There once was a knowing raccoon, Who didn't believe in the moon. "Every month, don't you see, There's a new one," said he. "No real moon would wear out so soon!"
Here's a thought which through my head has raced And I doubt they can ever be traced. Though I've searched all around They're still lost, can't be found - Modifiers which I have displaced.
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IndexThe French are a race among races; They screw in the funniest places; Any orifice handy Is considered quite dandy, And that goes for the one in their faces.
Homo ingenius Racina Coitus invenit machina. Adapta convexus Utrosque pro sexus Dispendit cum omne vagina.
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IndexThere was a young man from Racine, Who invented a [fucking | screwing] machine. Concave or convex, It would fit either sex; With attachments for those in between [And was perfectly simple | But Oh! What a bastard] to clean. With a drip-pot to catch all the cream. And jerked itself off in between. In a manner varied and obscene. The God-damnest thing ever seen. And guaranteed used by the Queen.
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IndexWhen aged, the playright Racine Who was weaned at the age of sixteen, [He said | Remarked], 'I'll admit [There's no milk in the | 'Twas a slack, milkless] tit, But think of the fun it has been."
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IndexFlying bagwings that came "off the rack", She loved to go over the back. Till one day in a rotor, The ground rose and smote her, And now she's much broader...and flat.
There was a young lady named Rackstraw, Titillated herself with a hack-saw. As a result of this action She no longer has traction, And a penis feels just like a jackstraw.
His balls needed low radiation But he received the wrong gradiation. Now they light The darkest night And broadcast a radio station.
A presenter on radio 3 Announced: 'A concerto in C - And before that the news - Follows Musical News - But first I'm off for my tea.'
A cautious young husband named Rafe Used to diddle his wife with a safe. Thus he thwarted God's wishes, And fed his pet fishes, Which he kept in a bedside carafe.
Rafferty - see Raffity
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IndexA ballistical student named Raffity Went down to the Gentlemen's laffity; When the walls met his sight, He said: 'Newton was right. This must be the centre of graffity.'
Hot flushes and menopause rage, And memory loss hard to gauge, I should take in stride, And just let it ride, But it's hell getting old at my age!
King Richard II
King Richard, in one of his rages, Forsook his good lady for ages, And rested in bed With a good book instead, Or, preferably, one of the pages.
rail - see biography
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IndexAn ardent campaigner named Raines, When parading for feminine gains, Was arrested at once, For engaging in stunts, That left several permanent stains.
There was an old madam called Rainey, Adept at her business, and brainy; She charged ten bucks or more, For a seasoned old whore, But a dollar would get you a trainee.
There was an old hustler named Rains Possessed of more bollocks than brains. He stood on a stool To bugger a mule And got kicked in the balls for his pains.
A nudist girl wearing three raisins, A masquerade prize was her goal. The judges said, "Lookie! In front, she's a cookie, In back, she's a Parker House roll."
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IndexA rural Dean, riding by Rake, Met a maid by the side of the lake; He said, "Let us praise The Lord and His ways - And then of our pleasure partake."
Dorothea who's thin as a rake, Hustles pool (the dame's on the make), She's bald as a cue, So what does she do? Uses her head to accomplish the break.
That old English stud, Walter Raleigh, Was always remarkably jaleigh, Particularly When it happened that he Was in bed with a buxom young daleigh.
The immaculate Sir Walter Raleigh Had a terrible row with his valet, Who, on seeing his cloak, Cried: 'You lousy old soak, You've been rolling about in the alley.'
A wellbred young miss from old Raleigh, Met a man from New York on the trolly. When she said to the guy, "Y'all come, don't be shy," He gave her a volley, by golly!
FLOTTEMENT
When Miss Priswick sang airs by Rameau Her pitch frequently bordered on low So her coach helped her sound When the high notes came round With a sharp, painful jab to her toe.
There was an old man of Ramnugger, Who drove a rare trade as a bugger, 'Till a fair young Circassian Brought fucking in fashion, And spoiled all the trade in Ramnugger.
Said a queer captain, name of Ramnugger: "I shipped a whole crew just to bugger. While the chubby first mate And the bosun are great, The cabin boy's arsehole is snugger."
DIFFERENT STROKES
The young widow of late Don Ramon Grew too fond of a new Colachon. While the servants all laughed She would stroke its long shaft, All the while murm'ring "Mi corazon."
In Tacoma a girl named Ramona Let a fart with such fetid aroma, That her panties corroded, Her asshole exploded - But it won her a Fine Arts diploma.
Meanwhile, back [home] at the ranch, I was fucking a cowgirl named Blanche. She said, "It's a change From riding the range, But I still prefer brandy-and-branch."
A charming young lady named Randall, Has a clap that the doctors can't handle. So this lovely, lorn floozie, With her poor, damaged coozie, Must take her delight with a candle.
There once was a young man named Randall, Who had more than most girls could handle. He'd often bisect 'em, Go right through the rectum, Then at twenty yards piss out the candle.
There was a young girl named Miss Randall Who kept a young bear cub to dandle. She said, 'In a pinch This bear cub's six-inch Is almost as good as a candle.'
There was a young lady named Randall, Who thought it beneath her to handle A young fellow's pole, So instead, her hot hole She contented by means of a candle.
The cock of a fellow named Randall, Shot sparks like a big Roman candle. He was much in demand, For the colors were grand, But the girls found him too hot to handle.
Said a busy young whore named Miss Randalls, As men by the dozen, she handles, 'When I gets busy My cunt gets all jizzy, And runs down my legs like wax candles.'
There was a young fellow named Randitt, Who decided to be a love bandit. But when he rolled in girls' arms And they unleashed their charms, He found that his heart couldn't stand it.
There once was a fellow named Randy Who thought K-Y jelly was dandy. With a wink and a snicker, He'd lube up his dicker And slip it to anyone handy.
Our ship's captain, nicknamed Old Randy, Makes advances to any girl handy. But when shipwrecked a while On a bleak desert isle, He made do with a midshipman Sandy.
A soprano of limited range Had herself made a corps de rechange To insert in her throat; Though she hit every note In tune, she looked very strange.
There's a shepherd stuck out on the range With a malady wondrously strange, For he slept with his flock, Till he found out his cock Had been badly affected by mange.
Have you heard of the big Texas Ranger Who boasted that no one would change her? "Let some surgical nit Make a cock of my clit? Fuck Off! or I'll shoot at you, Stranger!"
A widow who lived in Rangoon Hung a [rather large | black-ribboned] wreath on her womb; "It reminds me," she said, "Of my husband who's dead, And [of what put him | how he got] into his tomb."
[When] raped by four apes in Rangoon, A torrid young tourist named June Said, "I dug the wild screwing Those heathens were doing, But why did they all come so soon?"
There was a young man of Rangoon Whose farts could be heard on the moon. When you least would expect them, They'd [rush | burst] from his rectum, [Like the roar of | With a roar like] a double bassoon.
There was a young girl of Rangoon, Who was blocked by the Man in the Moon. 'Well, it has been great fun,' She remarked when he'd done, 'But I'm sorry you came quite so soon.'
There [once was a | was an old] man from Ragoon Who was born [[at least] [three | nine] months too soon | by the light of the moon]. He [never had | hadn't] the luck Of being born by a fuck... [He was scraped off the sheets | But a wet dream scraped up | But was shoveled in cold] with a spoon.
There was a young man of Rangoon Who farted and filled a balloon. The balloon went so high That it stuck in the sky, And stank out the Man in the Moon
There was a fat[young] man from Rangoon Whose prick was much like a balloon. He tried hard to ride her And when finally inside her She thought she was pregnant too soon.
There were two little mice in Rangoon Who sought lunch in an old lady's womb. Cried one mouse, 'By Jesus, I'll wager this cheese is As old as the cheese in the moon!'
