Sunday, July 14, 2024

Carnivorous predators and the food chain: enough to drive us into vegetarianism! (reprise)



It's a dog-eat-dog world, some say, pointing at the primeval principle of kill-or-be-killed underlying all political and economic conflict. The smell of blood is all it takes to trigger a feeding frenzy among sharks. We see it around us, every single day, and so we become desensitized to the blood and gore of the abattoir (a word we borrowed from the French, because it sounds a lot more genteel than "slaughterhouse").

Few of us have had to hunt and kill and skin and gut and cook the meat we consume. We buy it from the supermarket, neatly wrapped in cellophane and kept fresh in the freezer. No protruding heads or feet to remind us what the animal looked like when it was alive. Often the meat comes in tidy, bloodless, machine-sliced fillets, ready to stick in the oven or frying pan.


That's the only way we can deal with the horror of being part of the food chain. When children become aware of what being a carnivore actually entails, many become horrified and vow to get off the bloody wheel by turning to vegetarianism.

Eating fruit and greens doesn't seem so hideous, perhaps because plants don't scream or bleed when chopped up. And, even if they do, their blood is green or colorless, and their screams are beyond our hearing range. Fruits and nuts, of course, are aesthetically the least offensive, since they grow off trees - and no matter how many fruits or nuts we consume, at least we're not harming the trees themselves.

I wish I could live on fruits and nuts - but that would require a monumental, almost fanatical, effort. And it's no fun being a fanatic about anything. Nevertheless, after an ayahuasca experience I had in July 2011, I'm beginning to feel more tolerant towards vegetarians.


Hishamuddin Hashim,
Teoh Beng Hock's  tormentor
It's not every day that I'm so vividly aware of being part of the food chain. In theory, it seems only natural that one species devours and consumes another. Animals whose flesh we find delicious usually feed off plants and grains. And because we humans consider ourselves "the crown of creation" with our access to technology, we are no longer prey to other species of carnivores - apart from our own.

Even so, we can still be killed by the tiniest lifeforms. A disease-carrying mosquito or flea, even a bunch of hostile bacteria - or something totally invisible, like a mutant strain of virus - can take us down, no problem.

Ku Nan the Barbarian
Those who have seen Apocalypse Now - Francis Ford Coppola's 1979 film adaptation of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness - will recall the spine-chilling last words of Colonel Walter E. Kurtz: "The horror... the horror!"

That was exactly how I felt when I was granted a vision of what Malaysian politics looks like from the astral perspective. We live in a multi-tiered social hierarchy defined by genetic heredity (traditional aristocracy) and financial inheritance (the nouveau riche). Those not born into one of the nine royal bloodlines have to buy their perks and privileges with hard cash.

Everybody wants to scrabble up the status ladder - and those who have to start from scratch place their hopes on their progeny. So they invest every cent they can scrape together in "higher education" for their offspring - which they believe will grant them access to the upper tiers of society through membership in various professional guilds.

Strong egos dominate, exploit and oppress the weaker ones - that's the way the world works. That's how it has always worked and that's how it will forever be.


Mahathir Mohamad,
Tyrannosaurus rex
The battlecry of the French Revolution - Liberté, égalité, fraternité - sounds noble and stirring, but it can never happen. Liberty, equality and fraternity for all means no more slave labor. We would be forced to clean up after ourselves, do our own dishes, nobody to carry bricks on their broken backs to build our dream castles!

Can you imagine: who would risk their lives balancing on precarious scaffoldings, day in and day out, to construct a 100-story skyscraper, for a measly RM100 a day? Would you do it? Would you want your children to do it? Let those foreign workers from impoverished countries do the dirty and dangerous work!

Najib Razak, cold-blooded and vicious
But why are some countries "impoverished"? Do they not have their own natural resources? A cursory probe into the history of these "impoverished" lands will reveal the same age-old pattern: the extreme gulf between the haves and the have-nots is an artificial one, created by a feudal social structure wherein the privileged few live like gods, while those at the bottom have to be content with the most basic of necessities.


Apandi Ali,
High Priest of Iniquity
In between you will find the lower, middle and upper classes constantly pushing their way upwards, towards the top of the power pyramid, presided over by a complacent and corrupt priesthood whose function is to sanctify the status quo and assure everyone it's all part of God's plan.

Is there a way out of this endless loop of energy predation, this neverending nightmare of master-slave, victor-victim relationships?

