Oh, Jesus is it cold outside. Here in Maryland it stuck around 15 degrees Fahrenheit most of the day. It’s even freezing in Florida, where the governor declared a state of emergency because of the threat the low temperatures poses to crops.
There’s only one thing to be done in weather like this. Well . . . two things, actually, but the wife and I both felt like shit today, so that was out. Most of the people reading this are alienated loners who will never know a lover’s tender touch, anyway.
No, I’m talking about writing cold temperature-themed limericks. Everybody loves limericks! Or I do, anyway. And it’s my goddamn blog.
The wife of a fellow named Snitzky Crawled into bed feeling quite frisky He was out like a light, So she kept warm that night With some lube and a bottle of whiskey.
As temperatures outside were falling Old Hendrickson felt nature calling But in the outhouse he froze From his nose to his toes A condition he found rather galling.
An old Englishman name of Pember Had a useless old rope for a member But his piss-filled old cock Became hard as a rock When he peed off his porch in December.
And one more! Whaddya say?
A man lived with his wife and himself On the edge of an Arctic ice shelf He said, “Throw on your cloak! “Come outside for a smoke!” And she answered him, “Go fuck yourself.”