Автор неизвестен
Лимерики, считалки
Лимерики, считалки
Лимерики
Как-то раз шесть работников морга Избирали из трупов парторга. Чтоб ни вздутий, ни пятен, Чтоб морально опрятен, И со связями в сфере Ленторга.
Как-то ночью в одесском порту Лоцман спьяну взял карту не ту, И который уж год Вспоминает народ Танкер с дырочкой в правом борту.
Как-то раз каллиграф в Поднебесной Начертал иероглиф известный На стене туалета И казнен был за это В назидание всей Поднебесной.
Очень грубый швейцар из Перми Знал три ноты всего: до, ре, ми. И, помимо того, Знал три буквы всего, Он их часто писал над дверьми.
Как-то раз председатель колхоза Недовыполнил план по навозу. Чтобы выполнить план, По совету сельчан, Дал пургену коровам и козам.
На картинках в журнале "Андрей" Не найдете ни птиц, ни зверей. Хорошо, что хотя бы Есть там голые бабы; Сразу видно, редактор -- еврей.
Одному мудрецу из Бенгалии В Новый Год подарили сандалии. Будет в новом году Чем кидать в какаду, Чтоб не пели на пальмах, каналии!
Одному мудрецу из Бенгалии Повредили в бою гениталии. Недород в их роду Будет в новом году, Голод, засуха, мор и так далее.
Три веселых старушки из Гомеля Тридцать лет на еде экономили. До чего же худы У старушек зады, Зато талии - лучшие в Гомеле.
Один господин из Бердичева Сел на след испражнения птичьего. Оглядевши свой фрак Он сказал: "Ето знак, Только смысл не могу я постичь его".
Городок разделяет река, С двух сторон у нее берега, Я живу на одном, Ну, а ты на другом, А до смерти четыре шага.
Сбросив тещу с моста над рекой Я устроил ей вечный покой. И неясно прохожим В этот день непогожий Почему я веселый такой.
На затылок задвинувши кепи, Шел Есенин, любуясь на степи. Вдруг вдали, у реки Засверкали штыки Это белогвардейские цепи...
Говорят, что Борис Пастернак Посещал по субботам бардак. Только все это враки: В бардаки Пастернаки По субботам не ходят никак!
Николая Островского в школе Педагоги частенько пороли. Нам беднягу не жаль: Закалились, как сталь, Ягодицы Островского Коли.
У писателя графа Толстого Революция в зеркале снова. Уже пятые сутки Эти гнусные шутки Продолжаются, честное слово!
Жил артист в подмосковном Клину, Немцев в фильмах играл про войну Этот мрачный урод, И, представьте, народным в Германии стал. Ну и ну!
Раз нашли на заводе Бадаева Неизвестный дневник Чаадаева. Что ни слово, то ять, Ничего не понять, И девать неизвестно куда его.
Господин Бонасье, муж Констанции, Сочинял докладные в инстанции. Что ни день, то доносец... Вот ведь как: рогоносец, А борец за величие Франции!
Мусульманин Абу-Бен-Симбел Виски ложкой столовою ел. На вопрос, в чем причина, Он сказал: "Дурачина! ПИТь спиртное Аллах не велел".
Девица одна из Орла Проницательна очень была, И зачем ее джином Угощают мужчины, Понимала, но все же пила.
Считалочки
1 (Один)
На большую дорогу 1 Выходил музыкант Бор-1 И случайных прохожих Бил при этом по роже Эксцентрический сей госп-1
2 (Два)
Подавальщицы Галя да Валя Ресторан основали в по-2-ле Кавалеры по 2 Прибывали в по-2-л Только есть там е-2 ли давали.
3 (Три)
С 3-буны 3-щала Ка-3-н: "О-3-каюсь от гнусных мужчин!" Брось 3-паться, Ка-3-н, Для 3-вог нет причин, Не желает тебя ни 1.
5 (Пять)
От возникших на лысине 5-ен Горбачев окончательно с-5-ил. Не давал людям вы-5, Вски-5-ил речку При-5 И Борис его живо по-5-ил.
200 (Двести)
200-рвозных девицы из бани По-200 их просили на кране. Заявили: "Нет места?! На стреле нас по-200!" Ра-200 их шофер дядя Ваня!
Lymerics
The following limericks are taken from Gershon Legman's two-volume collection.
* * *
There was a young girl of Darjeeling Who could dance with such exquisite feeling
There was never a sound
For miles around Save of fly-buttons hitting the ceiling.
* * *
There was a young fellow of Mayence Who fucked his own arse, in defiance
Not only of custom
And morals, dad-bust him, But most of the known laws of science.
* * *
There was a young fellow of Ealing, Devoid of all delicate feeling.