Hishammuddin Hussein,
fang-and-claw politics
Yes, of course, there is. Twenty-five centuries ago, a young prince named Siddhartha Gautama walked out of his cushioned existence in his father's palace - after he was inadvertently exposed to the horrible sight of disease, decay, death and inescapable debt.

Prince Siddhartha realized he was living in an artificial bubble of comfort, insulated from the raw reality beyond the palace walls. Unable to enjoy his creature comforts, knowing they were merely transient, Siddhartha set off quietly to live like an ascetic. He learned to meditate from a variety of spiritual masters and eventually broke free from the robotism of physical embodiment.


In short, Siddhartha awakened from his cultural trance and was henceforth called Buddha - the Awakened One. The title "Buddha" (like "Christ" or "Christos") is not a personal name - it's a state of consciousness each of us must attain if we wish to gain true liberation from the wheel of life, death and rebirth - from the feeding frenzy of the biological food chain.

It's not enough to believe in or revere what Prince Siddhartha achieved. We have to become Buddha ourselves. And that's just a start on an inner journey back to where we began, as the Source of All Energy and Consciousness. But, once we attain our own enlightenment, we will never again wallow in the abysmal ignorance of automatism. Every word we utter, every thought we bear, and every action we take will be done consciously.


We may continue to devour the flesh of other species, but we shall do so with apologetic humility and gratitude - and, in so doing, we shall consciously bless the animal whose death now feeds our life and whose body now becomes part of our bodies. The soul of the animal, thus being acknowledged and blessed, will depart in peace and continue its adventure, perhaps in different embodiments, and it may even opt to experience being human.

Zahid Hamidi, ready to pounce
For the slayer and the slain are bound in a karmic knot, so that any human who kills and devours an animal is actually granting the soul of the animal entry into the human domain.

Personally, I would rejoice in the ability to live entirely off sunshine, fresh air and love. Occasionally, as a special treat, I would allow myself to be devoured and consumed - and to, in turn, consume and devour - but only as a ritual of sacred union performed with a lover in the celebratory spirit of tantra.



[First posted 26 July 2011, reposted 19 June 2014, 2 May 2017 & 17 July 2019]


Thursday, July 11, 2024

The Next Time You Say "Amen"... Think What You're Doing (No Kidding!) A Timely Repost

AMEN happens to be the evil demiurge that corrupted ALL scriptures on Earth with his total control agenda. Also spelt AMON or AMUN, the name itself means "The Hidden One" - the invisible "almighty god" mere humans are expected to believe in and worship as a matter of faith.

When Marduk (known as Ra in Egypt*) became dissatisfied with rulership of both Upper and Lower Egypt, he moved his operational base to Babylon where he began to plot his own rise to deific supremacy, while in Egypt he continued to be worshiped as AMEN RA (Ra the Unseen), making sure his priesthood was as corrupt and wicked as they come.

Marduk it was who systematically infiltrated all belief systems with his antisexual, antifeminine doctrines which gradually developed into the austere, humorless, warlike dogmas that are today the root cause of diseased patriarchal religions like Judaism, Christianity and Islam.

The Evil Priesthood of AMEN RA is at work in ALL faiths - and their task has ever been to subvert the individual's ability to reconnect with his or her own Inner Authority - causing the masses ultimately to seek false comfort in official dogma and established institutions.

Naturally the AMEN priesthood is most influential in modern times disguised as Academia.


That's right, they have traded their priestly robes for professorial ones... and have effectively gained a monopoly on molding the psyches of the entire population through licensing and "legitimizing" all professions with their power to confer degrees and diplomas on those who meekly submit to their intellectual formatting.

Don't talk to me about AMEN. Raises my blood pressure! If you MUST say something utterly meaningless at the end of every prayer or invocation, why not stick with "So it is!" or "So be it!" If that sounds too pompous to you, just settle for "HYMEN" (at least you're paying tribute to the Blessed Virgin!)

In Malaysia the Cult of Amen successfully disguised itself as the monoethnic, monolithic political party called Umno - sometimes called "Ameno" by its detractors. But beyond Umno, AMEN RA's deadly influence has spread throughout all levels of business and politics - and has co-opted all religious institutions, turning them into agencies of mind control. The unholy intention is to rigidify your thought processes.

How can you tell when a belief system is basically Amenist? 

