FREE Sex, Food and Booze!!!
But the boat left yesterday... smartie.
Mad Max writes 12/27/96
There was a young lady from Texas
That bobbed my knob in her Lexus.
I said "you do that good,
As a dick nibbler should
Ah, ladies from Texas perplex us!
I saw a young girl at the counter
And at once I wanted to mount her
I settled instead
For some good hot head,
With her dress all crumpled around her.
There once was a tattooed young biker
That came up on a lovely young hiker
When asked for a ride
He leaned to the side
And said "cum on, climb on my vibrator."
Vibrator?
I once met a spirited young lesbian
That fancied herself a thespian.
The lines she rehearsed,
But she ad libbed a verse
That tale-spinning lesbian thespian!
Jeeves writes 12/24/96
I looked out my window last night
And witnessed one hell of a sight
'Twas the big man in red
Giving Rudolph some head
With an elf jacking off on the right!
Franciscus Maximus shares a classic 12/24/96
A strapping young fella named Clyde
Fell into a sewer and died
The next day his brother
Fell into another
And now they're interred side by side!
Get it?
Wandering Loon writes 12/23/96
There's a lovely young lady named Donna.
Most fellows who see her would wanna.
Although she seems naive,
She will rapidly leave,
If ever one thinks he is gonna!
Jeeves writes 12/22/96
Poor Writerman delirious with flu
Makes us a wish, but with nary a clue
A 20 inch cock up my can?
Nay, my good man -
My wife's cunt will certainly do!
Oh, Bill Ron, you think yourself funny
And go on like the Energizer Bunny
But since Christmas is here
I want to wish you good cheer
And tell you your wife's cunt is quite runny!
Ewwwww....
Santa's horny little elf shares a classic 12/21/96
'Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Everyone felt shitty
Even the mouse
My mom in the whorehouse
My dad smoking grass
I just settled down
With a nice piece of ass
When out on the lawn
There arose such a clatter
I sprang from me bed
To see what was the matter
Out on the lawn
I saw a fat prick
And I knew in a second
It must be St. Nick
Down the chimney he came
Like a bat out of hell
And I knew in a second
The fat bastard fell
He stuffed all the stockings
With Twinkies and beer
And a big rubber dick
For my brother the queer
Up the chimney he rose
With a thunderous fart
That son of a bitch
Blew the chimney apart
He swore and he cursed
As he shot out of sight
Piss on you all
Have one hell of a night!
The poet comments, "I realize that this is not a Limerick, but it had me laughing my ass off. Merry Christmas!"
There once was a man from Mynot
Who drank a barrel of snot
He flavored it with sugar
But it still turned to a booger
And a slimy green he got.
The poet comments, "This poem is dedicated to those who have
tried to out-nasty Bill Ron. Can
anyone do it without a personal barb?"
Trainman writes 12/20/96
While discussing H. P. Lovecraft in class
I developed some demonic gas.
From the lecture I ran,
Barely mounted the can
When Cthulhu shot out of my ass!
Premer writes 12/20/96
da dadada dadada da
da dadada dadada da
da dadada da
da dadada da
da dadada dadada da
The poet comments, "I know it's not dirty, but maybe if the cretinous Bill Ron (what's with
the 2 first names - I guess he inherited his lack of creativity from his
parents) would memorize this, he might be able to gradually improve his
his sense of meter, although I doubt it."
Toast Point hopes that Premer's skeletal limerick serves as an example to all.
We are nearing the end of the year
So I wish all the Limerists here:
Great guidance from heaven...
A great Ninety-Seven...
And a twenty-inch cock up your rear!!!
Um....thanks, Og...
The impetuous young Martin from Messina
Wanted to impress his Christina,
So he jumped over a fence
Which was just too high, hence
The change of name to Martina!
The poet comments, "After reading some naughty limericks, I decided this one really was squeaky clean. Am I right? (I usually write limericks in my mother tongue, Afrikaans. This one was born in Afrikaans, but reworked into English and I feel it actually works better that way.)"
After deliberation, the Sage placed it in the naughty section, since it is the true definition of "naughty" - it's not dirty, it's just 'nudge nudge wink wink'!"
Jeeves, Jeeves, you witless shit
Your barbs don't faze me a bit
Your slanderous rhyme
Are a waste of time
And amount to no more than pointless spit!