An ardent Scots lass in Rangoon Went down on a Burmese quadroon. While the rising wind rasped Round the temple, she gasped, "What a night for a blow! Come, mon-soon!"
Rangoon - see Bloom
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IndexA venerable dame from Rangooser Had a tapeworm that used to amuse her. When she'd lie on the bed, It would stick out its head, And tickle her lollapaloozer.
A rank whore, there never was ranker, Possessed a Hunterian chancre. But she made an elision By a transverse incision, For which all her lovers may thank her.
An amorous lady named Rankin Was begging her beau for a spankin'. 'Tis a small thing to ask, Just a swat on the ass, Then we can really get crankin'.
A comely young widow named Ransom Was [ravished | futtered | rogered] three times in a hansom; When she cried out for more, A [weak] voice from the floor Cried: 'Lady, I'm Simpson, not Samson!'
A well-known mesmerist ranted, That a spell could not be recanted. "Could it be?", was the question, "Post-hypnotic suggestion, Is a thought that's forever trance-planted?"
There once was a man named Raoult Whose depression no doctor could fault. No lithium ion Could Raoult rely on 'Cause his law worked regardless of salt. There once was a man named Raoult Who combined some water and salt. Mole fraction and pressure He decided to measure And depression was his sad result.
Grandfather decided to RAP But his singing created a flap. Gramma lost all her poise When she heard all that noise, So she asked him to please shut his trap.
The duchess of Whiteside cried, "Rape!" When she found in her bedroom, an ape. The ape said, "You ass! Go look in the glass." And left by the fire escape.
There was an old fellow named Rapp, Whose job, all considered a snap. In the insane asylum, He'd grade cunts and file 'em, And bi-weekly, rub up their nap.
When a student named Ben once was rapping On his reason for bra-strap unsnapping, He explained he'd a yen From his study of Zen For the sound of one mammary flapping.
This girl's tits were quite rare; They were covered all over with hair! Her nipples were long As a normal man's schlong, And they whooshed when exposed to the air.
The man is undoubtedly rare Who can stare at a bare derrière, And be so unimpressed By Sweet Fanny, undressed, That his flag doesn't wave in the air.
rare - see persuasion
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Indexrare - see Peru
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IndexCharlotte's henna-hued merkin was rare; It was made of her natural hair. It covered her quiff From ass to midriff, And was parted in the middle for air!
The U.K. is wise, wet and rare, Like Joy who lives 'way over there. I stand on the beach But my wand will not reach - Perhaps I could send it by air. Now if she were my next-door neighbor, I'd drop by and say hi and lay her. Maybe just once, Or a couple of stunts, Or who knows - we might fall in favour.
One dashing young fellow, Rassul, Met a quite lovely lady at school, But she was bald as a cue And in young Rassul's view, If he wooed her he'd look like a fool.
Ratatouille
This plat is a true Ratatouille; And who says French cooking is hooey? It still has the edge On Angleterre's vedge; Ha ha! et a bas le chou bouilli! So sweat your courgettes till they're dewy (For l'eau is the foe of celui), While, golden in huile, As tomatoes you peel, Your chopped onions fry free of ennui! Red peppers and aubergines bluey You stew in fragrantio sui, And add a last sigh Of estragon and ail, As you lie on the floor with the Pouilly ... Mais qu'est-ce ce c'est que ce bruit? Le rest du repas n'est pas cu-it - But the guests on the mat At the door of you flat Go ratatatatatatouille!
Some women just don't rate, He observed after only one date. Her snatch was so wide, He got lost inside - Now ain't that a horrible fate?
"Rate, did you say," cried Cadger, "rate? I fuck at the regular spadger rate! Bring me a duck! I'll teach you to fuck: I swear I would scorn to exaggerate!" On the duck, he did excellent work; he Destroyed it; he never got jerky. He smoothly went on To a goose and a swan, And we left him untired with a turkey.
"Would I like some nookie? Well, ra-ther! Are you the Smith son or his father? Any small whippersnapper I drop in the crapper, So unless you've nine inches, don't bother."
There once was a coed named Rath, Who dreamed she got screwed in her bath. She woke up perpiring And said, "How inspiring! - And more fun that doing my math."
ratios - see society
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IndexLe donne di vecchia Ravenna Die sagen wir brauchen kein Männe On fait tous pour soi-même Und es gibt kein Problem Except for the following generation.
On a bridge that went 'cross a ravine, Archibald had been screwing Kathleen. The force of his lunge, Caused the whole thing to plunge. Worst fucking disaster I've seen.
There was a young fellow named Rawls, Who slipped from the dome of St. Paul's, But the angel of grace, Sped thither apace, And lowered him down by the balls.
One evening a workman named Rawls, Fell asleep in his old overalls. And when he woke up he Discovered a puppy Had bitten off both of his balls.
Wise Hoagy, the yogi from Rawls, Toots away as he sits on his balls. Thus parked on his glands, His vast penis stands, The sight of which shocks and appalls.
A handsome young bastard named Ray Was conceived on the Rue de la Paix. According to law He can name you his ma, But as for his pa, je ne sais.
The lovers of young Mrs. Ray Used her front door all during the day. But a perverted old doctor Sewed her up as he cocked her, And now they come in the back way.
There once was a fellow named Ray Who said in utter dismay, "I really don't follow.... How can anyone swallow The same pill three times a day?
There once was a rabbi named Ray; The poor man had nothing to say. He sat under a wreath, With a dick in his teeth, That's how they found out he was gay.
A hapless young golfer named Ray Is involved with a frigid girl, Fay. A miserable linking Which drives him to drinking, For she's an unpliable lay.
Two sweethearts named Mary and Ray, When toasting a hundredth birthday Shared some snacks deli-cate And then, south, did migrate Cheering, "yahoo!" and "hip-hip-hooray!"
Ray - see Lear
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IndexRay - see Fay
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IndexThere was a young angel named Rayloe, Who hard by his arse wore his halo. When asked its intent, He replied, as he bent, "It sanctifies those who would play low."
"Is it too much to ask," said Lord Rayne, To a baggage with whom he had lain, "That you wait below stairs And tend your affairs, In case I require you again?"
Says a litigant nympho named Rayner: "My attorney's no fucking abstainer. When he's horny, he chafes, And he never has safes, So I slip him a legal retainer."
There was a young lady from Reading, Who thought only plants were for bedding. But she took to the pill, And went swiftly downhill, And nobody danced at her wedding.
A hen who resided in Reading, Attended a gentleman's wedding. As she walked up the aisle, The guests had to smile, In spite of the tears they were shedding.
There was an old lady of Reading, Who never knew where she was heading. She'd start in the east, On her way to a feast, And end in the north at a wedding.
There was an old miser of Reading, Had a house, with a yard, with a shed in; 'Twas meant for a cow, But so small that I vow The poor creature could scarce get its head in.
There was a young fellow of Reading Who grew [quite | so] aroused at his wedding, [Took one look at | At the sight of] his bride, [Then rushed to her side, | When he got her inside] [But | He] creamed all over the bedding.
There was an old woman of Reading, Who said, "The infection is spreading." She pondered a bit, Then reached for the Flit, And sprayed it all over the bedding.
There was a young lady of Reading, Who got poxed, and the virus kept spreading. Her nymphae each day, Kept sloughing away, 'Till at last you could shove your whole head in.
There once were some twins from Reading, Who shared a strange fetish for bedding. The stories we've heard Are just so absurd, That I dread to think where they are heading.
Ream - see Aberdeen
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IndexDaily Ditty 155 Wednesday, 19 November 1997
Some quotes from my friend, the Grim Reaper: "Dead whores never squeal, and they're cheaper" "A dead dick, though it's soft, Can really come off," And "Dead people do it much deeper."