Primarily, Amenism is anti-Nature and anti-Life - and this fear of organicity manifests as erotophobia, which regards human sexuality as sinful and therefore taboo unless sanctioned by the blessings of an Amen priest (or civil registrar).

AMEN RA regards himself as a "supernatural" being - and therefore has no love or respect for the natural environment. Ultimately, AMEN RA is obsessed with POWER OVER OTHERS - but, ironically, he has no power over his own irrational mood swings. When overcome by rage, AMEN RA literally goes berserk, runs amok, and transforms into the God of War, Moloch, who feeds on blood sacrifice. The Temple of Moloch on Earth is better known as The Pentagon.

When at peace, AMEN RA takes the form of Mammon, the God of Money, and it is this deity that rules the Barisan Nasional - and all those who mistake property for prosperity, money for true wealth, and brute force for power.
___
* Or Murdoch in Mediaspeak? :-)

For more background on and insight into the psychic virus called AMEN, read Akhunaton the Extraterrestrial King by Daniel Blair Stewart (Frog Books, 1995).

[First posted 3 September 2008, reposted 10 October 2014 & 3 July 2016]




Wednesday, July 10, 2024

Thwarting the Druglords & their Biochemical Wet Dreams (repost)


On 30 June 2021 I had a vivid dream involving altering bits of code (that looked like Bitcoin keys) to neutralize the deleterious effects of the toxic jabs millions (if not billions) have unsuspectingly accepted. 



It began with the AstraZeneca, followed by all the other variants. I felt great exultation when I discovered how to reconfigure the codes. 

This subsequently led to the giant pharmaceutical companies being exposed as entirely evil and the factories forced to shut down, their owners arrested and incarcerated or executed.

And thus began a whole new era in our approach to healing. No more invasive and injurious surgery, no more toxic chemicals churned out merely for profit. We began to use color and sound and vibrations to repair and restore damaged cells - with med beds, "bio-scalar photonic fusion" quantum devices, healing modalities we could only dream about when the pharmaceutical giants misruled the medical universe. 


[First posted 1 July 2021]


Thursday, July 4, 2024

WE DON’T NEED NO THOUGHT CONTROL (repost)



More than a few have expressed surprise when, in the course of casual conversation, they learn that I “dropped out of school” after sitting my A-Levels examinations as a private candidate at age 18. The A-Levels then were also known as HSC (Higher School Certificate) and were a necessary stepping stone to tertiary education.

“So you never went to university?” they ask incredulously. “I assumed you had a Masters!” To which my half-facetious response would be: “What? Not even a double PhD? Actually, I did spend some time at Universiti Malaya... but only to make out with my girlfriend who was staying on campus."

Among the many outstanding humans who have inspired me one way or another throughout my life, not one has impressed me because of their academic qualifications.

I regarded Bob Dylan as a Dionysian poet, Jewish prophet, and troubadour long before he was awarded an honorary doctorate by Harvard (and later a Nobel Prize) in Literature. Dylan’s urbane sagacity has stood me in good stead over the decades, and two things he said have been indelibly imprinted in my soul: (1) “To live outside the law you have to be honest” and (2) “The best thing you can do for anyone is to inspire them.”

Frank Zappa taught himself music theory as a teenager by religiously reading text books on music notation, composition and arrangement in public libraries. Long after his untimely death of prostate cancer in December 1993, reputable orchestras and ensembles are performing his symphonic works to universal acclaim.

I regard Frank as the ultimate autodidact. He was also a brilliant electronics and audio engineer, sociopolitical commentator, and a self-taught authority on constitutional and copyright law who heroically upheld the First Amendment by presenting a strong case at Senate hearings for not censoring artistic output.

As an exchange student in New Jersey in the late 1960s, the only rock concert I attended was when Zappa & The Mothers of Invention played at the Fillmore East in New York City. I had a brief conversation with Frank afterwards and he gave me a chocolate teardrop which I ate on the journey home. I became the only Malaysian member of Zappa’s fan club, United Mutations, and often dreamt about him, which prompted me to write several letters to him. Years later, in 1977, Zappa actually responded. It was a bit like hearing back from Santa Claus.

John Lennon, another early mentor, had two collections of his wacky poems and Thurberesque doodles (In His Own Write and A Spaniard in the Works) published because of his celebrity status as a founding Beatle. His quirky sketches have also been exhibited in posh galleries and oohed and ahed over by the glitterati.