The poet comments, "This poem is dedicated to an obvious failing of the Darwinian theory of
selectivity of only the best. As a matter of fact, Jeeves may be the
ultimate failure of the test. Sometimes a breakage of the DNA helical
bond even yeilds a mutant that can use a pencil. Or, did he write his
poem with the aid of someone else's stencil?"
The poet is getting closer to that elusive meter.
Labodomy writes 12/18/96
While peeing in the toilet one day,
The water turned blue and part grey,
I must be real sick,
For coming out of my dick,
Was the disease I caught from Aunt May!
Writerman writes 12/18/96
Writerman's caught the damn flu!!!
So what's a poor poet to do?
The die has been casted...
This strain is a bastid!!!
Please don't let THIS happen to you!!!
Toast Point sympathizes. Wumpus has been sick for a week.
Phred writes 12/18/96
There once was a man named Fred Fearley
Who loved his wife Dee very dearly
At first they fucked daily--
Screwed lewdly and gaily--
Now he's lucky to fuck Dee twice yearly!
Jeeves writes 12/17/96
That nattering nabob Bill Ron
(who's lower than syphilitic rat spawn)
Should be banned from this page
(I appeal to Toast Point and Sage)
'Twould be better if the fuckup were gone!
The poet comments, "This asshole is really starting to annoy me..."
Bill Ron, you're obnoxious and crass
And you need an infusion of class
Only your tiresome boasts
Are worse than your posts
You're truly a pain in the ass!
The poet comments, "The author appreciates the priciple of "Freedom of Speech" to which Toast
Point and Sage adhere. I must point out, however, that our illustrious
forefathers intended this right to extend only to living, breathing humans.
It is quite possible that the subject fails all three criteria."
The Toast Point Page's Freedom of Speech principles apply to all beings, unless they're really completely repulsive. One way or another, Bill Ron's presence obviously livens up the page!
CB writes a way-over-metrical-budget response to all the fuss 12/17
That out-of-control garrulous sprawling scrofulous rhymster Bill Ron
Has whipped into exceedingly high dudgeon (Faith) Defender and Anon
Because he hasn't a clue about scansion or taste and besides he is so
astoundingly puerile
That Anon thinks him a moron and even wishes him queer (or at least
sterile)
So the gene pool might be spared Ron's daughter or son!
Anon pops off unabashed
Here is a solution for his apparent problem with gas
Grab both ears firmly - comfortable now pard?
Place your feet apart and pull real hard
The pop you heard was your head coming out of your ass!
The poet comments, "Now that was a good bowel movement!"
Anon once tried to write poetry - how absurd
He mangled verse with mis-use of the verb
I placed his work in my PC and moved it around
Then for some reason it started to turn brown
Oh my gosh, he has morphed into a turd!
The poet comments, "Take that you little proctalgia!"
Oh how we wish The Keeper of The Faith the writer of smut
Could take heed and do safe sex in his vile rut
He could still do blow jobs at abandon
If he would just use a condom
And stick his pencil up his butt
The poet comments, "I bet this just makes your orbicularis quiver, you little cirrhosis on
poetry's liver "
There once was a man from Kansas City
He dreamed all his life for big, giant titty
He drooled with a grin
As he wiped off his chin
And played with his itty bitty
There once was a man from Iraq
Whose penis grew out of his back
Whe he got married
His wife he carried
Behind like she was a knapsack!
There once was a politician from Little Rock
Who screwed every cunt on the block
The troopers did lie
For Arkansas's horniest guy
But he caught clap and they cut off his cock!
Bill, you've got great concepts, but work on your scansion!
Writerman writes 12/13/96
While taking some toys off his shelves
Santa caught two of his elves
Each, cock in hand -
Came the strong reprimand:
I said: play "among" - not "with" - yourselves!
Og - your AOL one is in the Squeaky-Clean section.
Porphria's Lover writes a something 12/11/96
I must say it was extraordinary
To hear her scream as I popped her cherry
I then asked for her name - she said Kerri,
But before the operation, it was Larry!
Defender of the Faith writes 12/11/96
Bill Ron is an ignorant fool;
He thinks his stupidity's cool.
I hope he's a queer,
Fucking boys up the rear -
That would keep his genes out of our pool.
The poet comments, "Too bad Bill Ron isn't eligible for the Darwin Award."
Toast Point looks askance at Defender. "And what makes you think we want him?
Phred writes 12/11/96
A handsome young devil named Fred
Could talk any girl into bed.
But his dick was so long
And incredibly strong
That most were left crippled or dead!