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IndexPubic hair is put there for a reason That is evident in the cold season. For the balls it's a muff, For the cock it's a ruff, And it keeps the vagina from freezin'.
When he tried fucking Mame from the rear, She cried, "What are you, a man or a queer? You pick for your hole My dirty asshole, When my cunt is so hot and so near!"
As the acolytes bared their fat rears, The Reverend Father McQueers Said, unsheathing his tool: "Rectums still make me drool, Though I've buggered them daily for years."
Reba - see Sheba
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IndexThere can be no doubt that Rebecca, For me, is a true lover's Mecca! She will dress up and play, Groan, moan and sashay - Her juice tastes just like licca.
A middle-aged lady once reckoned, The passage of time to a second, Then rounded it out To ten years, just about, Since the last man had come when she beckoned.
FRANS BUGGEN
In the bore of Jane Wimple's recorder Several bugs lived a life of disorder. They'd just boogie and screw While Miss W. blew Itchy riffs that her cooties had taught her.
There was a Young Person in red, Who carefully covered her head, With a bonnet of leather, and three lines of feather, Besides some long ribands of red.
Said Oedipus Rex, growing red, "Those head-shrinkers! Would they were dead! They make such a bother Because I love mother. Well, should I love father instead!"
A long-peckered midget named Red, Said, "I'm a hot cock on a bed! Though sawed-off for height, My pecker's a sight - So get on the bed, kid, and spread."
Daily Ditty 118 Monday, 13 October 1997
My girlfriend has hair of bright red Disarrayed when we tumble in bed And her patch of red fuzz Really tickles me 'cause It's as soft as the hair on her head.
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IndexThere once was a woman from Redding Who decided to shop for bedding Her reason, "I say, When I hit the hay, I want something that won't be shedding. Well the girl that I know from Redding Has to use rubber for bedding. She gets so much action (Minor legal infraction) She needs something that wont be shredding. I remember my first time in public In the balcony watching a dubbed flick. When the soundtrack went out All heads turned about Cause all you could hear was glubglub-lick I remember my first time in pubic.. In a lovely old car - a Buick. The young man was handy; And I thought it dandy To go down..Oh, wait! You said pub-lic!!
There once was a girl from Red Hook, Who said, "Though I could be mistook, One more time ought to do, To get me and you Into Guinness's World Record Book.
Redge - see Reg
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IndexA promise of lazy reduction Is fraught with a purist seduction For the size of that graph Would make von Neumann laugh While the RAM makers all boost production.
A pass-throwing wizard named Reece Prays nightly for marital peace. There are stadium cheers.... There are bedchamber tears.... Both result from his famed quick release.
There was an old fellow named Reece, Who longed to make love to his niece. Don't accuse him of gall, He did not expect all, But just an occasional piece.
My girl had got my mind reeling! Her lips on my shaft, what a feeling! Over-runneth my cup With my feelings built up - She'd have me shoot straight to the ceiling!
reeling - see Butcher
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IndexSigmund Freud says that one who reflects Sees that sex has far-reaching effects, For bottled-up urges Come out in great surges In directions that no-one expects.
A horny young fellow named [Reg | Redge] Was jerking off under a hedge. The gardener drew near With a huge pruning shear, And trimmed off the edge of his wedge.
When drinking in full regalia, Sometimes your memory will fail ya', But John B. woke up thinking I must have been drinking, I have misplaced my genetalia.
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IndexHenley's a special regatta, Where the 'gels' have their annual natter, And puce-faced old chaps Wear striped blazers and caps, And the rowing just doesn't matter.
There was a soprano from Reggio Whose cunt was trained in solfeggio; One day a contraction Caused such a reaction, She pissed - and missed an arpeggio!
Said King George to Queen Mary, "Regina, It's a month since I felt your vagina." Said the Queen, "Well, my dear, I'm in bed, and it's here, And the wait makes it all the deviner."
There once was a whore from Regina, Who had a stupendous vagina. To save a long line, She had six at a time, And another one working behind her.
There was a young girl named Regina Who called in a water diviner To play a slick trick With his prick as a stick To help her locate her vagina.
Then last came Victoria Regina Whose reign was the best - never finer! But alas, all the women With frustration were brimmin'. Until Freud delved the frigid vagina.
A hoary old monk of Regina Once said, 'There is nothing diviner Than to sit in one's cell And let one's mind dwell On the charms of the Virgin's vagina.
There was a young man of Regina, Who sampled all kinds of vagina. Some were fat, some were thin, Some were blacker than sin, And some sideways (on ladies from China).
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Index"The styles that at present are regnant," She wrote, "seem to favor the pregnant. I'm told they are swell (And you know I can't spell) But I think they are simply repegnant."
A housewife from Reheboth Acres Got fed up with door-to-door fakers. "Each one, I find, Has one thing on his mind!" Such was her lament to her makers.
There was an old woman named Reilly, Who valued old candle ends highly. When nothing was doing, She used them for screwing, "It's wicked to waste," she said dryly.
A dulcimer player named Reilly Puts zoom and zing in her stylee. She sings and she squeals; She bounces those reels; She may take off over the valley.
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Indexreleases - see her
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IndexWe all place a great deal of reliance On the theory and practice of science, But the hopeful intentions Of so many inventions Can be quite buggered up in appliance.
Let girls who would virgins remain And thereby drive boyfriends insane, Transplant to their box Some VELCRO that locks No matter how hard they may strain.
If mine were the world to remake, A couple of liberties I'd take. No woman corny; All women horny; And orgasms that couldn't be faked!
I often make this remark: A candle is only a spark. I think it's too small, It lacks wherewithall. It's better to curse the dark.
Said an old maid one fondly remembers, "Now my days are quite clearly Septembers. All my fires have burned low, I'll admit that it's so, But you still might have fun in the embers."
Oh Sarah I would be remiss If I never did tell you of this: I want to be naughty And fondle your body. Can I start with a hug and a kiss?
There was an Old Man whose remorse, Induced him to drink Caper Sause; For they said, 'If Mixed up, with some cold claret-cup, It will certainly soothe your remorse!'
remote - see Krakow
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IndexSaid Calpurnia, 'Though I must render Unto Caesar, the brunt of my gender, A few side effects Are permitted my sex, When we're feeling illegally tender.'
My computer can probably render A universe lacking in gender. The point of creation In this simulation Is something I fail to remember.
With a trusty workstation I'd render An alternative world without gender. Though I fear that I might Simulate in the night, A world that is even less tender.
Marquis Guy, to the Comtesse Renée, Did declare, "Je suis très enchanté" But he was a gent - The guy really meant: "I would bet you're a really great lay."
A whorehouse at 9 rue de Rennes Had troubles at luring in men, Till they got some fairies With pretty dillberries, And their clientele came back again.
A modest young maiden of Rennes Would have nothing to do with the mennes, But one day at Versailles, She was kissed on the slailles, Now she goes there agennes and agennes.
There was a young lady [of | in] Reno Who lost all her dough playing keeno. But she lay on her back And opened her crack - And now she owns the casino.
A woman while gambling in Reno Was arrested while at the casino. She'd thrown down her cash And grabbed the tight ass Of the dealer 'stead of her bambino.
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IndexA pathetic appellant at Reno Was as chaste as the holy Bambino. For she'd married a slicker Who stuck to his liquor And scorned her ripe maraschino.
There was a young girl of renown, Who'd been had by most men in the town. Her morals were loose, As the bowels of a goose, And her eyes were a sad rectum-brown.
Daily Ditty 78 Wednesday, 3 September 1997
Italian jokes of renown Make Tony come back with a frown: "I've a riddle for you: What's black and blue And is usually found floating face-down?"