I owe Mr Lennon a serious debt of gratitude for his profound artistic impact and influence on my teenage consciousness. Looking back, I was a full-fledged Marxist (à la Groucho) and Lennonist (à la John) for the greater part of my adult life.

A fourth mentor appeared in my early adulthood in the form of R. Buckminster Fuller, popularizer of concepts like “synergy” and “holistic” - and who has been aptly described as “a genial genius.” Fuller was another university drop-out, whose claim to academic fame was getting expelled twice from Harvard. He regarded himself as a comprehensivist (as opposed to specialist) and that was precisely what I found myself aspiring to become.

Apart from his most famous invention, the geodesic dome, Bucky had a carbon molecule posthumously named after him. Indeed, the Buckminsterfullerene or C-60 has since become an increasingly popular anti-aging agent, owing to its remarkable detoxifying properties.

The most valuable takeaways I was gifted with from my close encounters with R. Buckminster Fuller were (1) The concept of applying minimum effort for maximum gain through leveraging (which, when you think about it, is what kung fu is all about) and (2) What Bucky said to me over dinner at the Equatorial Hotel in 1976 on one of his many visits to Kuala Lumpur:

“Just do what you feel you must do. Do it the best you can and trust that you’ll be looked after. Believe me, it’s true. I’m an old man, and I’m not in the habit of giving irresponsible advice.”

I quit my job in an ad agency a year after that and have remained gainfully unemployed since.

Bucky with a tensegrity sphere

When the results of the A-Levels were released I felt chagrined to have been awarded a pathetic C+ for Modern History, while getting straight A’s for all my other subjects. True, I was cutting it very close by opting for the minimum number of subjects (General Paper, English, Art, and Modern History) and I strongly felt I deserved an A for my Modern History paper.

The exam question, if I recall correctly, was what factors have had the greatest impact on world affairs since 1945. I remember feeling exceptionally inspired, and the words flowed smoothly from my pen as I postulated that, in the post-war years, the fate of nations fell into the hidden hands of covert agencies like the OSS (which subsequently became the CIA), MI6, Mossad, KGB, DARPA, and so on.

My essay concluded with the thesis that these covert agencies had transmogrified into a Frankenstein’s Monster – beyond the control and oversight of elected governments.

In effect their hubristic activities were clandestine, unreported, and unknowable to the public at large. My conclusion was that, unless these covert agencies somehow got their wings clipped by an authority greater than the merely governmental – unless they were effectively declawed and defanged, if not entirely dismantled, the destiny of the world, our collective future, was in grave danger of getting hijacked by criminal elements.

(Back in 1968 I hadn’t begun to research the Occult and knew nothing about weird shit like adrenochrome addiction and Babylonian blood sacrifice cults.)

"Critic of Chaos" by Ross Williams
I finished the essay with at least five minutes to spare, so I could re-read what I had written, and I felt satisfied that I had answered the question to the best of my ability. Now, whoever marked my paper may have felt a tinge of annoyance at my 18-year-old self-confidence and precocity but, even so, I surely deserved at least a B+ for my effort, not a paltry C+… because that would have awarded me a Higher School Certificate, enabling me to proceed with my tertiary education, if I so chose.

The only option I was left with was to re-enrol in school as a Lower Six student and resit the A-Levels in two years. No way, José! I decided it was the Cambridge Examinations Syndicate that had failed, not me. From that moment on, I turned my back on Academia and what I perceived, in later years, as a very cunningly crafted miseducation system, designed to format impressionable young minds in a manner conducive to their being absorbed into the Job Market.

Well, I had heard of a character named Job from dipping my nose into the Old Testament and I wasn’t about to fall into the same trap of being jerked around by some two-bit God-impersonator. After all, it wasn’t Employment I craved, it was a Sense of Meaning and Purpose. I deeply desired to know why I had taken on human embodiment on this planet. What was my mission this time around? Was it all completely pointless?

In any case, these ontological questions were set aside for a while, when approximately two weeks after getting the results of my A-Levels, I received a phone call from my girlfriend informing me she was a month late with her period.

In retrospect, becoming a father at age 19 was perhaps the best fucking education I could have bargained for.

