Freebsd Limericks

There was an old count of Swoboda
Who would not pay a whore what he owed her.
        So, with great savoir-faire,
        She stood on a chair
And pissed in his whiskey-and-soda.

There was an old curate of Hestion
Who'd errect at the slightest suggestion.
        But so small was his tool
        He could scarce screw a spool,
And a cunt was quite out of the question.

There was an old fellow named Art
Who awoke with a horrible start,
        For down by his rump
        Was a generous lump
Of what should have been just a fart.

There was an old fellow named Skinner
Whose prick, his wife said, had grown thinner.
        But still, by and large,
        It would always discharge
Once he could just get it in her.

There was an old feminine blighter
Who trained a Chow dog to delight her.
        She would cream her own pool
        While she sucked off his tool --
How his cock in her cunt would excite her!

There was an old gent from Kentuck
Who boasted a filigreed schmuck,
        But he put it away
        For fear that one day
He might put it in and get stuck.

There was an old girl of Kilkenny
Whose usual charge was a penny.
        For half of that sum
        You could finger her bum--
A source of amusement to many.

There was an old harlot from Dijon
Who in her old age got religion.
        "When I'm dead & gone,"
         Said she, "I'll take on
The Father, the Son, and the Pigeon."

There was an old hermit named Dave
Who kept a dead whore in his cave.
        He said "I'll admit
        I'm a bit of a shit,
But look at the money I save."

There was an old lady of Bingly
Who wailed, "I do hate to sleep singly.
        I thought I had got
        A bloke for my twat,
But he seems rather queenly than kingly."