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IndexThere once was a couple renowned, Who went sailing on old Puget Sound. He was fucking her proud When they both saw the crowd That had gathered since their boat ran aground.
renowned - see us
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Indexrent - see blue
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IndexGeorge Stephenson said: 'These repairs Are costing a fortune in spares. I'll be out of pocket When I've finished this Rocket Unless British Rail raise the fares.'
I'm a frog, and you may hear reports That I imbibe wine by the quarts. Well, I like a good sherry; I'll inhale boysenberry. If you love me, accept all my warts.
request - see best
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IndexDaily Ditty 28, Tuesday, 15 July 1997
Said the whore, after years of research, "I don't want to be left in the lurch I still live by my hole But there's hope for my soul For I give ten percent to my church."APOLOGY FOR MISSING 8 DAYS OF DITTIES:
My excuse, I should say, is exquisite: A tornado paid us a visit Which as you might guess Left a bit of a mess That's not a bad reason, now is it?
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IndexDaily Ditty 198 Thursday, 1 January 1998
'98, and I firmly resolve To write limericks that do not involve Any words that allude To things vulgar or crude ... (Ah, shit, that's a rhyme I can't solve) '98, and I swear I will pass Any writing that's lowly and crass I'll take every pain To attain a high plane ... (Well, stick that idea up your ass!) Well, maybe and just for a start I'll avoid any reference to "fart" Just write something silly While I munch on this chili ... (Damn stuff blows my asshole apart)
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IndexDaily Ditty 134 Wednesday, 29 October 1997
I went to the nudist resort In hopes of some really good sport My advances were spurned, You can guess where I burned, And I stink on the volleyball court My eyeballs got sunburned as well As I ogled the babes in that dell The young ones, well tanned Most surely looked grand; All the others, I say, looked like hell
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IndexOn High tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire by Jean Ingelow
The bells from the steeple resound, As the flood waters spread all around; When they ebbed at the dawn My poor boy was forlorn, His dear Liz, and the kids, had been drowned.
rest - see NG
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IndexRestorer - see yon
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Indexretarding - see roar
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IndexThough I may be about to retire, Ladies, come light my Christmas fire. Though I'm well over fifty Come get this gifty - Eight inches of throbbing desire!
A last month's verse of mine I retraced. Arthur's typo had left it defaced. The limerick's last line Although close, wasn't mine, "Modifiers which I have MISplaced."
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IndexThere once was a boring young Rev. Who preached till it seemed he would nev. His hearers, en masse, Got a pain in the ass And prayed for relief of their neth.
Said Hans,"If you seek revelries Come to our lusty musical sprees For not only Gauls Prefer 'notes inegales'- We like to count off fours and threes!
There once was a girl from Revere So enormously large that, oh, dear! Once far out in the ocean Byrd raised a commotion By planting our flag on her rear.
An eccentric old bag named Revere, Had tattoos that were mostly unclear. When she chose, though, to spread, There was one such that said, "In his cups, boys, old Kilroy was here!"
A farmer who [lived in Revere, | was a bit queer] [Did not know | Could not tell] a bull from a steer; He bought one for his cows; It did nothing but browse; It had neither the interest nor gear.
To die in my sleep I'd revere Like dear Granny, so sweet and sincere, Which is better, by far, than the friends in her car, Who went with her while screaming in fear.
There once was a boring young Reverend, Who preached till it seemed he would never end. His hearers, en masse, Got a pain in the ass, And prayed - for relief of their nether end.
reversal - see four
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IndexBrad's hardware is simply revolting; The screws he delivers are jolting. He's nuts! He's obsessed!! So a card I've addressed, To nail him by writing, "I'm bolting!"
An ignorant maiden named [Rewdid | Crewe-Pitt], Did something amazingly stupid. When her lover had spent, She douched with cement, And gave birth to a statue of Cupid.
The hard-on of sheepherder Crew[e]s Was one that he just couldn't lose. He'd no girls to assault, So perhaps one can't fault His putting his dick to good ewes.
There was a young [lawyer | fellow] named Rex [Who was sadly deficient in | With diminutive organs of] sex. [Arraigned for | When charged with] exposure He said with composure, "De minimis nor curat lex."
Said an unashamed satyr named Rex, Unabashedly showing his sex, "My Ballocks are brimmin', I hanker for women - This display better have some effects!"
Rex - see Oedipus Rex
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IndexA virile young shepherd named Rex, Was considered a master at sex By a Queen he was dating, Her Ladies-in-Waiting, And his sheep who were all nervous wrecks.
A rollicking fellow named Rex, Was under a fortunate hex. It seems he had such An unusual touch, It turned everything into sex.
A horney old trapper named Rex, Liked the risks of wild porcupine sex. But incredible luck, His dick never got stuck, But his balls were just pitiful wrecks.
There was a young lady of Rheims Who amazingly pissed in four streams. A friend poked around And a coat button found Wedged tightly in one of her seams
There was an Old Person of Rheims, Who was troubled with horrible dreams; So, to keep him awake, They fed him on cake, Which amused that Old Person of Rheims.
A young wife in the outskirts of Rheims Preferred frigging to going to mass. Said her husband, 'Take Jacques, Or any young cock, For I cannot live up to your ass.'
There was a young lady[fellow] of Rheims Who was terribly plagued with wet dreams. He saved up a dozen, And sent to his cousin, Who ate them and thought they were creams.
There was an Archbishop of Rheims, Who played with himself in his dreams. On his nightshirt in front, He painted a cunt, Which made his cock gush forth in streams.
A crafty old bugler of Rheims, Would feast upon coconut creams, And fart a toccata, Or a Mozart sonata, On seventeenth-century themes.
A glutton who came from the Rhine Was asked at what hour he'd dine. He replied, 'At eleven, At three, five, and seven, And eight and a quarter to nine.'
A German girl on the River Rhine, Went out with a Yank for a hell of a time. The rubber broke, The juice flew out, And now he's the father of a square-head Kraut.
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IndexA fellow who lived on the Rhine, Saw some fish on which he wished to dine. But how to invite them? He said, "I will write them!" He sat down and dropped them a line.
Getting out of Town
An unemployed teenage rhinoceros Was arrested while swimming the Bosphorus. A hippo he'd dated Had announced: "We've created The world's very first hippopoceros."
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IndexIf you meet with the Indian rhinoceros, You might think he just looks preposterous. But how would you like A nose with a spike? It would make even Ghandi ferocerous.
There was a young [lady called Rhoda | Queen of Baroda] Who [kept | built] [an immoral |an erotic | a new kind of] pagoda; She festooned the walls Of its halls with the balls And the tools of the fools who bestroda.
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IndexThere once was a maiden named Rhoda, Who drank many bottles of soda, She slurped so much fizz - Well, it's none of my biz - But one day she's gonna explode-a.
There was a young woman named Rhoda, As sweet as a chocolate soda. It was such a delight To screw her at night, Then one more at dawn as a coda.
Rhoda - see Swoboda
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IndexNow hear this fair lass from Rhode Isle, Who said with a wink and a smile, 'Sure, please stick it in, Be it thick, be it thin, But if rough, I won't do as a file.'
There was an Old Person of Rhodes, Who strongly objected to toads; He paid several cousins To catch them by dozens, That futile Old Person of Rhodes.
There was a young lady, Miss Rhodes Who sinned in unusual modes. At the height of her fame She abruptly became The mother of four dozen toads.
There was a young fellow of Rhodes, Whose testicles turned into toads. He, horrified, wept, As they struggled and leapt. "Give me back my quiescent old nodes!"
The professor talked much about Rhodium, And then he expounded on Sodium. His arms he did flail, Until he turned pale, And then he fell off of the podium.