Antares
7 May 2020

[Originally posted 7 May 2020, reposted 24 January 2023 & 6 April 2023]

Saturday, June 29, 2024

A Comment on Reptile Loathing (Dragon Mating Season repost)

From my personal perspective, what David Icke and John F. Winston report about reptilians running the show is pretty much indisputable. However, those of us who remember our Id/Enki lineage feel it's unfair to lump all reptoid entities in the same Fear and Loathing category. I've seen myself turn into a lizard-like entity several times in my life, and there are moments when I find myself amazed at how cold and unfeeling I can be.

I surmised, then, that we aren't just reptiles or mammals or Grey-hybrids or humans or cetaceans or whatever - most of us are a COMPLEX BLEND OF MULTIPLE GENETIC LINEAGES. That's what makes this planet such an incredible bio-lab and nursery of new life forms - her allowance for MULTI-DIMENSIONAL, INTER-SPECIAL VARIETY.

I've always felt great empathy for the Serpent in the Garden of Eden story. When I learned that another manifestation of Solar Christ Consciousness was actually called the "Plumed Serpent" Quetzalcoatl (or Kukulcan to the Maya), imagine how vindicated I felt. A long time ago an Indian astrologer told me I was protected by Nagas and would be safe wherever there were snakes.

Now this interchangeability of Dragon and Snake symbolism is of deep interest. The Orang Asli tell me the Snake is the 3D projection of the 4D Dragon (not in these words, of course, but they said, "The dragon is not of this world of flesh and blood." They believed that Snake Guardians that had served their time at sacred interdimensional portals eventually graduate to full Dragonhood.)

Naturally, whenever I hear talk of "slaying the Dragon (of Carnal Desire)" and references to the Evil Legions of the Draco Constellation, I'm a bit miffed. The worse Snake/Dragon Fearers/Haters are Christians - those who are closely descended from Enlil's bloodline. Remember Enlil's family emblem is the Eagle - and in Mexico, you find an Eagle clutching a Serpent in its claws on the national flag, symbolizing the Spanish Catholic colonization of the native Aztec-Maya-Inca cultures.

The bad blood between Enlilites & Enkiites has devolved down the aeons into Serpent-loathing and a general dislike of Reptiles.

During peak experiences when I've felt completely reintegrated and attuned to all life, I've always been a dynamic fusion of Eagle and Serpent. Hence, the Plumed Serpent. I feel that Reptile-loathing leads nowhere but to a bland and sterile world view where any quality diametrically opposed to our own programming is regarded as "Shaitan" (Satan, Nemesis, Enemy) and rejected outright.

In September 1996 I wrote an essay titled Song of the Dragon - a study of the interchangeability of Snake, Dragon, and Rainbow symbols in folk mythology. A "channeled" passage came through which I later edited out, because I felt the magazine's readership wouldn't be able to relate to the material. Luckily, I saved that paragraph in my archives. Now is as good a time as any to retrieve it as a contribution to this very stimulating discussion:




The Dragon is part of Earth's evolutionary program. For Intellect to function under harsh climatic conditions, one requirement is protective armoring. We were stranded in the constellation Draco after the First War in Heaven, when one third of the Archangelic Host decided to volunteer for a dangerous and unprecedented experiment in the Use of Free Will.

Slowly we mutated (or stepped down our sub-atomic frequencies) into dense physical forms based on the most rudimentary principles: Input/Output - with a hole at either end of a semi flexible tube, which results in your basic worm-snake-fish-bird-mammal metamorphic sequence.

In the early stages we were mere strands of living protein, bacilli. Once we graduated to proper Wormhood, we were well on our way to full-fledged Serpenthood and, eventually, we attained archetypal Dragonhood. We grew into a very large family called the Reptiles and our survival program was eat-or-be-eaten. Over great geological ages, we acquired strategy and sophistication.


We began projecting our individualized Wills into other parts of the Galaxy and became a source of disharmony.

During the Second War in Heaven (when Hell literally broke loose!), the Elohim made an attempt to eradicate us from the Matter Universe. They did not entirely succeed, for we became a survival program hardwired into every life form on Earth. Your scientific researchers call this the hypothalamus or Reptilian brain - and even the most "denatured" Sirian-Nibiruan-Simian genetic lineage has Dragon Blood at its deepest molecular levels.

There is no way you can eliminate the Serpent without destroying your own survival instinct. The limbic or mammal brain developed when the experience of death led to emotional trauma and fear of loss. As metaphorical thinking evolved, the neocortex grew and self-awareness appeared. The "fourth brain" can be described as "bionic" or cybernetic, incorporating artificial intelligence and nanotechnology. Your "World Wide Web" is an early manifestation of this phenomenon.

