Danny don't like them damned curs,
He'd like to ride em with spurs.
or perhaps shove a bone,
up the arse of chrome dome,
and tell him succinctly: "up yers!".
Silent Sandy 07/09/2003
257
I guess you had reasons, fer lettin the dogs stay,
And maybe good reason, fer not sendin the owners away.
But when guns aint allowed,
Or bombs with a cloud,
How bout sedative laced darts, would that be ok?
Keyhole 07/09/2003
256
Old Mother Hubbard,
Went to the cupboard,
To fetch her poor dog a bone.
But when she bent over,
The dog took over,
And gave her a bone of his own.
Submitted by Lussen 07/03/2003
255
WIDAMAN”S WAYWARD WEENIE
by Gene “Dickhead” Duncker
There arose a commotion in Alpine County in the summer of ‘92.
A female type expressed emotion over what she perchanced to view.
Snowshoe Thom(p)son was set to meet and plaque the old log jail.
On Friday, we made an early retreat to a secluded, wooded vale.
The civilized world is not the place for Clampers to convene.
We’re a different race, who need lots of space and few rules to intervene.
So, Fred Dressler, the old Humbug, allowed us his estate;
a place to be free from the hubbub of our usual workaday fate.
As the brothers arrived in campers, trailers and the like,
“Pass the Gas” observed folks nearby - Mom, Dad and some tykes.
Knowing the initiation would occur the following morning,
Widaman and a delegation went to give the family warning.
They gave them notice of expected drinking, of language loud and obscene
and the probability that we’d be stinking and bathing in the stream.
The little clan thouht it best to move from the valley floor.
Surely, they would get no rest with these redshirts right next door.
Now, that he though the coast was clear, Widaman looked for a tree.
All day long, he’d been guzzling beer. Now, Terry had to pee.
But, the bitch was hiding in the hills, with a telephoto lens,
sure that Terry was getting his thrills while just draining his little friend.
She took the film to the county seat and presented it to the law.
She told the cop Terry beat his meat. She lied about what she saw!
Even after the photo was greatly enlarged, there was little proof to hold him.
“Pass the Gas” wasn’t legally charged. The judge didn’t even scold him.
Indecent exposure would not stand. A jury would never convict.
The photo showed Widaman, and in his hand was a poor excuse for a dick.
See, once you’re a Humbug for a year your beard starts turning to gray.
Your private parts disappear. They seem to wither away.
In ECV, no matter your rank, you’re equal to all the brothers.
But, an XNGH, from the size of his wang, seems less equal than all the others.
Dickhead 06/29/2003
254
THE SECRET OF LIFE
by Gene “Dickhead” Duncker
I hardly think
there was a single shrink
in the mining towns of old .
They had a rough life,
but they dealt with their strife
in a manner brave and bold.
They'd spend months movin dirt,
then put on a red shirt
at the sound of the hewgag's bray.
Some walked , some rode
from the Mother Lode.
Some came from as far as L.A.
They'd pack up their asses.
and from mountain passes
bring their dust to the nearest town.
Without sweethearts or mothers
they'd join with the Brothers,
and drink 'til they all fell down.
With much booze and great laughter
they'd join with the Chapter,
telling lies of fortune and glory.
Of silver and gold,
too much to behold!
Well , it made for a darned good story.
When new members were needed
and the call was not heeded
they'd kidnap a prospect or two.
You see, after all,
if the band is too small
who's gonna buy all the brew?
In that situation
the initiation
was done rather extemporaneous.
Since few could read,
there was little need
for the ritual that today is a strain for us.
Sure as Hell,
the Humbug would tell
of absurdity as our belief.
Then when all
gathered in the Hall
they'd pass the Staff of Relief.
Regardless of race , creed or color
they'd hoop'n they'd holler
and maybe dance with each other.
with no females but hookers,
(and not very good-lookers),
you'd best take a chance on a Brother .
When the meeting was done
and they'd run out of rum,
they'd purchase supplies and new tools.