An antichurch harlot named Rhonda, Keeps tempting our young monks to wander, From true rectitude By walking in nude, And saying, "Behold thy Golconda!"
A prosperous merchant of Rhone [Fills sexual orders by | Took orders for cunt on the] phone, Or the same [can | could] be baled, Stamped, labelled, and mailed To a limited parcel-post zone.
There was a mean witch of the Rhone, Who cursed an old harlot named Joan. Not a man was amused, Au contraire, they were bruised, For they found she'd been plugged up with stone.
A curvacious housewife from Rhyl, Who'd resorted to using a dill Gave her husband Viagra Now he cums like Niagra With result that she's back on the Pill !
There was a young lady of Rhyll In an omnibus was taken ill, So she called the conductor, Who got in and fucked her, Which did her more good than a pill.
Swinburne - he of the multiple rhyme - Was a victim of nursery crime. To make his little pinny stir His nurse used to administer Treatment so sweet and sinister It still made Swinburne burn when in his prime.
For "garbage" there isn't a rhyme; But then, dears, there isn't the time To flame willy-nilly The profound and the silly While thinking our own thoughts sublime.
If you've a penchant for rhyme, But half the words are out of time, da Dah da da Dah Should be your man-tra - The time of your slime soon will chime.
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IndexThese are a few of my rhymes, Just trying to stay out of crimes. If you don't like it, I don't give a shit. It's either this or be doing some time.
There was a queer fellow named Rice Whose sex life was colder than ice. But a kindly relation Restored his sensation, By covering his penis with lice.
There was an old spinster named Rice Who was frightened of little grey mice, Till one crept up her cunt, And she cried with a grunt, "Oh God! What a thrill beyond price!"
rich - see Cobain
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IndexThere once was a poet named Rick Whose limericks were nowhere near slick His lacking of metre Was matched by his peter And as funny as shitting a brick.
There once was a man named Rick, Whose legs were as thin as a stick. He told his dog, Fletch, To go out and "Fetch!" So the dog brought Rick back quick.
There once was a young man named Rick, Who had a ten-foot prick. He showed it to the neighbor next door. She thought it was a snake. She hit it with a rake. Now it's only four-foot-four.
A discerning young fellow named Rickwid Said, "Chili is one dish I'll stick wid. For there's quite an art To predicting which fart Will be gas, and which one will be liquid."
There was a young lady named Riddle, Who had an untouchable middle. She had many friends Because of her ends, Since it isn't the middle you diddle.
A daisy chain isn't a riddle, Simply some folks who are happy to fiddle, By twos and by threes On their backs or on their knees, And it's fun getting caught in the middle!
Nantucketensis ridebat Penem longiormen sugebat: Si auris machina Aut potens vagina Libenter ingredi potebat.
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Indexpuella Rigensis ridebat quam tigris in tergo vehebat; externa profecta, internum revecta sed risus cum tigre manebat.
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IndexMy existence with conflict is rife With crises and in constant strife. An emotional quirk Precludes looking for work But through TV talk shows, I've a life.
There was a young lady of Riga Who smiled as she rode on a tiger; They returned from the ride With the lady inside, And the smile on the face of the tiger.
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IndexA well-hung musician named Riggs Was climbing a fig tree for figs. But all was not well; On his organ he fell And he sounded like E. Power Biggs.
A horny young major named Riggle Took out a cute nurse for a jiggle. She said, "Christ, what a screw! All the bastard could do Was three little jerks and a wiggle."
Though your dreams may seem normal and right, They bring horrible things to the light; You can only be sure That you're perfectly pure If you dream about nothing all night.
right - see Kew
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Indexright - see sex
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Indexright - see 44D's
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IndexA boisterous cocksman named Rind Stuffed a firecracker up his behind, And screwed sweet Miss Pearl - A decent young girl - Out of what she had used for her mind!
An odd nephew of Hildy von Ringen Was convicted on Easter of singin' Bawdy songs during Mass And of baring his ass While the bells in the Sanctus were ringin'.
[There was a young German | A young violinist] named Ringer [Entertaining | Was seducing] an opera singer. Said he, with a grin, "Well, I've sure got it in!" Said she, "You mean that ain't your finger?"
There was an Old Person of Rimini, Who said, "Gracious! Goodness! O Gimini!" When they said "Please be still!" She ran down the Hill, And was never more heard of at Rimini.
A [young violinist | concert conductor | contra-bassoonist] in Rio [Was seducing | Fell in love with] a lady named Cleo. As she took down her panties, [S]he said, " No andantes; I want [this | it] allegro con brio!"
An opera tenor in Rio Had vocal chords where he did pee-o. As he dabbled his dong, It broke into song, Rendering "O Sole Mio" con brio!
There was an old sadist named Rip, Who made love to his wife with a whip. He'd tease and provoke her, And finally choke her, As he shot her a fuck in the hip.
Dub D's are fine for a ripple, While A's aren't more than a stipple. Just give me a cup Where the pink stands way up - All I need's a mouthful of nipple.
Rising Sun - see Sun
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IndexAn elderly rabbi named Riskin Dines daily on cunt-juice and foreskin. And to further his bliss, At dessert he'll drink piss, For which he is alway a'thirstin'.
A modern young lady called Rita, Buys ribbon and cloth by the meter. She get bacon and ham Weighed out by the gram And orders her milk by the liter.
A nervous young virgin named Ritt, Once let a young man stroke her tit. She moaned and she thrashed, But when his hand touched her gash, She was so hot and bothered, she shit.
A young baseball groupie named Ritter, Will soon need a good babysitter. She couldn't say no To the sluggers, and so She got hit, but she can't say what hitter.
There once was a girl at the Ritz, Who liked to have men bite her tits. One good Fletcherizer Made her sadder but wiser, By chewing them up into bits.
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IndexThere's a sensitive type in Tom's River Whom [Minsky's | Beethoven] causes to quiver; The aesthetic vibration Brings soulful elation, And also is [good | fine] for the liver.
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IndexUncle Jim has been sent up the river, The old stories he tells makes me shiver; He'd been somewhat unwise Forming close family ties, Making sausage of Grandfather's liver.
river - see Cam
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Indexroar - see grouch
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Index"Where's my rubbers?" cried Phog with a roar. "The junk here could suck up a store! Can't you half-witted shits Lay your hands on those kits - Those French ticklers I bought for Miss Shore?" Said the page at the Senator's door, "They want you at once on the floor." "You damn whey-faced shit, Go say I can't quit; Just tell them I'm fucking my whore!" "Holy Jesus!" cried Phog, "something's tore. Here's a mishap I greatly deplore. Three cheers for motherhood! And all of that other crud - I've just shot my bolt in Miss Shore!" Since Phogbound must go on the floor, And hasn't quite brought off his whore, He endeavors by proxy To finish his doxy; The Sergeant-at-Arms gets the chore. Said Phogbound, "I poor at retarding. When attempted, it just leads to farting. No slow pokes for me, Let the jizz flow like pee! I'm no Warren Gamaliel Harding!"
King Gorilla, the monarch of roarers, Warned his mate, "Stay away from explorers. If they fuck like we do, They'll be sure after you, And I don't want no half-human horrors."
Our dear daughter has no need to roam She has just turned thirteen, the sweet gnome. To her we do extol Values of birth control And insist she screws only at home.
A geologist named Dr. Robb Was perturbed by his thingamabob. So he took up his pick And whanged off his wick, And calmly went on with his job.
I met a young lass named Roberta, And I did all I could do to divert her. But talk wouldn't do. She wanted to screw. I gave in. After all, could I hurt her?
A well-heeled old dame named Roberta, Had been brought up to think sex would hurt 'er. But she found, in the main, A high threshhold of pain, Was an asset that would not desert 'er.
