The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely » ballads http://www.lordlikely.com Behold! The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely, Aristocratic Adventurer and Gentle-Man of Action! So powerfully erotic, you may wish to keep a few tissues handy. Sat, 25 Feb 2017 22:31:08 +0000 en-US hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=4.3.11 Behold! The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely, Aristocratic Adventurer and Gentle-Man of Action! So powerfully erotic, you may wish to keep a few tissues handy. The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely no Behold! The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely, Aristocratic Adventurer and Gentle-Man of Action! So powerfully erotic, you may wish to keep a few tissues handy. The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely » ballads http://www.lordlikely.com/wp-content/plugins/powerpress/rss_default.jpg http://www.lordlikely.com A Second Helping of Lord Likely’s Big Hairy Ballads http://www.lordlikely.com/archives/random-insertions/a-second-helping-of-lord-likelys-big-hairy-ballads http://www.lordlikely.com/archives/random-insertions/a-second-helping-of-lord-likelys-big-hairy-ballads#comments Thu, 09 Oct 2008 21:47:00 +0000 http://www.lordlikely.com/wp/?p=198 October, 1857.

Good day, all!

While my latest astonishing adventure romps along towards its doubtlessly thrilling, under-garment drenching climax, I thought it was high time we had a brief respite from such relentless action, and took the time to appreciate some more of my frankly brilliant poetry, pulled from my as-yet unpublished book of verse, The Salty Tears of the Love Python.

When courting a lady, I find that there are three things that assist me enormously in my amorous advances: plenty of alcohol, a well-placed finger or two (or even an entire hand, depending on the company) , and of course some fine romantic poetry. There have been many times a woman has melted into my arms upon beholding my seductive stanzas, and now in an extremely generous gesture, I wish to share some of my vagina-dampening verse with you all!

So, dear readers, if you are quite ready, allow me to take my large, proud quill in my hand, and thrust it into your dirty ink-pot, and let us proceed with the poetry…

A Summer’s Day

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
I do not see any reason why not
You leave me sweaty and you make me hot
And you make me want to disrobe an awful lot.

~

Eye Eye

When e’er you look in my direction
I can barely suppress my throbbing erection
I could hold your gaze
For countless days
Because I swear I can see my reflection.

~

Talking Cock

If my penis could talk, I am sure he would say
That you are looking quite lovely to-day.

If my penis could talk, I am sure he’d declare
That he really loves what you’ve done with your hair.

If my penis could talk, I am sure he’d announce
That he loves ev’ry inch of you, and ev’ry ounce.

If my penis could talk, I am sure he would state
That you are completely fabulous, and utterly great.

But why listen to him, waffling on when instead
He could be silenced if you just sat on his head?

~

The Twin Peaks of You

I could tell you how I love your eyes of blue,
But I’m afraid that is not what I’m going to do.
Instead I shall move straight on to your chest,
For that is the part that I do like the best.
You’ll have to excuse me if I stop and stare
But it cannot be helped, they’re a perfect pair.

I want to befriend them and take them for dinner,
Though I’d be preoccupied and wind up only thinner.
I want to hold them and stroke them and tell them I care
Then take them back home and lead them upstairs.
Do not feel neglected, please do not feel blue,
You are more than welcome to accompany us too.

~

A Poem Wherein the Number of Words in the Title
Far Outweighs the Number of Words in the Actual Verse Itself

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
Two tits and one mimsy
That would make three.

~

And so there you have it, my friends, some of the most passionate and perfectly-penned poetry you shall ever lay your eyes upon! Feel free to go forth and deploy my devastatingly-effective words upon your own beloveds. I guarantee you shall be elbow deep in vagina before the night it out! (Or you shall find yourself packed-full of penis, if you are of the fairer sex.) However, should you be successful in your seductions, then I demand photographic evidence for my own… perusal. Yes.

Toodle-pip!

– Lord Likely.

Next Time in The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely: We pick up where we left off, in Lord Likely’s latest adventure, A Lesson In Murder!

A Notice For You To Notice: Having been recently fired from his job for being entirely wretched, my useless scribe, Mr. A. D. Fanton, has recently found new work at a company who clearly know very little about hiring quality staff. Nevertheless, I am sure you will join me in wishing the cove well, even if his return to work has taken priority over his commitments to my lordly self, hence the disgusting lack of updates to the journals this week. The twat-flap.