When he read on the door:
`Don't shit on the floor' He jumped up and shat on the ceiling.
* * *
There was a young lady of Fismes Who amazingly voided four streams.
A friend poked around
And a fly-button found Wedged tightly in one of her seams.
* * *
There was a young man named O'Rourke, Heard babies were brought by the stork,
So he went to the zoo
And attempted to screw One old bird -- end-result: didn't work.
* * *
There was a young fellow named Veach Who fell fast asleep on the beach.
His dreams of nude women
Had his proud organ brimming And squirting on all within reach.
* * *
There was a young lady of Gloucester Whose friends they thought they had lost her,
Till they found on the grass
The marks of her arse, And of the knees of the man who had crossed her.
* * *
A pansy who lived in Khartoum Took a lesbian up to his room,
And they argued all night
Over who had the right To do what, and with which, and to whom.
* * *
`My back aches. My penis is sore. I simply can't fuck any more.
I'm dripping with sweat,
And you haven't come yet; And, my God! it's a quarter to four!'
* * *
There was a young Jewess named Hannah Who sucked off her lover's banana.
She swore that the cream
That shot out in a stream Tasted better than Biblical manna.
* * *
A worried young man from Stamboul Discovered red spots on his tool.
Said the doctor, a cynic,
`Get out of my clinic! Just wipe off the lipstick, you fool.'
* * *
There was a young fellow named Lancelot Whom his neighbors all looked on askance a lot.
Whenever he'd pass
A presentable lass, The front of his pants would advance a lot.
* * *
Exclaimed a young girl in Kildare, As her lover's jock towered in air,
`If that goes in me I
Shall certainly die -As I shall if it doesn't go there.'
* * *
There was a young girl of Spitzbergen Whose people all thought her a virgin,
Till they found her in bed
With her quim very red, And the head of a kid just emergin'.
* * *
There was a young fellow named Bliss Whose sex life was strangely amiss,
For even with Venus
His recalcitrant penis Would never do better than t
h
i
s
.
* * *
There was a young maid from Madras Who had a magnificent ass;
Not rounded and pink,
As you probably think -It was grey, had long ears, and ate grass.
* * *
The nipples of Sarah Sarong, When excited, are twelve inches long.
This embarrassed her lover
Who was pained to discover She expected no less of his dong.
SOCIALLY CONSCIOUS PORNOGRAPHY
We've socially conscious biography, Esthetics, and social geography.
Today every field
Boasts its Marxian yield, So now there's class-conscious pornography.
Oh, the worker is nobody's fool, For by rights he's the man with the tool.
His ponderous prick'll
Arise with the sickle, And bugger the Fascists who rule.
Miss de Vaughan was a maker of panties For all girls from subdebs to grand-aunties.
Her very best ad
Was herself, lightly clad In her three-ninety-five silken scanties.
So this wench is a capitalist, She's our villain and ought to be hissed.
But she's lush and she's plump,
And a glimpse of her rump Would teach Marx that there's something he's missed.
Now de Vaughan had resolved on a lock-out To give Communist Labor the knock-out.
She said, 'Fuck the foul fools.'
(She'd attended good schools), And took a fresh bottle of Hock out.
Joseph Smith was a sturdy longshoreman (And an eminent amateur whoreman).
Just to be sympathetic
He grew peripatetic, 'Til his picketing irked de Vaughan's doorman.
For this lout was a scab born and bred, Who fainted whene'er he saw red:
In distress he reported,
But she only retorted, `Run home and hide under your bed.'
For her plans were peculiar and wicked, As she thought, `He's a man, if a picket.'
She lured him inside
And insidiously plied The prick of the picket to lick it.
Joe's rod was stiff as a rail, But he couldn't let principles fail.
`You degenerate bitch,
That's a trick of the rich; But the people prefer honest tail.
`You may tickle the cocks and the vanities Of the rich men who purchase your scanities,
But the proud People's front
Calls for sound hairy cunt. So it's down with de Vaughan's panty-wanities.'
He picked a soft couch in her office, And tore off her pants and ripped off his.
Then he showed her the rod
Marks the difference, by God, Between what a man and a toff is.
Now our Joe was the first proletarian Who had filled with his sperm the ovarian
Recess of de Vaughan,
Which had sheltered the spawn Of unnumbered Fascists, all Aryan.
Next day his friends said, `You've been soaring, You're dead on your feet. Were you whoring?'
He replied, `Starving masses
Mean more than plump asses. Last night from within I was boring.'
And de Vaughan thought her troubles were over, Her picket had left (to recover),
But he'd furnished her womb
With incipient bloom: A fact she had yet to discover.
So after nine months, to the day, The employer in labor pains lay.
As the boy hove in sight
He yelled, `WORKERS UNITE!' And the doctors all fainted away.