There was an old man from Robles, Who sent out to dine with some nobles. He would[At the] risk [of] his life, And[He] fucked the host's wife And now, so 'tis said, he has no balls.
There was a young man so robust That he suffered from Married Man's Rust. When he slipped girls the missile, It made their ass whistle, And the blast from his ass gave him thrust.
There was a young lady from Rochester. Who left school for just a semester, She stiched all day, And she liked it that way, Away from the course work that stressed her.
Rock - see Lock
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IndexThere once were a couple of rockers Who went out with a bird with big knockers. They wanted to play And she didn't say nay So they took her behind the girls' lockers.
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IndexThere was an Old Man on some rocks, Who shut up his wife in a box; When she said, "Let me out!" He exclaimed, "Without doubt, You will pass all your life in that box."
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IndexThere was a young man from Far Rockaway, Who could [skizzle | diddle] a broad from a block away. Once while taking a fuck, Along came a truck, And knocked both his balls and his cock away.
There was a young Jew of Far Rockaway, Whose screams could be heard for a block away. Perceiving his error, The Rabbi in terror Cried, "God! I have cut his whole cock away!"
At the zoo a young man of Far Rockaway, Was heard by folks screaming a block away. He'd got apes in a rage, Jerking off near their cage, And they ripped off both balls and tore cock away.
There was a young man from Far Rockaway, Who claimed he could smell cunt a block away. He picked up a quiff Who gave him the syph, And it rotted the tip of his cock away.
The Sneak o' Topeka
In Topeka a moppet who rocketed, Was arrested, bespringed and besprocketed. The springs and the sprockets That cling to the rockets In Topeka are not to be pocketed.
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IndexThere was a young man with a rod, Who thought he'd been chosen by God, To exercise Hell From the girls. He meant well, But the Thunder said: "Exorcise - Clod!"
There was a young fellow named Rod, Renowned for the size of his prod. He attempted to stuff it Up Little Miss Muffet, And the last words she spoke were:"My God!"
There once was a young girl named Rodgers, An apprentice who played with the lodgers, And two who were able, Slipped under the table, To the horror of several old codgers.
Bill Clinton and Hillary Rodham From Whitewater sank to the bottom They were slowly done in For unethical sin 'Twas Star that finally got 'em
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IndexThere once was a nymph, name of Rodham, Who, with Bill, was traveling to Soddam. Bill paused on the way For a bit of foreplay, But neglected Ms. Rodham's fine bottom.
A popular sport at Roedean is To fondle a gentleman's penis. But at Cheltenham College More limited knowledge Inhibits their sexual keenness
Politicos often shift rôle, And success goes to those without soul. As a party moves right, The knave becomes knight, Though I wouldn't touch Dole with a pole.
role - see Joel
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Indexrole - see chums
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IndexThe punctual Cynthia Rolen, Missed a period, (or was it stolen?) She looked up her ass With a tube made of glass, But she found only her own semicolon.
Give 'em hell, Bob! You're on quite a roll. Other issues? Dear me, bless my soul. Health concerns or "The Debt," Why indeed should you fret? With your perks, are you not on the Dole?
roll - see Joel
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IndexSaid the Pope, as he read from the roll: "True religion saves only the soul. We must have further study, And then more further study, Of further study of birth control."
When a hillbilly cocksman named Rollo Asked a girl as they sparked in the hollow, "Did you know that my dong Measures nine inches long?" She replied, "That's a hard one to swallow!"
The Tango
I'm sure this is truly romance, For whenever the tango we dance, I'm full of emotion Despite the commotion Occurring below in my pants. My body feels flushed, yes it's true When being held tightly by you. Hot breath on my cheek, At my cleavage you peek. The Tango's a musical screw.
A maestro directing in Rome Had a quaint way of driving it home. Whoever he climbed Had to keep her tail timed To the beat of his old metronome.
A tenor who warbled in Rome Had to pack up and quickly leave home. He'd messed up the lives Of ten knocked-up wives- Now he fucks Eskimaidens in Nome.
A hot signorina in Rome Gave her favors 'neath St. Peter's dome. The Pope ne'er protested 'Til her dad she incested Said she, "Charity begins at home."
There was a great painter of Rome: One day he was painting a dome, "But" said he, "I must go, And kiss the pope's toe:" What a comical painter of Rome!
Said a [busy young | millionaire] Texan in Rome, Who had bought up the Vatican dome, "It's not just the art, Though I'd say that's right smart, It's the challenge of getting it home."
An efficient young lady of Rome, Began to do piecework at home. Eight hours a day, Fifteen minutes a lay, Neatly timed by the chimes from the Dome.
A cardinal living in Rome, Had a renaissance bath in his home. He could gaze at the nudes, As he worked up his moods, In emulsions of semen and foam.
Sighed a sensitive condom named Ron: "I'm put off by the trick and the con: And the ads haven't fibbed In their saying I'm ribbed - There's a Scot who keeps putting me on!"
"Bathroom fixtures are costly" said Ron, "And my budget is now nearly gone." So he sat down and wrote, Sears and Roebucks a note, Complaining about his dear john.
There once was a guy named L. Ron Who thought up a wonderful con. Now you got to admit It sounded like shit, But he became a robber baron.
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IndexA toothless old wench named De Roncelles Was acquainted with numerous consuls. They'd come to be gummed, And she'd gum as they'd come; She really had overworked tonsils.
Jan was a hooker, a rookie. When a man asked to eat her sweet nookie, She said, "That isn't nice, But if you ask twice, I'll give you some milk and a cookie."
There was an old fellow from Roop Who'd lost all control of his poop. One evening at supper His wife said, 'Now Tupper, Stop making that noise with your soup.'
A miscegenator named Roose, Spent a week in Rangoon on the loose. After trying all races On an impartial basis, His favorite hue remains puce.
An incredibly lecherous rooster, Was arrested for ardor in Worcester. He had not been let loose, Since an indignant moose, Swore that, given a boost, he had goosed her.
An old G.I. custom, long rooted, Is to entering fledglings well-suited. In every latrine A bright sign is seen: "Stand close, the next guy may be barefooted."
El Rocque - see Lock
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IndexThe Rorcester of Worcester
An incredibly lecherous rorcester Was arrested for ardor in Worcester. He has not been let lorces Since an indignant morces Swore that, given a borcest, he had gorcest'er.
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IndexHydraulic Interlude
There was a young lady named Rose, Who'd occasionally straddle a hose, And parade about, squirting, And spouting and spurting, Pretending she pissed like her beaux. She was seen by her cousin named Anne, Who improved the original plan. Said she, "My dear Rose, In this lowly old hose, Are all the best parts of a man." So avoiding the crude and sadistic, She frigged in a manner artistic. At the height of her pleasure She turned up the pressure, And cried, "Ain't it grand and realistic!" They soon told the Duchess of Fyfe, And her crony, the alderman's wife. And they found it so pleasing, And tickling and teasing, They washed men right out of their life. It was tried by the great Mrs. Biddle, And she said to her husband, "Go fiddle! Here's double the fun, And you get three in one - A ducking, a douche, and a diddle." It was tried by the dancer, Di Basle, Whose cunt was just made for a nozzle. She said, "I admit It's an elegant fit, But of course it won't do for the arse 'ole." It was tried by the Duchess of Porter, And passed on by her to her daughter, Who said, "With a leman You're fearful of semen, But a fuck's as effective with water." (leman - lover) Thus writes Lady Vanderbilt-Horsett, Who invented the Lonely-Maid Corset, "I thought all vicarious Fucking precarious. I was wrong. It's a whiz. I endorse it." Soon in Paris, on the Boulevard Salique, You could purchase (complet avec talic, Pour soixante francs cinq) A short hose and tank, And they called it Le Fuckeur Hydraulique.