The poet comments, "I posted this one a year or two ago, but I needed some more publicity so I'm posting it again."
Toast Point welcomes Phred back. "Where have you been? We've been worried!"
Anon writes 12/11/96
What has happened to poets today?
They've thrown rhyme schemes and meter away.
They fuck up their verses
With meaningless curses.
What's worse is they post every day!
The poet comments, "Dedicated to Bill Ron, a truly egregious witling."
Toast Point tuts, "Now, now..."
There once was a caninus brownis
That urinated on everything around us
He peed on the trees
And he peed on our knees
So we put the fucker in the poundis!
Up on the house top landed Old St. Nick
The snow was so deep it was up to his dick
So he stayed on his sleigh
And went on his way
Cheez what a bearded prick!
What does Santa do with those lists of naughty boys and girls, anyway?
Why is Rudolph's nose so red?
Think - if you were in front and had led
Eight horny raindeer all through the night
Maybe your ass would be drawn up very tight
If Donner's dick was where you thought was his head!
The scansion needs work, but great concept!
There once was a man from Garboloty
Who delved in contemptuous scatology
He dished out disgustin crud
And slung scandalous mud
Then he became a subject of psychology.
There once was a whore from Miami
Whose cunt was big and clammy
After finishing her last trick
With a John with a small dick,
She said "How I wish for a stick of salami!"
The poet comments, "Missing for a while but my production of vile is still on par with anyone's
Star."
and shares a classic 12/11/96
There once was a man from Cheroot
Who had 10 warts removed from his root
Now when he pees
He puts his fingers on these
And plays his root like a flute!
and sings a modified classic...
Over the river and through the woods
To Gramma's house we go
The weather is rotten
And we have gotten
Stuck in the fuckin' snow!
Writerman writes 12/10/96
Another fan letter?!!! Hey, fellahs...
My head's swelling up - like umbrellas!
I mean the "head" that I show -
Not the "head" down below...
Which I must say is getting quite jealous!
Emily writes 12/10/96
How bashful and shy my new Mrs.!
She blushes beet-red at my krs.
She hasn't the heart
To sneeze, burp or fart,
And denies that she poops and she prs.!
With a Fan Letter Writerman's graced!
(Nice to know that these lims aren't a waste)
Though each United State
In its own way is great
West Virginia has the best fucking taste!!!
Congrats, Og!
Bigger D writes 12/08/96
There once was a man with an enormous dong
She would scream because it was so long
She was shocked to find
He went up her behind,
But oh' how she didn't mind.
The Sage winces. "Oo, so close! The 5th lines needs to rhyme with the 1st and 2nd, not the 3rd and 4th!"
It's December and here comes the snow...
Just hear those winter winds blow!!!
When your cock turns to ice
Ahhh, inside her is nice -
But for warmth more than sex, dontcha know!
Beatle writes 12/06/96
My wife was scratching her ass.
With a blade or two of some grass,
She let out a fart,
Which was'nt too smart,
And killed our poor dog from the gas!
Trainman writes 12/06/96
A woman shared with me her plight;
"I find no man can do the deed right!"
I offered to boff her,
She honored that offer,
I was "on her" and "off her" all night!
The poet comments, "A limerick variation of a ditty that I learned from a crusty Coast Guard Warrant Officer."
Edwin's Secret Note to N.A.S.A
I had warned "It wouldn't be nice",
He had argued "Urgency, not any vice",
Armstrong and bladder weak,
He had to take that leak,
"So don't read much into finding ice!"
The poet comments, "To be read in the context of recent press reports that
scientists have been able to trace some ice of the
moon's surface.
The note is fictional !"
Writerman writes 12/04/96
It would give me some strange satisfaction
(And promote lots of viewer attraction)
To see Regis - with class -
Fuck Kathie Lee in the ass
With Frank Gifford reporting the action!
by Michael Weinstein
There was a young girl with a fiddle,
Who sat down too hard on its middle.
Because of the strings
And a few other things,
It marked her behind like a griddle.
A singer named Boris from Yale
Could hit a high C without fail.
And furthermore, Boris's
Eight sisters' clitoris's
When tweaked played the musical scale.
by Margaret A. Murdock
A major league pitcher named Clyde
Had a terrible spat with his bride.
It seems her reproaches
Are the same as his coach's;
His balls are too high and inside.
by Ken Elrod
A gorgeous young girl from the West
Had hair all over her chest.
