Archive for the ‘Bawdy Limericks’ Category

Limerick Rut

Wednesday, April 15th, 2015

Limerick Rut
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A fellow was stuck in a rut.
It depressed him down deep in his gut.
So he vowed to reform
And conform to the norm–
He would curb all his groovin’ on smut.

Use Your Noodles, Guys! (Limerick)

Thursday, April 2nd, 2015

Use Your Noodles, Guys! (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A fellow with oodles of cash
Met a slut at a dog-lovers bash.
She’d borrowed a poodle.
Her target? His boodle.
Their canoodling was pricey and rash.

The Almost Naked Truth

Tuesday, February 24th, 2015

I love this headline: “Mother, 29, who ran through hotel naked ‘after her friend stole her pants’ is slapped with an obscenity charge.”

Not only did it make me laugh, but it reminded me of my own personal experience, memorialized in this humor column I wrote way back in the Twentieth Century:

A Traveler’s Net Woes
By Madeleine Begun Kane

If your husband ever invites you to join him on a business trip, be sure to ask him these questions:
1. Will you ever get to see him while he is not — technically — asleep?
2. What will he do, if you accidentally lock yourself out of your hotel room in the middle of the night while you are not — technically — dressed?

Unfortunately, I didn’t think to ask these questions when my husband Mark invited me to join him for a six-week Boston business trip. So I had to learn the answers the hard way:
1. No.
2. He will remain — technically — asleep.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Back when my husband urged me to accompany him, all I could focus on was:
1. Whether I could pack my cappuccino machine;
2. Whether I’d get any writing done so far from home; and
3. Whether we’d have reliable net access in our room.

Okay, I admit it: I’m a little — okay a lot — hooked on cappuccino and the on-line life. And I never — ever — go to sleep without reading my email and surfing the web.

Anyway, Mark managed to convince me that working out of a hotel room in a strange city would inspire new, creative ideas. He also swore that Boston is a modern city with lots of cappuccino and Internet connections. So I reluctantly accompanied him, after packing enough gear for a year.

We checked in late that first night, and the accommodations (paid for by Mark’s client) were luxurious. But I gave no thought to our lovely hotel, the sites and sounds of Boston, or the excitement of living in a new city. While Mark unpacked, requested a wake-up call, and ooohed and aaahed at the view, I foraged for a modem connection. Only one view mattered to me — the blank one on my laptop screen.

Finally, I had the computer set up. I began to relax, happy in the knowledge that any minute I’d … What’s this? An error message? What did they mean “no dial tone”?

It must be some mistake, I told myself, as I tried to sign on again and again and again. After a dozen failed attempts I was even reduced to violating my “don’t crawl on a strange rug” rule. Struggling to reach the wall behind the desk and bed, I squeezed my arm into places it didn’t belong, pulling and pushing and tugging at anything that looked important. And trying to spot a loose connection … aside from the one in my brain.

Now a normal person would probably have given up and gone to bed after 10 or 20 or 30 failed attempts to sign on-line. (By this time, Mark had been asleep nearly an hour.) But the more disconnects I got, the more determined I was to access my net account. Am I stubborn? Yes. Plus I really needed my pre-sleep fix.

So I persisted, all the while cursing out computers, the hotel, my husband’s client, and my husband, who apparently enjoys having his bed shoved across the room while he’s sound asleep.

Then it hit me — the kind of revelation one only gets way past midnight. I’d simply phone the concierge, and he’d do some concierge type thing and get it fixed. So I picked up the phone and — you guessed it — it was as dead as my modem.

You moron, I castigated myself, as I tried to guess whether I was being personally singled out for email deprivation.

Just then, I heard a sound in the hall. Eager to find out if anyone else had phone service, and forgetting that my attire (or lack thereof) would get me arrested in many countries, I rushed out the door, wedging it open with a shoe. Luckily (I thought) the sounds were coming from the next room, whose door was ajar.

“Do you have phone service?” I asked a female guest, who was still gripping her luggage.

She didn’t answer. Instead she stared at me blankly, no doubt wondering why some barefoot, barely clad crazy woman was standing in her doorway at 3 a.m.

“Do you have phone service?” I repeated.

“No speak English,” she said, as she put down her suitcase and looked around the room, possibly for a weapon. Now desperate, I attempted to mime talking on the phone. But she apparently didn’t speak mime either.

At this point, I’m afraid I did something that can only be characterized as insane; I strode into the room, walked right past her to the far end, and picked up her phone. It was dead. This was good news, because you need a phone to get someone arrested for trespass.

I put the receiver down and belatedly began to apologize. But the woman ignored me — she was embroiled in some incomprehensible dialogue with a man (her husband?) who had apparently been in the bathroom when I invaded their room. Were they plotting my demise?

I crossed the room as quickly as I could and darted past them, hoping they wouldn’t try to stop me. And that they understood the meaning of the word “sorry.”

Finally I made it out of there, and they slammed the door behind me. Relieved, I turned toward my room and, after tripping over my failed-wedge shoe, I discovered another shut door — my own.

Ten minutes of door pounding later I was still stranded in the hall, and Mark (who can sleep through anything) was still sound asleep.