There once was a young lady named Rose Pursued by [two different | a couple of] beaus. [She hated the | Engaged to a] cad, Fell in love with the lad; When Titanic went under, he froze.
There was a young lady named Rose, Who filled not one po, but twelve poes, With piss, sweat, and come, Thick slime from her bumb, And snot from her bloody old nose.
A [prudish | haughty] young damsel named Rose, Is peculiar how men [do] propose. To "Let's have intercourse," She says gaily, "Of course," But to "Lets fuck", she turns up her nose.
There was a young maiden named Rose With erogenous zones in her toes. She remained onanistic Till a foot-fetishistic Young man became one of her beau[s|x].
A hooker with asthma, old Rose, Is incessantly blowing her nose, Yet does not miss a trick For she's really quite slick, And skillful at knowing her blows.
I know a young lady named Rose Who painted the nails of her toes With black over red She fashioned the head Of a bull with a ring in his nose.
There was a young lady named Rose, Who liked to slip out of her clothes When receiving a gent, Which helped pay the rent And kept her amused, I suppose.
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IndexThere is a young woman named Rose, Who has a fixation on toes. She thinks that love's remedies, Start with pedal extremities, And she then passes on to - God knows!
There was a young lady named Rose, Who liked to slip out of her clothes When men came to call. "You are welcome to all," She would say, striking pose after pose.
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IndexThere was a young lady named Rose, Who fainted whenever she chose. She did so one day While playing croquet, But was quickly revived with a hose.
There once was a young girl named Rose. She had ten very big hairy toes. Despite what she did, They couldn't be hid. All made fun, which elated her foes.
There once was a woman named Rose, Who used SPAM for painting her toes. She liked the effect, But her love life was wrecked. Her tootsies offended the nose.
A naked young tart named Roselle Walked the streets while ringing a bell; When asked why she rang it She answered, 'Gol dang it! Can't you see I have something to sell?'
There once was a stitcher named Ross Who loved fibers and fabrics and floss. They filled up his house, Left no space for his spouse, Which made his wife cranky and cross.
There was a young lady named Ross, Whose husband became very cross When she filled all their jugs With sassenach slugs Preserved in his whisky écosse.
There was an old puzzler, Ben Ross, Who died - doing crosswords, of course. He was buried, poor Ben, With eraser and pen In a box, six feet down, three across.
There is a poor sneak called Rossetti, As a painter with many kicks met he - With more as a man - But sometimes he ran, And that saved the rear of Rossetti.
The intestines of Dante Rossetti Were exceedingly fragile and petty. All he could eat Was finely chopped meat, And all he could shit was spaghetti.
One midnight, old D.G. Rossetti Remarked to Miss Sidall: 'Oh, Betty, I wish that you'd stop Shouting "Fuck me, you wop!" It turna da tool to spaghetti!'
Said my wife as she stood on a rostrum, "I don't mind if I don't have colostrum, But I'll take an option, If your child's for adoption-- Though I cannot bear kids, I can foster 'em."
A Southern Alberta Rotarian Was possessed of a long and a hairy 'un. It was always erect And is why, we suspect, He was known as "Bone-on the Calgarian".
Said a pupil of Einstein: 'It's rotten To find I'd completely forgotten That by living so fast All my future's my past, And I'm buried before I'm begotten.'
There was a rich old roué Who felt himself slipping away. He endowed a large ward In a house where he'd whored. Was there a crowd at his funeral? I'll say!
His jokes were funny, if rough - He's really a musical tough: He relished a brawl With sopranos who squall From his window, "Handel! Enough!!". Da Capo.
round - see whorehounder
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IndexA Manhattan cabbie named Rourke Has a clever design on his dork: When he gives it a feel It expands to reveal An excellent map of New York
A hopeful old fellow called Rousseau, Saw that man was not born bad, but grew so; If you change his surrounding, You'll find grace abounding - You must turn the clock back to do so.
Two dykes went their separate routes: Said one, "I just don't five two hoots. No common tie linked us Except cunnilinctus, And a penchant for Brooks Brothers suits.
A certain young lady named Rowell, Had a musical vent to her bowel. With a good plate of beans Tucked under her jeans, She could play To a Wild Rose by MacDowell.
A torpedoed seaman named Rowell, Was flagging a ship with a towel. As the rescuers started, He excitedly farted, And blew himself back to Rabaul.
"Though I'm pretty broadminded," lisped Roy, As he sat at the bar and looked coy. "Though the women who think They can thway me with dwink, Thoon thee that I'm not that thort of boy!"
There was a young man named Royal, Whose ambition was to be a moyhel. He worked and he toiled, But was finally foiled, When he tried it out on a goil.
Royalty - see objected
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IndexThere was a young man known as Royce, Who took an emetic by choice. He was fed, quite by chance, Half the crotch of the pants Of a girl who kept crab-lice for toys.
There was a young artist named Royce, Who tired of women and boys. Said he with a sigh, "I fear I must try Wiggly worms for my sexual joys."
There once was a eunuch of Roylem, Took two eggs to the cook and said, "Boil 'em. I'll sling 'em beneath My inadequate sheath, And slip into the harem and foil 'em."
The parish commission at Roylette Bought their vicar a pristine new toilet But he still voids his bowels On a heap of old towels He's so damned reluctant to soil it
A jaded old faggot named Roys, Tired of transvestites and boys, Said he, with a sigh, "I'm afraid I must try, A woman for sexual joys."
Rozzer - see Louise
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IndexPolyisoprenes, alias rubbers, Were first worn on the feet of landlubbers. Now they're use to appease Venereal disease Much better than pharmaceutical scrubbers.
Daily Ditty 53 Saturday, 9 August 1997
"Mr. Jones," said Miss Smith, "Is quite rude, Impolite and a boor, even lewd "But I wonder," said she, "If perhaps he'd be free To discuss it with me in the nude?" "Miss Smith, I am told, is a prude," Said John Jones, ever vulgar and crude, "But just to do good I'll meet her in the wood ... " I'll leave you to guess what ensued.
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IndexI breathe as though wrapped in a rolled rug. My nose is stopped up like an old jug. I must stop my ravin', It's dreamland I'm cravin', But how can I sleep with this cold bug?
Rugger - see Czechs
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IndexThere was a young fellow named Rule, Who went to a library school. As he fingered the index, His thoughts ran to sex, And his blood all ran to his tool.
When the White Man attempted to rule The Indians made him a fool. They cut off his nuts To hang in their huts, And stuffed up his mouth with his tool.
rulings - see monsters
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IndexThere was a young man who drank rum. In time he became a rank bum, And his morals regressed. I have tried the same test, And I have to confess mine shrank some.
To the aid of those impotent rummies, Whose tools dangle under their tummies, Came a genius named Gardner Who devised such a hardener, It erects even long-deceased mummies.
Are you looking for wenching and rumming? In India, you'll find everything humming. With a Hindu gal, sex Is so gaily complex, You won't know if you're going or coming.
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IndexThere was a young fellow named Rummy who delighted in whipping his dummy. He played pocket pool With his happy old tool Till his shorts and his pants were all [comey | cummy].
The village was giddy with rumors Of a goat who was suffering from tumors. Cans and library paste Were quite to his taste, But he choked on Elizabeth's bloomers.