In terms of the Earth's mineral memory banks and her magnetic fields, we of the Dragon lineage have a very vital role to play. We have been here since the earliest phases of starseeding, and our evolutionary destiny is intimately linked with that of Gaia.

On the 4th dimensional level our hologram forms are perceived by those with active pineal glands as various phenomena, e.g., rainbow serpents, sundogs, aurora effects, UFO activity, and so on. We are pure energy beings, beyond archaic notions of Good and Evil, converting electricity into magnetism and vice versa.


[This was my second post when I began blogging in December 2006. Reposted 23 January 2012 at the start of the Dragon Year & on 30 February 2019]

Thursday, June 27, 2024

All The Best Limericks Are Lewd (revisited)

Abraham was a wily old Jew
Who kept company with the Chosen Few
By forswearing sin
And his own foreskin
He proceeded the whole world to screw



It was a limerick that got me my first job as a junior copywriter. I had just turned 20 and was living with my parents in the house where I was born. I knew it was time to leave the family nest and learn to stand on my own feet - so when a friend mentioned that an ad agency in KL was looking for new blood, I immediately wrote to them. A few days later I received a test in the mail and was asked to compose a limerick; then write a news report about it, followed by an editorial. This was the limerick I came up with (of course I had to keep it clean):

A grand gourmand named Gus
Decided to devour a bus
But as he began to chew
He said, "Oh no, this won't do,
The passengers are making a fuss!"



Needless to say I got the job and soon found myself turning into a professional wordsmith, churning out readable text by the column inch. It didn't take long for me to realize I wasn't cut out to be a hack. Within 18 months I quit, after winning $5,000 in a slogan writing competition for Hall's cough drops, and began a checkered career as a freelancer and creative consultant. I continued to compose the occasional limerick - but somehow they were never quite lewd enough...



A fair mädchen was having her lüncheon
In a very chic cafe in München
Well, I got bold and told her
I wanted to rock'n'roll her
"Ja ja," she said and we got engaged pretty sünchen

As clean limericks go, this one ranks as an all-time winner (unfortunately I didn't write it and I don't know who did): 

A wonderful bird is the pelican;
His beak can hold more than his belican.
He can hold in his beak
Enough food for a week,
Though I’m damned if I know how the helican!

But enough of clean limericks! Bring on the best and lewdest ones I have collected over the years. I must mention here that some of the dirtiest limericks ever written came from Isaac Asimov, acclaimed writer of sciencefiction novels. Here are a couple I like:

Said an ovum one night to a sperm,
"You're a very attractive young germ.
Come join me, my sweet,
Let our nuclei meet
And in nine months we'll both come to term."

------------------------------


"We refuse," said two men from Australia,
"Bestiality this saturnalia.
For now, we bethink us,
The ornithorhynchus
Is our down-under type of Mammalia."

And I have a gut feeling we owe this classic to Asimov:

The astronomer's crime was heinous:
"We mustn't let convention restrain us;
Though I've made a career
Out of Venus, my dear,
I'm tempted to switch to Uranus."


Let's open the floodgates of debauchery and prurience, shall we? But first, a limerick defining what limericks are really about...

The Limerick's furtive and mean, 
To be kept under close quarantine, 
Or she'll sneak to the slums, 
Where she promptly becomes 
Disorderly, drunk and obscene!

It's almost impossible to trace limericks back to their source. The memorable ones tend to get circulated and recirculated over time till they end up attributed to Anonymous (presumably an obscure Greek lyricist). Here's the rest of my collection to date:

There once was a girl from Ealing,
Who said she had no sexual feeling.
Until a cynic named Boris,
Touched her clitoris,
And they’re still scraping her off the ceiling.

-----------------------------------------


There was a young fellow from Kent,
Whose prick was so long that it bent,
To save himself trouble,
He put it in double,
And instead of coming he went.

---------------------------------------



A lesbian girl from Khartoum
Took a gay young man up to her room. 
At the start of the night 
She said "Let's get this right. 
Who does what? And with which? And to whom?"


-----------------------------------------


There was an old bishop from Buckingham 
Who spoke of young girls and of fucking 'em 
But a bishop from Wales 
Took the wind from his sails 
When he spoke of young boys and of sucking 'em







From the crypt of the Church of St. Giles 
Came a scream that carried for miles 
Said the Vicar, "Good Gracious, 
Has Brother Ignatius 
Forgotten the Bishop has piles?"

