Slim Acres wrote a number of limericks over many years, some of them for his "Slim Acres Says" newspaper feature. Here's a selection.
I once knew a lady named Sherri,
Whose legs were exceedingly hairi;
She never wore hose,
Because, I suppose,
For warmth they weren't necessari!
Contrary was my Uncle Lou,
And disagreeable, too;
If somebody said,
"Lou, your face is red,"
He'd strain till he made it turn blue!
A shrewd bartender named Phil
Had plenty of cash in his till;
His margin was wide,
Because, on the side,
He operated a still!
While I'm not concerned about stars,
Or life on planets like Mars,
I'll admit I do get
A little upset
About what's going on here on ours!
A fellow up near Bowling Green,
Was unbelievably lean;
Although he was tall,
He had no shape at all,
And sideways he couldn't be seen!
Wealthy, I certainly am not,
For really, I don't have a lot;
I may seem to lean
Toward frugal or mean,
But I'd like to keep what I've got!
I remember how I used to be,
So happy-go-lucky and free;
But all things, my friend,
Must come to an end—
I got married at age twenty-three.
A very nice lady named Rose
Has a blemish I don't think she knows.
Really, it's not
That it matters a lot,
But her underwear shows through her hose.
At night, when she puts up her hair,
With bushels of shiny hardware,
And smears up with creams,
The girl of your dreams
Looks more like an awful nightmare!
To live a hundred-year span
Is the goal of most every man;
But to heck with tradition,
I take the position
I'm going to beat that if I can!
A woman who lives at Nob Hill,
Always drives a Caddy DeVille;
Too much of a lady
To do anything shady,
But for enough money, she will!
Some eager fellows I know
Have lots of get up and go;
Now, I get up, too,
The same as they do,
But my go is a little bit slow!
Some people will never advance,
Because they won't take a chance;
But sometimes they find
Success from behind,
Through a good swift kick in the pants!
She promised to love and obey,
When they stood at the altar that day;
But he should have known
That women are prone
To reverse whatever they say!
When a visit to some folks we pay,
They practically drive us away;
So tell me, why is it,
When they come to visit,
They stay, and they stay, and they stay!
Ditties I write by the score,
A limerick nut to the core;
For readers like you,
I'll probably keep writing more.
The first airplanes in the sky
Evoked a passionate cry;
They're blasphemous things!
Man would have wings,
If the Lord had meant him to fly!
Emperor Napoleon of France
Wore suspenders to hold up his pants.
With safety in view,
He wore a belt, too,
He was not one for taking a chance!
Heartburn products, I'll bet,
There are fifty brands you can get;
But it still puzzles me
Why there should be
So darn many stomachs upset!
She thought she was landing a
But he was too worldly wise;
He didn't easily scare,
But he was aware
She had dollar signs in her eyes.
I don't watch my diet with quite
As much concern as I might;
In my old-fashioned way,
Three times a day,
I consume all the vittles in sight!
I once knew a fellow named Jim,
Whose form was exceedingly slim;
He happened to stroll
Near a crawdad hole,
And that was the finish of him!
And then, this fellow from Kent,
Who was such an intrepid gent;
He was messing, one night,
With some dynamite,
And nobody knows where he went!
A man in a hurry, named Bill,
Caught up with a truck on a hill;
He stepped on the gas,
And attempted to pass,
But he didn't and he never will!
There's nothing proud about me,
I'm as humble as I could be;
But when you say I
Am a wonderful guy,
Being honest, I have to agree!
I know a fellow named Kevin,
Whose shoe is number eleven;
It isn't too tight,
But he doesn't walk right,
For his foot is only a seven!
I know a farmer named Pickens,
Who has about 200 chickens;
But to his dismay,
None of them lay,
Though all of them crow like the dickens!
I know a guy from St. Joe,
Who knows all there is to know;
But the knowledge he's got
Isn't worth a whole lot,
For much that he knows isn't so!
Of faults, we all have a few,
The best of the good people do;
Those who think not,
Are the worst of the lot,
So, what is the matter with you?
There's no use in taking a chance,
Except in a rare circumstance;
This conservative view,
I sit down when I put on my pants!
I know a fellow named Paul,
Who is eight feet, six inches tall;
He handles the stress
Of the rat race, I guess,
By simply overlooking it all!
My ugly brother-in-law
Is the spittin' image of his Pa;
It's a family curse,
And it might have been worse—
He could have resembled his Ma!
I know a fellow named Joe,
Who is always stubbing his toe;
To fall on his face
Is quite commonplace,
Not uncommon, as toe stubbers go.
I knew a fellow named Mort,
A dude of the hot-rodding sort;
But his speed was in vain,
When he raced with a train,
And came up a little bit short!
I don't complain much, or whine,
About any ailments of mine;
But as you can tell,
I don't look very well,
Even when feeling just fine!
My sweetie bought me a tie,
She chose it, Heaven knows why;
The most horrid green
I ever have seen,
But I'll wear the dumb thing till I die!
I know a fellow named Stu,
Who has so little to do,
He's oftentimes done,
Before he's begun,
And he never knows when he's through!
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