Nursery Rhymes?

Warning, OUTRAGEOUS is a series of filth, swearing, insanity and gross images. The easily offended (and not so easily) and anyone under about 35 should stop reading right now!

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Mary Mary quite contrary how does your garden grow?

With silver bells and cockle shells and buckets of horse shit that I scrape off the road after those bastard coppers have ridden by.

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Hickory dickory doc, the mouse ran up the clock, the clock struck one and smashed its fucking head in. Stupid rodent wasn’t wearing its hard hat.

Health and safety will have to be informed.

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Peter piper picked a peck of pickled pepper. If Peter piper picked a peck of pickled pepper, where’s the peck of pickled pepper Peter piper picked?

Well, Mr Bond, tell me or prepare to die!

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Little miss muffet sat on her tuffet eating her curds and whey, along came a spider that sat down beside her and she stamped on it with her hobnailed boot. Then she finished her curds, but threw the whey into a bush because it tasted like baby sick. The same bush she’d earlier taken a piss in because she couldn’t be bothered to walk to the latrine in her hobnailed boots.

Lazy bitch.

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Mary bought a bit of butter but the bit of butter was bitter, so Mary bought a better bit of butter to make the bitter butter better.

Clearly that wouldn’t work. The whole lot would go fucking rancid.

Silly cow.

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Simple Simon met a pie man going to the fair. Said simple Simon to the pie man, pray what have you there?

Said the pie man to simple Simon, pies you dribbling cunt, so unless you got some cash get out of my fucking way, I’ve got a living to earn.

Don’t make me hurt you.

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Little Jack Horner sat in the corner eating his Christmas pie, he stuck his thumb right up his bum and said who wants a bit of my pie and everyone said, thanks for the offer, but we’ll leave it if it’s all the same to you.

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Ring a ring a roses, a pocket full of posies, atishoo, atishoo, oiy you wanker you’ve got snot all over my shirt now!

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Mary had a little dress that was split up the side

And every step that Mary took the boys could see her thigh.

Now Mary had another dress that was split up the front

But sadly she never wore that one…

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She sells sea shells on the sea-shore.

And blow jobs under the pier.

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Doctor Foster went to Gloucester in a shower of rain. He stepped in a puddle right up to his middle and a big lorry ran over his face.

Serve him right, too. Since when did puddle rhyme with fucking middle?

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Hickory dickory dock, the mouse ran up the clock and broke it, the little cheese-loving twat. I had to take my much-loved timepiece to the menders and it cost me nearly ten quid to get it fixed.

Teach me to buy cheap shit from passing gypos.

Their lucky heather doesn’t work, either. While I was inquiring how lucky it was likely to be, one of their family nicked the slates off my roof. I don’t call that lucky. They do, given they can get three quid each for them, but I don’t.

Insult to injury, a week later, I was summonsed to court for calling them thieving gypos under race hate legislation and told I might also be taken to the court of human rights.

And the RSPCA are after me for mouse cruelty.

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Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water, but Jack tied her up, pissed on her and took a dump in her handbag because he’d gone a bit weird in the head after previously falling down and breaking his crown.

Which just goes to prove vinegar and brown paper is no way to treat a skull fracture and concussion.

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How much wood could a wood truck chuck if a wood truck could chuck wood?

I’ve heard some stupid questions in my time…

Is the pope a Catholic, is another one. Of course he is. Just like he’s a nazi. Goes without saying.

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Red lorry yellow lorry. Why would anyone want to say that ten times fast? That’s more likely to lead to a nasty tongue sprain than cunnilingus.

Wouldn’t leave such a funny taste in your mouth, though, I suppose. Or a fanny taste.

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I’m not a  pheasant plucker, I’m a pheasant plucker’s son and I’m only plucking pheasants till the pheasant plucker comes.

Excuses, excuses. Just get on with it. I’m not a boxer, I’m a boxer’s son, but I could still punch your face in you whining prick.

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Baa baa black sheep have you any wool

Yes sir, yes sir, but don’t call me black and ting

You is a damn fool, innit, blood clat

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Mary Mary quite contrary how does your garden grow?

With silver bells and cockle shells and the two husbands I buried under the patio.

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She sells sea shells on the sea shore

And pirated DVDs down the market, except on Thursdays when she has to sign on

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Mary had a little lamb, her father shot it dead

Now she takes it to school with her between two lumps of bread

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Little Jack Horner sat in the corner eating his Christmas pie

He stuck in his thumb and pulled out a plum

Then choked to death on the pip

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Mary bought a bit of butter but the bit of butter was bitter, so Mary bought a gun, killed her husband and buried him under the patio with the other two

Her little lamb weren’t no grass!

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About tonyjayg

I'm a great bloke. That's all you need to know. ;)
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