Free of life's ills,
they'd head back to the hills
with their goods packed on the mules.
So , if your brain has got calluses,
don't try analysis.
Go to a Doin's instead.
Sit by the clampfires
with the rest of the liars
and soak up your beans with the bread.
Gene "Dickhead" Duncker 1991
253
If i could but wax poetic,
on things relating to the stick.
When found up an ass,
with rings of great class,
Lussen could make his damned pick.
Silent sandy 06/26/03
252
The story of the Staff of Relief,
The HOCO is the leitmotiv.
From the tip to the crotch,
If it goes past the third notch,
Your poke will suffer no grief.
Disco Danny 06/26/03
251
A kwestion asked of a clamper,
could put yer day in a damper.
with rings on a Relief of Staff,
shoved up yer ass,
will make a PBC feel like a hamper.
Steve 58 06/26/03
250
This perplexified issue on the Staff of Relief,
Has got some cornfused with puzzled belief.
With kwestions of rings,
Amungst other things,
OL' Charlie quotes Charlie, and says "Good Grief!"
Keyhole 06/26/03
249
Good Gawd lookie lookie, well I'll be damned!
Ol' Cookie got his cookie, just like he planned.
I knew some day,
He'd come to play,
With the rest of the Turds, in the Box of the Sand.
Keyhole 05/20/2003
248
The Chapter's prepare, and they go all out,
To provide for all Brothers, without a doubt.
They're there for us all,
To go and have a ball,
A Great Clamper Doins, is what it's all about.
Keyhole 04/28/2003
247
Tamale, I will get my carcass outta bed,
and head fer Tri Chap and maybe see Dickhead.
I will bring some JD and maybe some beer,
but will hide it ifin Keyhole is near.
JR and his rum, I'm sure will be there,
ifin he's not eaten up by a grizzly ole "Bare".
Wild Bill will be hawkin and drinkin his brew,
in the mornin you'll find him all covered with dew.
Clod will be there, as so will be Clyde,
dreamin of skinnin and tannin Clyde's hyde!
Steve 58 04/10/2003
246
Oh so easy to think with care,
that Yogi the bear was bare back there.
then we find it's hair, not bare,
now we know it's a big hair bear,
and Hound don't really care!
SIlent Sandy 03/03/03
245
There once was a young man from Aberdeen,
Who invented a jerk-off machine.
On the Sixty-Ninth stroke,
The God damn thing broke.
And whipped both his balls to a cream.
KCXNGH 02/19/2003
244
Life in death
'Tis said that a man is not truly grown,
Until his father has passed beyond the veil.
For only then does he stand as the head of the family,
and looked upon for guidance and the grail.
But no matter how grown, no matter how tall,
No matter how proud, or recognition he'll get.
The oh so grown up man is a boy even yet,
when his sainted mother gives her last call.
The world he does travel, strange paths he does roam,
always tethered to lifes's reality.
because of a locality,
that he can always call home.
Whippin boy feels lonliness' pain,
and for a moment or two wonders why.
but his strength he shall regain,
after a heartfel and well deserved cry.
Now the tie is broken,
her loving words no more spoken.
but her memory remains strong,
and her lessons he will pass along.
She'll always be proud of you, Carl.
Silent sandy 02/04/2003
243
Bye , Ma
He went thru his life,
With no use for a knife;
‘Cept cuttin up lemons fer gin.
His work was a tool,
To leave him a pool,
Of money to frolic at whim.
A wife he had found,
Who kept him on ground,
When pressure got too great to bear.
The home that he’d got,
was, often as not,
a place he was happy to share.
He had no religion,
( well, maybe a smidgen)
But on it he seldom had drawn.
Perhaps he must change,
His thoughts rearrange,
For Whippboys’ Mother has gone.
Whippinboy 02/04/2003
242
" For The Future "
In search for answers Man traveled,
From the Earth beyond many a Star.
As the Great Mysteries unraveled,
His Goals were kept focused a'far.
With the Quest came Sadness and Grief,
For the loss of Brave Lives for these Goals.