-----------------------------------------


There once was a man from Peru 
Who fell asleep in his canoe 
As he dreamt of Venus 
he played with his penis 
And woke up with a handful of goo.

---------------------------------------------


There was a young woman from Yale 
Who offered her body for sale 
For the sake of the blind 
She had her behind 
Tattooed with her prices in Braille

--------------------------------------------



There was a young fellow from Leeds,
Who swallowed a package of seeds.
Great tufts of grass,
Sprouted out of his ass,
And his balls were all covered with weeds.


-------------------------------------------


There was a young man from Lynn,
Whose prick was the size of a pin.
Said his girl with a laugh,
As she fondled his staff,
“This won’t be much of a sin.”


---------------------------------------------


There was a young lady from Maine,
Who enjoyed copulating on a train.
Not once, I maintain,
But again and again,
And again and again and again.


------------------------------------------


There was a young actress from Crewe, 
Who remarked as the vicar withdrew, 
The Bishop was quicker 
and thicker and slicker, 
And two inches longer than you.

-------------------------------------------------

There was a young plumber from Lee 
who was plumbing his girl with great glee, 
she said,  "Stop your plumbing, 
I think someone's coming..." 
Said the plumber, still plumbing, "It's me!"

-------------------------------------------------

A kinky young girl from Coleshill, 
Tried a dynamite stick for a thrill, 
They found her vagina 
in North Carolina, 
and bits of her tits in Brazil.

-------------------------------------------------

There was a young man from Pitlocherie, 
making love to his girl in the rockery, 
she said, "Look you've cum 
all over my bum, 
This isn't a shag, it's a mockery."

-------------------------------------------------

There was a young lassie from Morton, 
who had one long tit and one short'un, 
on top of all that 
a great hairy twat, 
and a fart like a six fifty Norton.

----------------------------------------

There was a young man from Harrow 
who had one as big as a marrow. 
He said to his tart, 
"Try this for a start. 
My balls are outside on a barrow."

------------------------------------

There was a young girl from Hitchin, 
who was scratching her crotch in the kitchen. 
Her mother said "Rose, 
It's crabs, I suppose." 
She said "Bollocks, get on with your stitchin'."

-----------------------------------------

There was a young girl from Devizes, 
who had tits of different sizes. 
One was quite small, 
almost nothing at all, 
But the other was big and won prizes.

--------------------------------------

There once was a young man from Brighton,
Who said to a young lass, “You’re a tight’un!”
She said, “Listen, Hon,
You’re in the wrong one.
There’s plenty of room in the right one.”

------------------------------------

A lady while dining at Crewe,
Found an elephant’s dong in her stew,
Said the waiter, “Don’t shout,
Or wave it about,
Or the others will all want one too!”

--------------------------------------

There was a young woman of Croft,
Who played with herself in a loft,
Having reasoned that candles,
Could never cause scandals,
Besides which they did not go soft.

----------------------------------------

There was a young woman named Sally, 
who loved an occasional dally, 
she sat on the lap
of a well endowed chap, 
Crying, "Gee, Dick, you're right up my alley!"

----------------------------------

There was a young gaucho named Bruno 
Who said "If there is one thing I do know, 
A woman is fine, 
a donkey divine, 
But the llama is numero uno."

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There once was a man from Nantucket
Whose schlong was so long he could sucket
He said with a grin
Wiping spunk off his chin
"If my ear were a cunt I could fucket!"



Nantucket seems to have inspired more than its fair share of limericks, not all of them lewd - but they do merit a passing mention, if only for their literary value:

There once was a man from Nantucket
Who kept all his cash in a bucket.
But his daughter, named Nan,
Ran away with a man
And as for the bucket, Nantucket.

This soon spawned a sequel...

But he followed the pair to Pawtucket,
The man and the girl with the bucket;
And he said to the man,
He was welcome to Nan,
But as for the bucket, Pawtucket.

What better way to end this post than with a mathematical limerick composed by Leigh Mercer (1893-1977) who came up with this poetic equation:

Translated into plain English it reads:

A dozen, a gross, and a score
Plus three times the square root of four
Divided by seven
Plus five times eleven
Is nine squared and not a bit more.


[First posted 26 April 2017, reposted 18 September 2018, 31 March 2019, 25 August 2019,
16 September 2021 & 18 February 2023]