It wasn't too pretty
But each little titty
Looked just like an egg in the nest.
by James Wade
A celibate curate named Way
Fell from grace in the vestry one day.
It had come to his pass:
He'd a lack and a lass...
And Way-laid her and paid her, they say.
by Thomas A. Quinine
The miniskirt worn by Miss Kress
Is the world's shortest mini, I guess.
She sat down once in school,
On a fresh painted stool,
Yet got up with no paint on her dress.
Jeeves writes 12/03/96
Bill Ron's response is quite long -
When "writing", he must smoke a bong.
For his meter-less verse
Makes true poets curse
He should stick with yanking his dong!
The poet comments, "The subject's monotonous diatribe is almost as boring as his limericks."
Rhubarb offers more classics from the Pentatette archives
by Albin Chaplin
Two cannibals out in Bengal
Were eating a preacher named Paul.
"How's it going there, Fred?"
Said the man at the head.
Said the other, "I'm having a ball!"
The first fellow stood up aghast,
Observing his comrade's repast.
"Slow down," he said, "Fred,
For I'm still at the head.
I'm afraid that you're eating too fast.
There was a lady named Flo
Who said that she wanted to know
Did bassoonist Herr Klauth
Make that noise with his mouth?
The conductor cried, "God, I hope so!"
Toast Point, an amateur bassoonist, snickers.
by Goldie Tusselman
No wonder the ancient Acropolis
Was filled with the masculine populis,
For the place did abound
With the statues in round
Of full-bosomed beauties, all topulis.
by Margaret A. Murdock
There once was a bosom humongous
That caused quite a furor among us.
We all tried to peek
Until late last week,
When we heard it was caused by a fungus.
A young self-abuser named Nat,
Was warned by his mom to stop THAT.
He said, "You old shrew,
Those myths are not true."
(The poor kid went blind as a bat.)
The submitter comments, "Do it only until you need glasses."
by Neal Wilgus
A hermit who lived all alone
Had never been sucked on or blown.
But he fulfilled his need
By spilling his seed
Every time he sat on the throne.
On a billboard held up for display,
Is a gal who will play for top pay.
But her client most recent
(From the League of the Decent)
Was reluctant to go all the way.
Written in 1983 before Swaggart viewed the hooker.
Pentatette, the limerick newsletter is available for $20 a
year. ( Pentatet@ix.netcom.com )
Rhubarb offers classics from the Pentatette archives
by David Miller
The trouble with Betty Friedan
Is she misses the whole point of man.
When God made the penis,
He was thinking of Venus;
Betty thinks of a trip to the can!
A girl who was quitting the Hyatt
Announced to her boss, Mr. Wyatt,
"I've found my ambition -
A great new position."
He said, "Close the door and let's try it!"
by Arthur Deex
A lusty young man of Savannah
Who wondered how he could please Anna,
Was inspired by the choir
With hot fires of desire,
When they chanted, "Hosanna! Hosanna!"
At a nudist camp outside Spokane,
The bride appeared wearing a tan.
There was no need to stare
To be fully aware
Of exactly who was the best man.
by Pedro J. Saavedra
A skinny young lass on a whim
One morning went topless to swim.
The men she'd have wowed
Thought her underendowed,
And many took her for a him!
by Albin Chaplin
A maid with a cherry was Richter,
Forlorn because no one had nicked her.
So she climbed up a tree
Where the cherries would be;
A mechanical picker then picked her.
The cat in the rocket was curled
And out into space it was hurled.
Its owner, Miss May,
In truth could now say
That her pussy was out of this world!
J. Patrick Adams writes 12/2
Oh, I love to sing bad G&S
Billy's words I can really compress
Till they're so small and shiny,
They fit in your heinie -
Well, they're pearls, and improve the address!
Bill Ron writes a vitriolic super-limerical poem 12/01/96
There once was a load named Brown Dog
Whose poetry lays on the road like a dead log
It will just lay there and stank
Because his poems are so rank
But Bill Ron's prose covers the smell
Which wrankles our nose - do tell
And Brown Dog surely does know it
That he can take Bill Ron's tool and go blow it!
For Bill Ron is the consummate poet
And Brown Dog does damn well know it!
The poet comments, "Yo, Brown Dog
Your attempt at banding an assimilation of enfatuous words is
a vain effort of prose compilation and falls grossly short of
pentamic endeavor.
In other words - it sucks!"