Hungry for more inter-net based fiction? Then may I suggest you peruse The Web Fiction Guide, Pages Unbound or The Blog Fiction Blog, all of which are thoroughly excellent, due in no small part to the fact that I am listed with them all. Huzzah!
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]]> http://www.lordlikely.com/archives/random-insertions/a-second-helping-of-lord-likelys-big-hairy-ballads/feed 19 Lord Likely’s Big Hairy Ballads http://www.lordlikely.com/archives/random-insertions/lord-likelys-big-hairy-ballads http://www.lordlikely.com/archives/random-insertions/lord-likelys-big-hairy-ballads#comments Mon, 11 Aug 2008 18:21:00 +0000 http://www.lordlikely.com/wp/?p=184 August the Twelfth, 1857.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, there are those in this wide world who would have you believe that I, Lord Likely (Aristocratic Adventurer and Gentleman of Action) am nothing more than a lecherous buffoon, a lewd and undignified scoundrel, born without a shred of decency and cursed with a cold, loveless soul.

To which I say: bollocks.

I have romance flowing through my veins, and frequently dispense large, sticky globules of love from the bell-end of my willy-stick. Loveless? Pah!

To further demonstrate my sensitive side, I have decided to share with you, my dear readers, a selection of my (as yet) unpublished poetry, from a tome I have entitled ‘The Salty Tears of the Love Python’.

I do hope you enjoy them, in a very moist way.

A River of Love

A river of love flows through me
and consumes my very soul.
Then it pours out of my cock-end
And into your arse-hole.

The sea of love rises so fast
that in it we could swim.
But not before I dived head-first
Into your gaping quim.

The cascading falls of my desire
pour down upon your chest
and if there’s any left thereafter
well, you may swallow the rest.

~

A Gift

You wanted me to shower you with money,
I said I’d give you gold instead,
But you did not seem to find it funny
When I pissed upon your head.

~

Cupid’s Arrow

Cupid flew and fluttered in the summer sky
When my lordly frame he did suddenly espy.
He drew his bow and then let his arrow glide
Until it came to a rest deep in my noble backside.
“You little twat!” I roared, considerably in pain.
Then I kicked the ruddy sod right in the plums
He shan’t do that again.

~

Catherine the Great

Oh Catherine you were the greatest,
The greatest in the sack,
When it came to the art of love-making,
You really had the knack.

You loved me in every possible way,
North, East, West and South
You loved me with every part of you
You loved me with your mouth.

You knew the Karma Sutra inside out
Positions strange and new
Our bodies swallowed each other up
Whilst you gobbled on my goo.

Oh Catherine, I still think of you to-day
The time we had was thrilling
Plus you were a bargain too
One whole night for just a shilling.

~

A Helping Hand

Take me in your hand my dear,
And never ever stop
I’ll let you know when I am ready
By spunking out the top.

~

The Sex Train

All ladies may board the Sex Train,
Come snow or sleet or even rain.
Our destination is called Orgasm
Located just inside that chasm.

The train will travel far and wide
Up that tunnel and deep inside
Then we will have to change the track
And venture up the other crack.

The big pink engine never tires
Though its driver sometimes perspires
The engine is stoked and as hot as hell
So come along, m’dear, and ring my bell.

We shall ride and ride for hours on end
The Sex Train will not sway nor will it bend
And I hope it is not too much of a shock
When I reveal that by ‘train’ I mean
‘My cock’.

And so there you go. William Wordsworth, you may scoff your nob off. (Incidentally, Wordsworth was born in a town called Cockermouth, which I find most amusing).

Of course, this is not the first time I have succeeded in mastering the poetic voice. Regular readers may recall a rather wonderful ode I composed in honour of Queen Victoria, which I rather cleverly entitled ‘An Ode to Queen Victoria.’

You can listen to my dulcet tones reading that same masterpiece below. Warning, my dear readers, the sounds of my incredibly sensual tones may lead to spontaneous ejaculations, for which I cannot be held personally responsible.

And so:


An Ode To Queen Victoria.