By now I was more or less resigned to going to bed without reading my e-mail. But no way was I sleeping in the hall.

I probably would have continued my futile pounding, but adding the crime of “destroying the peace” to trespass didn’t seem wise. And getting thrown out of the hotel probably wouldn’t help Mark’s consultant/client relations.

But what else could I do? I couldn’t very well take the elevator downstairs and beg the concierge for a key while I was dressed like this, could I?

Apparently, I could. I started down the hallway, moving as quickly as I could manage, and fervently hoping I wouldn’t meet anyone en route. Fortunately, every reasonably sane person was asleep by then. So the halls and elevator were empty, and I even made it down eight floors to the lobby nonstop. I was so relieved, I didn’t even mind the strange looks I got from the couple getting on as I got off. Or the amused grin from the concierge when I told him I needed help.

“Phone problems?” he asked, looking me up and down.

“For starters,” I answered.

“Sorry, everything’s down at least until late morning. Anything else I can do for you?”

“Yes, I locked myself out of my room. Could you…?”

“Yes, I can see you did. Hold on and I’ll get my keys.”

“This is very embarrassing.”

He took another look and grinned again. “No problem. I’ve seen a lot worse.”

Throughout the elevator ride up and the walk to my room he regaled me with tales of locked-out guests stranded in garb that made me appear ready for a full dress ball. Then he placed his key in the door and said, “Do you have any ID?”

“What?” I said, beginning to panic. “Where would I…?”

“Just kidding,” he said as he unlocked the door.

Safely back in my room, I found Mark sound asleep. Exhausted and angry, I stared at him, willing him awake. I could have been kidnapped from the room in the middle of the night, and he would never have known. I could have …

Suddenly, Mark sat up. “What is it?” he said.

“Didn’t you notice I was gone?”

“What are you talking about? One sec. I have to go to the bathroom.”

“What were you saying?” Mark said as he climbed back into bed.

“Never mind. But you should set your alarm. The phones are broken, and you probably won’t get that wake-up call.”

“Thanks,” he said as he fiddled with the clock and lay back down to sleep. “What did you do to their phones?” he added just before he began to snore.

Yoga Tale (Limerick)

Tuesday, January 13th, 2015

Yoga Tale (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A student was learning a stretch
From her yoga instructor — a lech
Who made passes in classes;
He loved fetching asses.
A class action’s been filed v. that wretch.

*****
View my Yoga Tale Limerick image here.

Fleeing Limericks (Limerick-Off Monday)

Saturday, September 6th, 2014

It’s Limerick-Off time, once again. And that means I write a limerick, and you write your own, using the same first line. Then you post your limerick here and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.

The best submission will be crowned Limerick Of The Week. (Here’s last week’s Limerick Of The Week Winner.)

How will your poems be judged? By meter, rhyme, cleverness, and humor. (If you’re feeling a bit fuzzy about limerick writing rules, here’s my How To Write A Limerick article.)

I’ll announce the Limerick of the Week Winner next Sunday, right before I post next week’s Limerick-Off. So that gives you a full week to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)

I hope you’ll join me in writing a limerick with this first line:

A fellow was tempted to flee…*

or

A dog owner spotted a flea…*

or

A man who would not hurt a flea…*

*(Please note that minor variations to my first lines are acceptable. However, rhyme words may not be altered, except by using homonyms or homophones.)

Here’s my limerick:

Fleeing Limericks
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A fellow was tempted to flee
While enjoying a sexual spree,
Cuz an absence of tact
Interfered with the “act”–
He distinctly heard someone’s “Tee-hee!”

Please feel free to write your own limerick using the same first line and post it in my comments. And if you’re on Facebook, I hope you’ll join my friends in that same activity on my Facebook Limerick-Off post.

To receive an email alert whenever I post a new Limerick-Off, please email Madkane@MadKane.com Subject: MadKane’s Newsletter. Thanks!

Foul Limerick

Friday, September 5th, 2014

Foul Limerick
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A man in a very foul mood
Had caught his new wife with some dude –
A handsome young guy.
Her response, when asked why:
“He looks better than you in the nude.”

Sex Post Facto (Limerick)

Tuesday, August 19th, 2014

Sex Post Facto (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

What’s the worst you can say after sex?
That question continues to vex.
But you’ll soon be a loner
With this little boner:
“You’re not even as good as my ex.”

Is This What We Need? What We Really Really Need? (Limerick)

Monday, August 4th, 2014

Is This What We Need? What We Really Really Need? (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A vibrator necklace is handy
When you’re feeling a little bit randy
And no one’s on hand–
You’re alone and unmanned.
Failing that, reach for candy and brandy.

***

And yes, you really can buy a sex toy vibrator necklace.

Limerick Ode To “National Orgasm Day”

Thursday, July 31st, 2014

Limerick Ode To “National Orgasm Day” (July 31)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

It’s “National Orgasm Day.”
Just one day? I’m dismayed and say “Nay!”
To limit “Big Os”
Surely cries out for “NOs.”
I propose: Make it daily! Okay?