Of selfless Courage, beyond all Belief,
Their Memory lived on, Bless Their Soul's.
And the Journey continued . . . . . .
Keyhole 02/01/2003
241
The Clampers said,”Vote for thirteen.
Me thinks,”Now that’s pretty keen”.
But the beast would awaken,
the numbers were shaken,
The outcome cannot be forseen.
In the dark of the night (absolute)
Dizz crunched numbers at the INSTITUTE.
Statistics were posted,
Their finder, he boasted,
To our end we must all consecute.
Now some of you may not have heard,
Of the previous verse final word.
If you use your thesaurus,
You’ll all say, In chorus,
"That Whippnboy’s really a nerd."
Whippinboy 01/28/2003
240
It's my understanding,
the length of the turd notwithstanding,
these limericks and jokes,
are limited to folks,
who ride the short bus and go clamping!
Enebro 01/28/2003
239
Keyhole put on his big shoes,
and headed to the stowe for some booze.
He tripped over a whore,
who's tits hung on the floor,
and to his boudoir they did cruise.
Silent Sandy 01/28/2003
238
There was a young fellow (a cheater),
Who promised a girl he would treat 'er.
To something quite fine,
Even grand and divine,
And then all he brought forth was his peter.
But, but, but
Dependent on meals of dried beans,
Gave most men both motive and means.
With flames near their asses,
While warriors made passes,
They torched them to red smithereens.
But, but, but
Two Brothers after drinking some beer,
Took a whiz off the end of the pier.
One Bro said, "Mother!
Water's COLD!" Said the other,
"And its also deep over here!"
KCXNGH 01/28/2003
237
Ah them big ol' clown shoes,
They might just make the cruise.
To the Hawker Fair,
They'll be right there,
On the dummy drinkin the booze.
Keyhole 01/27/2003
236
He sits in his shop when business is slow,
Clownin around like a freakin Bozo.
Still aint out of "O's",
And nobody knows,
If he'll ever shut up! That little so and so!
Keyhowe 01/27/2003
235
McGarrett always ended the show,
With a phrase to his partner Dano.
He'd tell him to "Book'em",
With cuffs he would hook'em,
Five-0 wuz the show doncha know.
But whenever the shift was slow,
All them cops would sit in a row.
At a place down the street,
Where they'd kick up their feet,
And get stuffed with them nuts of dough.
From there all them cops would go,
To a lady they knew as Jane Doe.
She worked in the back,
Of a secret old shack,
Where they'd take their flute for a blow.
But one day on the car radio,
Cops heard they busted this Ho.
But they all hung their head,
When she confessed and said,
She was really "John" from Frisco.
Keyhowe 01/27/2003
234
To his friends said the drunk one in chatter,
I have learned something new about matter!
My drinking speed is so great,
all that beer increased my weight,
Yet I have failed to become any fatter!'
KCXNGH 01/24/2003
233
There once was a young Californian miner,
Who prospected a bit in North China.
He described a deep, hairy and smelly crevasse,
That ran horizontal, and sparkled like glass,
As a petrified Chinese vagina.
KCXNGH 01/22/2003
232
Though he wasn't really too vile,
Clamper KC seemed filled such with bile.
The bridges he burned,
and friendships were turned,
I wish he rest his fingers a while......
Silent Sandy 01/22/2003
231
There once was a wheezy old fart,
Who thought eating pussy too tart.
He'd deck out the juice,
With that sweet chocolate mousse.
And boasted "Eating pussy's an art!".
One night when the old man was down lickin',
He noticed his whiskers were stickin'.
The vaginal glue,
(In whose hole? You know who!)
Had the old geezer a tad panic stricken.
When finally he pulled his face loose,
From the chocolate, the glue, and the juice,
He wiped off his face,
And then said in disgrace,
"My vomiting must you induce?"
"My douche?!", said the girl with wide eyes,
"Why, I haven't since Will won the prize.
But if you insist,
I will spray it with mist,
Though you seem not to be quite my size."