Marvellous, yes? Curiously, I did not receive a knighthood for that particular piece, no matter how many times I stood outside Buckingham Palace, bellowing it into the windows. ‘Tis a strange world sometimes.

Anyhow, I have bared my ample soul, and poured myself naked and shivering onto the page, an experience which has left me quite worn out, I am afraid.

Plus, I really have the urge to bonk someone senseless.

Toodle-pip!

– Lord Likely.

humor-blogs.com is a poet, and does not know it.

The Likely Empire – Further Reading for Disturbed Minds.


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]]> http://www.lordlikely.com/archives/random-insertions/lord-likelys-big-hairy-ballads/feed 16 ballads,Lord Likely,love,poetry,The Salty Tears of the Love Python,verse,William Wordsworth August the Twelfth, 1857. Despite all evidence to the contrary, there are those in this wide world who would have you believe that I, Lord Likely (Aristocratic Adventurer and Gentleman of Action) am nothing more than a lecherous buffoon, August the Twelfth, 1857. Despite all evidence to the contrary, there are those in this wide world who would have you believe that I, Lord Likely (Aristocratic Adventurer and Gentleman of Action) am nothing more than a lecherous buffoon, a lewd and undignified scoundrel, born without a shred of decency and cursed with a cold, loveless soul. To which I say: bollocks. I have romance flowing through my veins, and frequently dispense large, sticky globules of love from the bell-end of my willy-stick. Loveless? Pah! To further demonstrate my sensitive side, I have decided to share with you, my dear readers, a selection of my (as yet) unpublished poetry, from a tome I have entitled 'The Salty Tears of the Love Python'. I do hope you enjoy them, in a very moist way. A River of Love A river of love flows through me and consumes my very soul. Then it pours out of my cock-end And into your arse-hole. The sea of love rises so fast that in it we could swim. But not before I dived head-first Into your gaping quim. The cascading falls of my desire pour down upon your chest and if there's any left thereafter well, you may swallow the rest. ~ A Gift You wanted me to shower you with money, I said I'd give you gold instead, But you did not seem to find it funny When I pissed upon your head. ~ Cupid's Arrow Cupid flew and fluttered in the summer sky When my lordly frame he did suddenly espy. He drew his bow and then let his arrow glide Until it came to a rest deep in my noble backside. "You little twat!" I roared, considerably in pain. Then I kicked the ruddy sod right in the plums He shan't do that again. ~ Catherine the Great Oh Catherine you were the greatest, The greatest in the sack, When it came to the art of love-making, You really had the knack. You loved me in every possible way, North, East, West and South You loved me with every part of you You loved me with your mouth. You knew the Karma Sutra inside out Positions strange and new Our bodies swallowed each other up Whilst you gobbled on my goo. Oh Catherine, I still think of you to-day The time we had was thrilling Plus you were a bargain too One whole night for just a shilling. ~ A Helping Hand Take me in your hand my dear, And never ever stop I'll let you know when I am ready By spunking out the top. ~ The Sex Train All ladies may board the Sex Train, Come snow or sleet or even rain. Our destination is called Orgasm Located just inside that chasm. The train will travel far and wide Up that tunnel and deep inside Then we will have to change the track And venture up the other crack. The big pink engine never tires Though its driver sometimes perspires The engine is stoked and as hot as hell So come along, m'dear, and ring my bell. We shall ride and ride for hours on end The Sex Train will not sway nor will it bend And I hope it is not too much of a shock When I reveal that by 'train' I mean 'My cock'. And so there you go. William Wordsworth, you may scoff your nob off. (Incidentally, Wordsworth was born in a town called Cockermouth, which I find most amusing). Of course, this is not the first time I have succeeded in mastering the poetic voice. Regular readers may recall a rather wonderful ode I composed in honour of Queen Victoria, which I rather cleverly entitled 'An Ode to Queen Victoria.' You can listen to my dulcet tones reading that same masterpiece below. Warning, my dear readers, the sounds of my incredibly sensual tones may lead to spontaneous ejaculations, for which I cannot be held personally responsible. And so: An Ode To Queen Victoria. Marvellous, yes? Curiously, I did not receive a knighthood for that particular piece, no matter how many times I stood outside Buckingham Palace, bellowing it into the windows. 'Tis a strange world sometimes. Anyhow, I have bared my ample soul, The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely no