Poem number 4
A girl with no boobs in her bra
Said “A flat chest is better by far,
‘Cause golf is my thing –
Boobs would hamper my swing
And I’d never get round under par!”
Poem number 7
There was a man from Timbuktoo
Who only had one arm
He only had one nostril
But he had a lot of charm,
He met a lovely Prom Queen
They were wed on Christmas Day
In a church in the Sahara
By a Vicar who was gay.
Poem number 24
A Tea Limerick
She liked to drink loosely leafed tea
But the leaves passed right through to her wee
“You’ve blocked up the bog!”
Cried her husband, agog
“Use a strainer when having a pee!”
Poem number 39
Pope John Wayne
A Bishop once tried to elope
With a choirboy who worked for the Pope
But the Pontiff gave chase
On his horse Holy Lace
And lassoed them both back with a rope.
Poem number 60
I’m going to start a nunnery, I’m going to breed some nuns
I’ll sell them down the market from a van
I’ll start with just a few, and a breeding monk or two
Then expand it to an empire if I can.
I’ll buy the nuns from Ireland, where I hear they’ve got a glut
I’ll pay for them with fifty vats of sherry
I’ll check their teeth and feet, give them vegetables to eat
And then bring them back to England on the ferry.
My mother says I’m crazy, should come up with something else
But I’m ready, I am buzzing, in the zone
It’s the only plan I’ve got, so I’m giving it a shot
Just to prove a man can live on nuns alone.
So come to Krister’s Nunnery! The nuns are all first rate
Angel voices, well filled habits, meek and mild
If you want a Godly lady, come to me – I’m far from shady
Krister’s Nunnery, for nuns to drive you wild!
Poem number 65
Balderdash and piffle
(Said St. Peter at his Gate)
10am I told you and you’re half an hour late!
Don’t give me lame excuses
Like you’ve never died before –
Timeliness is Godliness
Now get in through this door,
Report at once to Kitchen 3
Today you’re peeling sprouts
Heaven is a WORKING place!
You got that? Sort it out!
Poem number 68
Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
A man whose whole body was hair
Was forced to perform as a bear
He danced and he roared
But the audience bored
And beat him to death with a chair.
Poem number 74
The sky is awful blue today
The sun is awful bright
The clouds are awful fluffy
And this poem’s awful shite
The lines are awful short today
The rhythm’s awful poor
The scanning’s awful dodgy
It’s just awful, nothing more
Awful awful awful awful
Awful awful bad
Just well and truly awful
Now it’s done I’m awful glad.
Poem number 82
Eh Oh Tinky Winky
My sister pulled a Tellytubby
On a drunken night
Then suddenly got very chubby –
Something wasn’t right
So we took her to a private doc
Who only charged a tenner,
The ultrasound was quite a shock:
Quadruplets with antennae!
My sister fainted clean away
Her future ruined, lost!
Four Telly-babies on the way
At heaven knows what cost.
And for what? A slightly kinky
Half an hour of drunken sex
With a pissed up Tinky Winky
On the rebound from his ex.
So let that be a warning
To you ladies of the gin
Lest you wake one headache morning
With quadruplets hid within –
Don’t be tempted by the weenies
Of those Tellytubby boys,
Just stick to shagging Tweenies
Or, perhaps, just stick to toys.
Poem number 91
Badger Badger Badger Badger
There once was a lady from Dublin
Who found all the badgers quite troublin’
They’d all dip their bum
In her tumbler of rum
And then fart, so her cocktail was bubblin’.