Some rather crude limericks I’ve written for a stand up show I’m doing soon. Enjoy!
My voice is bone dry, and my throat rather quite hoarse
The blame lies at my door, it’s all my fault of course
My skin is on fire.
My heartbeat gets higher.
Wanking with barbed wire and salt, tosser’s remorse.
I met a man called Horatio.
He asked me of my talents you know
Well you charming young scrumpet.
Not one to blow my trumpet.
But I’m great at self-felatio.