Sex Toys Are In The Eye Of The Beholder (Limerick)

Wednesday, July 16th, 2014

Are the “dog toys” pictured in this article really meant for canines? Or are they sex toys for humans? You be the judge. But if they turn you on, you can buy them on Amazon.

Sex Toys Are In The Eye Of The Beholder (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Too shy to buy sex toys? Oh my!
There’s an option you might want to try:
It seems some are disguised
As doggy toys — sized
And designed to give pleasure thereby.

Fruity Study? (Limerick)

Tuesday, July 15th, 2014

Fruity Study? (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Though I don’t want to lead you astray,
It appears that an apple a day
Is a way to enhance
A gal’s sex life, perchance.
I’m not ribbing you. Mālum? Hooray!

According to a sex study with a rather small sample size, apples might possibly be a libido booster.

Happy “Nude Day!” (July 14)

Monday, July 14th, 2014

Limerick Ode To “Nude Day”
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A gal likes to publicly doff
All her clothing, then pose to show off.
“It’s a strip search time-saver
I did you a favor,”
When jailed, she’ll transparently scoff.

Brooklyn’s Nutty Penis Contest (Limerick)

Thursday, June 19th, 2014

I can’t possibly resist writing about Brooklyn’s Smallest Penis Contest.

Brooklyn’s Nutty Penis Contest (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A contest for tiniest dick
Might strike you as utterly sick.
But “reverse chic” is “in,”
So a dick, short and thin,
By that measure might just do the trick.

Dear Doc (Limerick)

Monday, June 16th, 2014

Dear Doc (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Although surgery’s surely a grind,
It with sexting ought NOT be combined.
’Tis a practice that’s mal;
A risk to the gal
Or guy patients. I’m guessing they’d mind.

(Inspired by this story: Doctor suspended amid charges of sexting during surgery)

Cursing’s Healthy, I Swear (Limerick)

Thursday, May 15th, 2014

Cursing’s Healthy, I Swear (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

New research, Brit experts declare,
Has revealed that it’s healthy to swear.
So you damn SOBs,
No more slamming my ease
With the expletive. Carpers beware!

Limerick Disguise (Limerick-Off Monday)

Saturday, April 26th, 2014

It’s Limerick-Off time, once again. And that means I write a limerick, and you write your own, using the same first line. Then you post your limerick here and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.

The best submission will be crowned Limerick Of The Week. (Here’s last week’s Limerick Of The Week Winner.)

How will your poems be judged? By meter, rhyme, cleverness, and humor. (If you’re feeling a bit fuzzy about limerick writing rules, here’s my How To Write A Limerick article.)

I’ll announce the Limerick of the Week Winner next Sunday, right before I post next week’s Limerick-Off. So that gives you a full week to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday at 11:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)

I hope you’ll join me in writing a limerick with this first line:

A woman was dating three guys…*

or

A fellow was out with the guys…*

or

A fellow who wore a disguise…*

or

A gal was just one of the guys…*

*(Please note that minor variations to my first lines are acceptable. However, rhyme words may not be altered, except by using homonyms or homophones.)

Here’s my limerick:

Limerick Disguise
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A sales clerk who dates many guys
Keeps them coming with kudos and lies.
She’ll bellow in bed,
“What wonderful head!”
A whopper each buys — no surprise!

Please feel free to write your own limerick using the same first line and post it in my comments. And if you’re on Facebook, I hope you’ll join my friends in that same activity on my Facebook Limerick-Off post.

To receive an email alert whenever I post a new Limerick-Off, please email Madkane@MadKane.com Subject: MadKane’s Newsletter. Thanks!

Nosy Neighbor Appreciation Day (Limerick)

Thursday, April 17th, 2014

Happy “Nosy Neighbor Appreciation Day!” Yes there’s really such a day, though I’m pretty sure this isn’t what they’re talking about:

Nosy Neighbor Appreciation Day (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

A man with a habit of peeping
Into homes while their owners are sleeping
Was arrested and tried.
His appeal’s been denied.
Now he’s jailed for his neighbors’ safekeeping.

Smut Studies (Limerick)

Monday, March 24th, 2014

How could I possibly ignore a title like “‘Porn Studies’: The world’s newest scholarly journal?”

Smut Studies (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

So-called “scholars” expect us to think
That the “study” of porn is worth ink.
Seems this “labor of love”
Has a goal: rise above
All the dirt and gain insight. (Wink, wink.)

Without Common Sense, We’re Toast (Limerick)

Tuesday, November 5th, 2013

I couldn’t possibly resist a title like this: “London firefighters urge ‘common sense’ after penis freed from toaster.

Without Common Sense, We’re Toast (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

When devising some bedroom delights,
It ain’t right to try reaching new heights
With devices like toasters
And blenders and roasters,
Else your privates might need their last rites.

When Sex Is A Train Wreck (Limerick)

Wednesday, October 2nd, 2013

A striking headline: Train Runs Over Couple Having Sex on Tracks.

When Sex Is A Train Wreck (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

There are folks who like sex when it’s risky.
Taking chances can make them quite frisky.
But sex on the tracks,
Is mad to the max.
Their coitus, I’d guess, involved whiskey.