KCXNGH 01/21/2003
230
Mr. Davis, don't stand between,
some dumb coin with a bridge and our 13.
It's time fer you to step up and say,
Jim Marshall's coin will be California's one day!
Steve 58 01/21/2003
229
There was once a lass from california,
Gina Talia's her name, but I warn ya!
You think she's so sweet,
When she flings out both of them teets!
But she'll beat you without an oily formula.
But But But
There once was a young miss from California,
Who I surely must warn ya!
Crazy Mary says she's so very shy,
But on her words I wouldnt rely!
By the hickeys on your neck, she'll have worn ya!
KCXNGH 01/20/2003
228
A computer, to print out a fact,
will divide, multiply and subtract.
But this output can be,
no more than debris,
if the input was short of exact.
and , and, and lastly....
The arms of a barmaid from Yale,
Were tattooed with the price of the ale.
And on her behind,
For the use of the blind,
Was the same information, in Braille.
KCXNGH 01/19/2003
227
Chuck writes of farting in stores,
and Kenny of gassy old whores.
My predeliction I think,
is to make a big stink,
not runny brown puddles on floors.
but, but, but,
A might politician Champaign
he wooed voters from the rear of his train.
but it was what they didn't hear,
that cost his efforts so dear,
and shit all over his campaign.
uh, uh, uh,
A mighty gasbag was young fraser,
with more powerful bursts than some lasers.
they banned him from every walmart,
because when he would really start,
the results required 10 glazers.
Silent Sandy 01/17/2003
226
A Clamper once let out a big fart,
That blew is red shorts all apart.
He didn't really care,
Cuz he found another pair,
On sale at the local Wal Mart.
He was puttin them on in the store,
When he felt one comin on once more.
From the small dressing room,
Came a giant KABOOM!
And it knocked everything to the floor.
Now it aint hard to understand,
And it's known throughout the land.
He no longer farts,
In any Wal Marts,
Cus his ass was permanently banned.
Keyhole 01/17/2003
225
There once was a grandiose fart,
That got off to bellicose start,
'Twas seeminly so sweet,
Made it's way to the elite,
Now it's bottled and labelled as Art !
But, But, But, . . .
There was a Clamper from Bohgat,
Whose ass cheeks were incredibly fat,
They had to be parted,
Whenever he farted,
And proped wide apart when he shat.
But, but, but,
A prostitute living in Queens,
Had a terrible passion for beans.
Her Johns would depart,
When she started to fart,
Through a gaping big hole in her jeans!
but, but, but. . .
Spurred on by a very high wager,
With an envious Lieutenant Major.
He proceeded to fart,
The complete oboe part,
Of the Hayden Octet in B-Major.
KCXNGH 01/16/2003
224
Disco was the pimp in the 'cuda,
peddling some Mexican Putah.
His profits were more like a joke,
cause he got paid with barely a poke,
he liked the way they licked his doo dah.
Silent Sandy 01/10/2003
223
KC wuz thought to speak cobol,
but really wuz playing low ball.
He speaks 'puter like a geek,
and to some it's all greek,
for the rest it grows like a snow ball.
Silent Sandy 01/6/2003
222
We’re gearin up fer Norton,
It’s only a week away.
The crabs are hoppin’ from the sand,
( it’ll be a fine buffet)
“Check that oil”, “Fill that tank”,
Our race will soon be finished.
We’ll head out for another year,
Our spirits undiminished.
When home we get home,
(Too late I’ll bet )
The wider will admonish,
Your antics they perplex me so,
You ceaselessly astonish.
Whippinboy 1/5/2003
221
The time flies to swiftly to sample all life's pleasures,
we only hope that when we go we leave behind some treasures.
The memories that we hoped most men would cherish,
are often gone before some have yet to perish.
It's the sendoff once we're dead that truly is our measure.
To the brothers who made last year worth being here,
and who won't be with us this year.
Lest we never forget.
Silent Sandy 01/04/2003
220
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