My wife has an elegant rump. Whenever a man has to hump, He's invited to hug her, And drug her and bugger The hole that is used as her dump. My wife is a glorious lay, She'll take it in any old way. You may bugger and French her, Or fuck her and drench her Hot womb with your genital spray. I've always loved buggering brother, And licking the cunt of my mother. But the joy of my life Is to see my sweet wife Suck pricks off, one after another! My wife in her best bib and tucker, Will ask men to please give her succor, Though each man she met Found her ovaries wet From the last man who happened to fuck her. My wife is a filly of wit. She'll say, "Go ahead, suck my tit; Beat my ass black and blue, And then you may screw Till you've squirted your spunk in my slit." There was a young man from Point Hunt. My wife asked him, "What do you want?" A tail, juicy, fine?-- Why don't you try mine?" So he shot off his prick in her cunt. A man asked my wife, "May we fuck?" "I'm flowing. Your cock let me suck. You can knock up at will My daughter - maid still - And cream off my sons, just for luck!" My wife is ideal for screwin', By kike, polack, mick, wop, or coon. Though we men much prefer When ejoying of her, To use it for pot or spittoon. A burglar named Willy O'Bangeller Said, "Cash, or your wife! Man, I'll mangle her, And rape her! Quick--Which?" I said, "Rape the bitch, And I'll suck off your prick if you strangle her."
When the White man attempted to [run | rule], The Indians made him a fool. They cut off his nuts To hang in their huts, And stuffed up his mouth with his tool.
In Pinter's new play that's now running, Our Harold's lost none of his cunning. Throughout the three acts, We hear just four facts, But the pauses between are quite stunning.
Daily Ditty 34 Monday 21 July 1997
I walked out with the bath water running Spied the beauty next door: She is sunning Now I only can guess If my bathroom's a mess (Would you leave a show half so stunning?)
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IndexNapoleon was a quaint little runt; He always was chasing some cunt. But when he gained fame Things weren't quite the same - The cunt now came chasing the runt.
[There once was an apple-cheeked | An apple-cheeked soldier, a] runt, [Who] Was welcomed [with joy | by men] at the front. This God's gift to he-men Prevented spilled semen, For his ass was tatooed like a cunt.
There was a young fellow named Runyan, Whose pecker came down with a bunion. When he had an erection, This painful infection, Gave off the faint odor of onion.
Daily Ditty 61 Sunday, 17 August 1997
Our forbears thought lobster quite rude It was "mud roach," not luxury food But right to this day, Though we call it gourmet, The best ways to eat it stay crude.
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IndexThere once was a steatopygian named Rush Whose cranium was packed full of mush He would bellow and bray Til the end of the day While dimwitted Ditto Heads gushed.
Said a girl from Staraya Russa, Whom the war had made looser and looser, 'Yes, I'm wormin' a German, A vermin named Hermann, But his dink is a lollapalooza!'
There once was a bugger named Russel Who adored a tight anal muscle. To enter with ease Required bear grease, With that tool, 'twas a real hustle-bustle.
Said the famous philosopher, Russell: 'One can come without moving a muscle. When sufficiently blotto, Just watch Lady Otto- line's bum as it bursts from her bustle.'
Said a steaming young lady named Russell, As she piled into bed for a tussle, "I've got a hot oven, So get busy shovin' - Start pushing in yards of love-muscle!"
To probe Miss Lillian Russell, Dr. Long thrust a pin through her bustle. He got a sprained wrist, And a mouthful of fist, For the bustle turned out to be muscle. I've a question to ask you, Miss Russell, Is all that development muscle? Or can that enormity Be a deformity - For instance an out-of-place bustle?
There was a Young Lady of Russia, Who screamed so that no one could hush her; Her screams were extreme, - No one heard such a scream As was screamed by that Lady of Russia.
Mixing joy and suspicion, one Russo, Told his bride, "My beloved, your trousseau Is virginal white, But it hardly seems right, That a virgin should know how to screw so!"
'Last night,' said a lassie named Ruth, 'In a long-distance telephone booth, I enjoyed the perfection Of an ideal connection - I was screwed, if you must know the truth.'
There was a young lady named Ruth, Who had a great passion for truth. She said she would die Before she would lie, But she died in the prime of her youth.
There was an old hooker named Ryan, Who kept tryin' and tryin' and tryin'. She tried all the way, From Maine to L.A., But not even the Okies were buyin'.
In Uganda a tourist named Ryan, Had his manhood nipped off by a lion. He cried, "Now I'm sorry I made this safari, For my great virile days are fast dyin'!"
There once was a fella' named Ryan. To fuck him the young girls were dying, But he made them all cry 'Cause he passed them all by. 'Twas guys that this Ryan was eyeing.
There was a young fellow of Ryde Who fell down a closet and died. He had a young brother Who fell down another, So now they're in turd side by side
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IndexThere was a Young Lady of Ryde Whose shoe-strings were seldom untied. She purchased some clogs, And some small spotted dogs And frequently walked about Ryde
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IndexThere was a young lady of Ryde, Whose locks were consid'rably dyed. The hue of her hair Made everyone stare 'She's piebald, she'll die bald!' they cried.
There was a young lady of Ryde, Who ate some green apples and died; The apples fermented Inside the lamented, And made cider inside her inside.
There was a young lady of Ryde Who was carried too far by the tide; Cried a man-eating shark: 'How's this for a lark? I knew that the Lord would provide.'
There was a young lady from Ryde, Who a sailor took on for a bride. It wasn't the sailor, Who managed to nail her, But the semen inside her inside.
The Prescription
There was a young lady of Ryde Whose sexual feelings had died; She went to the doctor Who promptly defrocked her And told her to spread her legs wide. After using his fingers for stroking And prodding and prying and poking He said with a grin "Did you feel me go in?" She said, "No, but my panties are soaking." Still grinning he said, "Only moose Have vaginas so floppy and loose. Your G-spot is worn And your clitoris torn. Diagnosis? Vibrator abuse." "If you leave it alone for a bit", Said the doc as he fondled her tit, "And return in a week Then I'll give you a tweak Just to check on the state of your clit." "But doctor", she said, "I don't use A vibrator to aid self-abuse I find for a drilling Bananas are thrilling And carrots I like to misuse" "No wonder", he said, "you feel numb." As he rubbed at her clit with his thumb. "What you need for a treat Is a length of my meat A prescription for making you cum."The Prescription for Redemption
Although I respect your profession, I have a contrary impression. The girl is not stricken By lack of a dickin', But rather, demonic possession. Religion that's fat, long and wide, No doubt is what she needs inside. I propose mine - I know it's divine When "Great God Almighty!" is cried. So write her a Holy-Roll 'scrip, Her catacomb then I may rip. Through sacred transgression I'll take her confession, Then witness her tremble and drip. And when she is spastically jointed, And gushing from where I just pointed, I'll libate my phallus With wine from a chalice, Proclaiming her fully anointed.
Ryhill - see Byhill
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IndexThere was an Old Person of Rye, Who went up to town on a Fly; But they said, "If you cough, You are safe to fall off! You abstemious Old Person of Rye!"
There was a young lady from Rye, Who was roundly misused by a guy. She did not feel abused, At being so used. She was happy to give it a try.
There was an old lady in Rye Who was baked by mistake in a pie. To the household's disgust, She emerged through the crust And exclaimed, with a yawn, "Where am I?"
A psychiatrist fellow from Rye Went to visit another close by, Who said, with a grin, As he welcomed him in: 'Hullo, Smith! You're all right! How am I?'
There was a young lady of Rye With a shape like a capital I. When they said, 'It's too bad,' She learned how to pad; Which shows you that figures can lie.
There was an old lady of Rye, With a terrible look in her eye. No person would dare To respond to her stare, Or taste her hot blueberry pie!
Said a young bridegroom boarding at Rye, To his bride who was dreadfully shy: "Now we're properly wed And together in bed, If you can't, you can bloody well try!"
Said a very proud farmer at Ryegate, When the squire rode up to his high gate, 'With your horse and your hound You had better go round, For, I say, you shan't jump over my gate.'