12/1/97:

A sensitive fellow named Harry

Thought sex too revolting to marry.

So he went out in curls

And frowned on the girls,

And he got to be known as a fairy.

1941

12/2/97:

There was a young girl of Rangoon

Who was blocked by the Man in the Moon.

"Well, it has been great fun,"

She remarked when he'd done,

"But I'm sorry you came quite so soon."

1928

12/3/97:

There was an Archbishop of Rhiems

Who played with himself in his dreams.

On his night-shirt in front

He painted a cunt,

Which made his spend gush forth in streams.

1879

12/4/97:

A nudist from over the Pass,

Thinks the Fourth of July is a gas,

His cock (and balls too)

He paints red, white, and blue,

And he sticks a flag pole up his ass.

Contributed by
Bill Wiley

12/5/97:

There was a young lady from Munich

Who had an affair with a eunuch.

At the height of her passion

He dealt her a ration

From a squirt gun concealed 'neath his tunic.

Contributed by
William Ruddy

12/6/97:

The wandering mujahedin

To many strange places has been.

He likes a young lass

Or a boy's tender ass

And with one or two sheep he's been seen!

Contributed by
Doug McIntosh

12/7/97:

"It's long and it's firm and it's ripe

I confess that it's just how I like!"

Thus the young fairy said

Bending over the bed,

"Now shove it right up my back pipe!"

Contributed by
Doug McIntosh

12/8/97:

The limerick packs laughs anatomical

Into space that's quite economical.

But the good ones I've seen

So seldom are clean,

And the clean ones so seldom are comical.

Contributed by
Doug McIntosh

12/9/97:

A quiet young fellow named Nate

With both hands diddled his mate.

It was three fingers in 'er

And one flutt'ring agin' her

That opened her juices' floodgate.

Contributed by
Mistress Amelia

12/10/97:

At the Iphigenia of Gluck

Two ushers attempted to fuck.

At the blare of the brass

One contracted his ass,

And they carted him off in a truck.

1947

12/11/97:

At Vassar sex isn't injurious,

Though of love we are never penurious.

Thanks to vulcanized aids

Though we may die old maids,

At least we shall never die curious.

1941

12/12/97:

Love letters no longer they write us,

To their homes they so seldom invite us.

It grieves me to say,

They have learned with dismay,

We can't cure their vulva pruritus.

1927

12/13/97:

A fox-hound retired from the hunt

For he found that his lobes had grown blunt

To the scent of the fox,

But he still would sniff rocks

For the mystical fragrance of cunt.

1942

12/14/97:

There was a young fellow named Edward

Who preferred a live trope to a dead word.

He never would speak

Of taking a leak,

But instead said his urge was to headward.

1950

12/15/97:

A young architect named Yorik

Who could, when feeling euphoric

Display for selection

Three kinds of erection,

Corinthian, Ionic and Doric!

Contributed by
R. Baudy

12/16/97:

There once was a sailor from Brighton

Who said to his girl, "You're a tight one!"

She said, "'Pon my soul,

You're in the wrong hole -

There's plenty of room in the right one."

Contributed by
John Blonsick

12/17/97:

There was an old man of the Cape

Who buggered a Barbary ape.

The ape said, "You fool!

You've got a square tool;

You've buggered my arse out of shape!"

1879

12/18/97:

A cardinal living in Rome

Had a Renaissance bath in his home.

He could gaze at the nudes

As he worked up his moods

In emulsions of semen and foam.

1942

12/19/97:

A young indian boy from Madras

Loved to shag the girls in the grass.

Then out came the sun

To spoil all his fun

By burning the hairs on his ass!

Contributed by
Dirk Cook

12/20/97:

In La France once a clevair young man

Met a girl on the beach down at Cannes.

Said the mademoiselle,

"Eh, m'sieu, vot ze 'ell?

Stay away where eet ees not son-tan!"

1943

12/21/97:

A keeper in Hamburg's great zoo

Tried to have a young girl kangaroo.

But she zipped up her pouch,

And the rascal said, "Ouch!

You've got a half peter in you."

1942

12/22/97:

I once had the wife of a Dean

Seven times while the Dean was out ski'in'.

She remarked with some gaiety,

"Not bad for the laity,

Though the Bishop once managed thirteen."

1947

12/23/97:

There was an old man at the Terminus

Whose bush and whose bum were all verminous.

They said, "You sale Boche!

You really must wash

Before you start planting your sperm in us."

1928

There was a young man of Back Bay

Who thought syphilis just went away,

And felt that a chancre

Was merely a canker

Acquired in lascivious play.

12/25/97:
Part 2 of 7:

Now first he got acne vulgaris,

The kind that is rampant in Paris,

It covered his skin,

From forehead to shin,

And now people ask where his hair is.

12/26/97:
Part 3 of 7:

With symptoms increasing in number,

His aorta's in need of a plumber,

His heart is cavorting,

His wife is aborting,

And now he's acquired a gumma.

12/27/97:
Part 4 of 7:

Consider his terrible plight---

His eyes won't react to the light,

His hands are apraxic,

His gait is ataxic,

He's developing gun-barrel sight.

12/28/97:
Part 5 of 7:

His passions are strong, as before,

But his penis is flaccid, and sore,

His wife now has tabes

And sabre-shinned babies---

She's really worse off than a whore.

12/29/97:
Part 6 of 7:

There are pains in his belly and knees,

His sphincters have gone by degrees,

Parozysmal incontinence,

With all its concomitants,

Brings on quite unpredictable pees.

12/30/97:
Part 7 of 7:

Though treated in every known way,

His spirochetes grow day by day,

He's developed paresis,

Converses with Jesus,

And thinks he's the Queen of the May.

1938

12/31/97:

The late Brigham Young was no neuter---

No faggot, no fairy, no fruiter.

Where ten thousand virgins

Succumbed to his urgin's

There now stands the great State of Utah.

1941