There once was a lady named Toft
Whom so many laddies had boffed
Her elastical cunny
Could swallow a bunny
Like a haybale fits into a loft
In the hopes of securing a pension,
in parts not polite here to mention,
She'd insert objects foreign -
like a cervical warren -
Then expel them with muscular tension.
Though many men wanted to jump her,
Inevitably they would dump her
It's a hell of a blow
When you're diving below
To go down and be greeted by Thumper
It is said that she never showed fear
As she made all those rabbits appear
But picture her face
When a sizeable brace
Of pheasants emerged from her rear
When the libertine's privates fell ill,
To her doctor she confessed a strange thrill:
"It's long been my habit,
To insert a rabbit--
You should see what I do with my gerbil."
Mary's children's lamenting began,
When they learned they were only half-man.
"This hutch is uncool,
We get teased in school,
We don't want to be part lagomorphan."
How strange the whim came upon her
To thus risk besmirching her honor
But Ms. Toft had determined
To give birth to vermin
And was ultimately proven a conner.
There was a sly witch (or deceiver?),
Whose rabbits she said would not leave her:
"They love taxidermy,"
She said, a bit squirmy,
"And can't live without my stuffed beaver."
There once was a girl in a coven,
Ejected for excessive lovin'—
"We don't mind the sex"
said the crones, with a hex,
"But it seems you've a bun in the oven."
some nerds stared at their computers
exhausted with first-person shooters
they started out tired
but then grew inspired
to write poems about bunnies and cooters
Five dollars is not too much money
To post remarks both profound and funny
I've waited all day
For the chance to say,
"Witch, you better give me my bunny!" posted by cortex at 7:09 PM on
July 6, 2007
It's a very sloppy production—I'm not sure what's going on with the hints-of-Walken quasi-New York standup thing, but it felt right, and the bass and guitar are all over the damn place, and I flubbed a few lines and destroyed some of the meter—but I couldn't really resist throwing it together.
I grabbed eleven limericks that I liked and felt I could spit out. There's a lot more good stuff in there, but at three minutes and change I think it's already pushing it: eight minutes would get me killed. Great big goddam kudos to everybody, especially mr_crash_davis for kicking it off in such style. posted by cortex at 7:14 PM on
July 6, 2007
Excellent delivery, laughed my ass off, and the poems... my god. I must have missed this thread. posted by buriednexttoyou at 8:42 PM on
July 6, 2007
The delivery is great, I love the off-the-cuff feel. Funny ending too. posted by edlundart at 9:30 PM on
July 6, 2007
I'm not from Salem; but, back in the day, 2 of my direct Kimball ancestors (husband & wife, on my mom's side) signed a petition attesting to their knowledge of the lifelong good character of one accused Salem witch, Rebecca Nurse, which her husband passed among the local folks & which was entered into the court's record. Unfortunately, it didn't save her life. posted by taosbat at 9:51 PM on
July 6, 2007
Though my representation is scanty,
I'm not one to complain or get ranty.
Your Walken On Toft
Makes my fangirl heart soft,
So I'll chuck you a virtual panty. posted by Ambrosia Voyeur at 11:26 PM on
July 6, 2007 [4 favorites]
Am I the only one hearing it as Walken being channeled by Zach Braff?
Bloody marvelous, all of this. The sheer wit and creative humor of these limericks and this performance make me so envious I want to go stuff a rabbit up my... well, I guess I'd have to use my heinie. I'll probably pass. posted by John Smallberries at 9:56 AM on
July 7, 2007
There once was a lady named Toft
Whom so many laddies had boffed
Her elastical cunny
Could swallow a bunny
Like a haybale fits into a loft
In the hopes of securing a pension,
in parts not polite here to mention,
She'd insert objects foreign -
like a cervical warren -
Then expel them with muscular tension.
Though many men wanted to jump her,
Inevitably they would dump her
It's a hell of a blow
When you're diving below
To go down and be greeted by Thumper
It is said that she never showed fear
As she made all those rabbits appear
But picture her face
When a sizeable brace
Of pheasants emerged from her rear
When the libertine's privates fell ill,
To her doctor she confessed a strange thrill:
"It's long been my habit,
To insert a rabbit--
You should see what I do with my gerbil."
Mary's children's lamenting began,
When they learned they were only half-man.
"This hutch is uncool,
We get teased in school,
We don't want to be part lagomorphan."
How strange the whim came upon her
To thus risk besmirching her honor
But Ms. Toft had determined
To give birth to vermin
And was ultimately proven a conner.
There was a sly witch (or deceiver?),
Whose rabbits she said would not leave her:
"They love taxidermy,"
She said, a bit squirmy,
"And can't live without my stuffed beaver."
There once was a girl in a coven,
Ejected for excessive lovin'—
"We don't mind the sex"
said the crones, with a hex,
"But it seems you've a bun in the oven."
some nerds stared at their computers
exhausted with first-person shooters
they started out tired
but then grew inspired
to write poems about bunnies and cooters
Five dollars is not too much money
To post remarks both profound and funny
I've waited all day
For the chance to say,
"Witch, you better give me my bunny!"
posted by cortex at 7:09 PM on July 6, 2007