Great stuff- I didn't know there was so much bawd in the old masters - or masters in a an old bawd...
I decided to put this piece here, even though it's a song, as it's fabulously indecorous and goes well with the theme:
Does anyone know the history of these and perhaps alternate verses?
The Good Ship Venus
(Traditional)
'Twas on the good ship Venus,
By Christ you should have seen us;
The figurehead
Was a whore in bed
Sucking a dead man's penis.
The captain's name was Lugger.
By Christ he was a bugger.
He wasn't fit
To shovel shit
From one ship to another.
The first mate's name was Carter.
By God he was a farter.
When the wind wouldn't blow,
And the ship wouldn't go,
Carter the farter would start 'er.
The second mate's name was Hopper.
By God he had a whopper;
Twice round the deck,
Thrice round his neck,
And up his arse for a stopper.
The second mate was Andy,
By Christ he had a dandy,
Till they crushed his cock
On a jagged rock
For coming in the brandy.
The third mate's name was Morgan,
By god he was a gorgon,
From half past eight
he played till late,
Upon the captain's organ.
The captain's wife was Mabel,
And by God was she able
To give the crew
Their daily screw
Upon the galley table.
The captain's daughter Charlotte,
Was born and bred a harlot,
Her thighs at night
were lily white,
By morning they were scarlet.
The cabin boy was Kipper,
By Christ he was a nipper.
He stuffed his arse
with broken glass
And circumcised the skipper.
The captain's lovely daughter
Liked swimming in the water.
Delighted squeals
Came when some eels
Swam into her sexual quarters.
The cook his name was Freeman,
He was a dirty demon,
He fed the crew
On menstral stew
And hymens fried in semen.
The ship's dog's name was Rover,
We turned that poor thing over,
And ground and ground
that faithful hound
From Tenerife to Dover.
And when we reached our station,
Through skillful navigation,
The ship got sunk
in a wave of spunk,
From too much fornication.
Alternatives
The captain's name was Morgan,
By Christ he was a gorgon.
Ten times a day
He'd stop and play
With his fucking organ.
The first mate's name was Carter.
By God he was a farter.
He could fart anything
from God Save the King
To Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.
The captain's daughter, Mabel,
Though young, was fresh and able,
To fornicate
with the second mate,
Upon the chartroom table
More Alternatives
THE GOOD SHIP VENUS.
(Traditional - with very, very many variations)
Twas on the good ship Venus,
By gad! You should have seen us,
The figure-head was a whore in bed,
And the mast a rampant penis.
The Captain of this lugger,
He was a dirty bugger,
He wasn't fit to shovel shit,
From one deck to the other.
The Master's name was Cooper,
By god he was a trooper,
He jerked and jerked until he worked
Himself into a stupor.
The first mate's name was Paul
He only had one ball,
But with that cracker he rolled tobacco,
Around the cabin wall.
The third mate's name was Morgan,
A Homosexual gorgon,
Three times a day fine tunes he'd play
Upon the Captain's organ.
I'll tell you more of Morgan,
By God, he was a Gorgon,
Six men could ride with legs astride
Upon his sexual organ.
The Captain's randy daughter,
Was swimming in the water,
Delighted squeals came as the eels,
Entered her sexual quarter.
The Captain loved the cabin boy,
He loved him like a brother,
And every night between the sheets,
They cornholed one another.
The cabin boy was Kipper,
The filthy little nipper,
He stuffed his arse with broken glass
And circumcised the skipper.
The cabin boy, the cabin boy,
His first name was Davy,
He filled his bum with bubble gum,
And vulcanised the Navy.
The bosun's name was Hopper,
By Christ he had a whopper,
Twice round the deck, once round his neck
And up his arse as a stopper.
But the bosun's plan was prosperous,
He dipped his cock in phosphorous;
All through the night it kept alight
To guide us through the Bosporous.
The cook was Old O'Malley,
He didn't dilly-dally.
He shot his bolt with a hell of a jolt,
And whitewashed half the galley.
The trainee cook was Wooden,
By Christ he was a good'un;
He tossed off twice in a bag of rice
And called it sago puddin'.
We caught little Middie Tupper
And rubbed his balls with butter;
The charge whizzed past the mizzen mast
And foamed against the scupper.
There was Midshipman Caruthers,
Beloved of all the others;
He wasn't quite a hermaphrodite,
But a mistake of his mothers.
The gunner was McPherson
To snatch had an aversion,
So he stuck his cock up a water-cock,
A peculiar perversion!
The ship's dog's name was Rover,
The whole crew did him over.
They ground and ground that faithful hound
From Singapore to Dover.
There was Able Seaman Carter,
By God he was a farter.
When the wind wouldn't blow and the ship wouldn't go,
Carter, the farter, would start her.
A fine musician Carter
He a tuneful bloody farter.
He could play anything from God Save The King
To Beethoven's' Moonlight Sonata.
The Fifth Mate's name was Slater,
He was a masturbator.
He'd pump and pump his massive stump,
And clean the mess up later.
The Sixth mate's name was Andy,
By God that man was randy.
We boiled his bum in red-hot rum,
For cumming in the brandy.
The Captain was elated,
The crew investigated.
They found some sand in his prostate gland,
And he had to be castrated.
On every foot of rigging,
There were sailors frigging,
In the lookout's nest, they'd take a rest,
From their poking and their digging.
'Twas in the Adriatic,
Where the water's almost static,
The rise and fall of cock and ball,
Was almost automatic.
We sailed to the Canaries,
To screw the local fairies;
We got the syph in Tenerife
And the clap in Buenos Aires.
Sailing on the Sargasso,
To make the doldrums pass, Oh,
We'd launch a spree of buggery,
Upon each other's assholes.
We knew sooner or later,
Approaching the equator,
That every Jack would have a whack,
At turning fornicator.
Each sailor lad's a brother,
To each and one another,
We'd take great pains at our daisy chains,
Whilst writing home to mother.
We saw a Spanish Galleon,
Its figurehead a stallion,
And when we saw it was full of whores,
There wasn't any dallyin'.
The end of this narration,
Is a credit to the nation,
For we sunk the junk in a sea of spunk,
Caused by mutual masturbation.
For though we reached our station,
Through skilful navigation,
The ship got sunk, in a wave of spunk,
From too much fornication.
So now we end this serial,
Through sheer lack of material,
I wish you luck and freedom from,
Diseases venereal.
Having done minutes of unpaid research into this topic since posting, I have discovered that there are literally hundreds of variations on the theme of this song... sailors must have had a rum old time...
Nigel
[This message has been edited by Nigel Holt (edited January 25, 2002).]
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