I would think Snuff would go hand in hand with a good, nasty limerick. Lately I have been working on a collection of new limericks, which I hope to get published within a few years. Right now I’ve got about 40 written, and need about 300 before I publish the book. All I can find when I buy limerick books, are the old standards that I’ve heard a hundred times. Anyone else like these wonderful little poems?
There once was an old man named Bob And for anything his heart would throb From a cunt to a cock To a jelly filled sock And when desperate a greased up door knob
Of course I’ve got to go for The Prospector Limerick. An old desert rat named Burdew Came to town one day for a screw. He threw down a quarter And drawled out, “That orter Cover a quick poke or two.” The madam looked very askance At the grime on his shirt and his pants, His scruffy gray beard, The eyes that went weird, And the odor that wasn’t from France. “Ol” fella," she said with a grin, “For a quarter, I’ll let you right in To a room that’s just ripe For a man of your type And a gal that’s ideal for your sin.” The prospector’s eyes went aglow As the fire began burning below. His hands started shaking And his knees were aquaking. It was plain he was rarin’ to go. So they led him out back of the place To a shed with just enough space For the fattest pink sow, He’d seen anyhow With a sorta’ sweet smile on her face. Burdew shoved everyone aside, Slammed the door and was quickly astride His porky delight Where he spent the whole night In a passionate piggyback ride! At daybreak, Burdew poked his head Out of the tumbledown shed With a satisfied sigh, He said, “Miss Piggy and I Will be having our breakfast in bed.”