These are Irish limericks that are rated
for all ages. They're really
funny!
There was an old man of Kilbride,
Who slipped in a sewer and died.
His stupid young brother,
Went into another,
And the verdict on both was "sewercide".
A ghost in the town of Macroom,
One night found a ghoul in his room.
They argued all night,
As to which had the right,
To frighten the wits out of whom.
A great Irish thinker named Berkeley,
Expressed his beliefs, oh, so starkly.
"Almost all that we see,
Cannot possibly be,
And the rest I conceive is unlarkly."
A dieting girleen named Flynn,
Reduced until she was thin.
She's no more, I'm afraid,
For she sipped lemonade,
And slipped though the straw to fall in.
A girl from Belfast name of Alice,
Drew rude things on the Vatican Palace.
She said, 'Now this deed,
Comes from aesthetic need,
And not from a Protestant malice.'
An ambitious girl in Kilskyre,
Used paraffin lighting a fire.
She soared into the sky,
Without even 'Good-bye,'
Now her place in the world is much
higher.
A coy maiden of Glenmalure,
Had a mind that was perfectly pure.
She fainted away,
In a delicate way,
If anyone spoke of manure.
There was a young fellow named Peadar,
Who seemed to grow madder and madder.
He ate nothing but glue,
And was stuck through and through,
Which made him much saner but sadder.
'My girlfriend,' cried love-worn Flann,
'Will make a good cook for a man.'
'I will,' she agreed,
'Give him fine feed,
But jam I can't make, though I can.'
A landlady mean in Ardee,
Served little of honey at tea.
A new lodger said,
As he shook a sad head,
'I'm glad, Mam, to see you've one bee.'
A nun in a convent in Bray,
Saw her roses go into decay.
Reverend Mother said, 'Dear,
Please no longer fear,
Here's liquid manure, let us spray.'
There was a young lady of Cork,
Whose Pa made a fortune in pork.
He bought for his daughter,
A tutor who taught her,
To balance green peas on her fork!
A canner exceedingly canny,
One morning remarked to his granny;
"A canner can can
Anything that he can,
But a canner can't can a can, can he?"
There once were two cats in Kilkenny,
Each thought there was one cat too many.
So they scratched and they spit,
And they tore and they bit,
Now, instead of two cats, there aren't
any!
There was once a student named Essar,
Whose knowledge got lesser and lesser.
It at last grew so small,
He knew nothing at all,
And now he's a college professor!
There was an old man from Peru,
Who dreamt he was eating his shoe.
He awoke one night,
In a terrible fright---
And found it was perfectly true!
There was a young lady named Banker,
Who slept while the ship lay at anchor.
She awoke in dismay,
When she heard the mate say,
"Now hoist up the topsheet and spanker!"
There was a lady from Guam,
Who said, "Now the ocean's so calm;
I will swim for a lark."
She encountered a shark---
Let us now sing the 23rd Psalm.
There was a young man of Fort Worth,
Who was born on the day of his birth.
He was married, some say,
On his wife's wedding day,
And he died when he quitted the earth.
There was an old man of Blackheath,
Who sat on his set of false teeth.
He cried, with a start,
"Oh, Lord bless my heart!
I've bitten myself underneath!"
A tutor who tooted a flute,
Tried to teach two young tooters to toot.
Said the two to the tutor,
"Is it harder to toot, or
To tutor two tooters to toot?"
There was an old gent quite weird,
He shrieked, " 'Tis just as I feared!
Two owls and a hen,
Four larks and a wren,
Have all built their nests in my beard!"
An epicure dining at Crewe,
Found quite a large mouse in the stew.
Said the waiter, "Don't shout
And wave it about,
Or the rest will be wanting one too!"
There was a young fellow of Wheeling,
Endowed with such delicate feeling.
When he read on the door,
"Don't spit on the floor,"
He jumped up and spat on the ceiling!
There was an old man of Cadiz,
Who affirmed that life is what it is.
For he early had learnt,
If it were what it weren't,
It could not be that which it is!
A flea and a fly in a flue,
Were imprisoned, so what could they do?
Said the fly, "Let us flee!"
Said the flea, "Let us fly!"
So they flew through a flaw in the flue!
And a Canadian limerick:
A Canadian lad named Peck,
Was frozen right up to his neck.
When asked "Are you froze?"
He said, "I suppose!
But we don't call this cold in Quebec!"
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