Style Conversational Week 1463, with our guest Kyle Stonversational The Style Invitational Empress on this week’s spoonerism contest and song parody results Bob Staake's illustrated example for Style Invitational Week 124, July 1995. Bob might still have this cartoon on file, which means you could buy it — or another piece of Invite art — by asking at bobstaake.com/SI. By Pat Myers November 18, 2021 at 5:17 p.m. EST Hi, all: I just got my Internet restored after a power outage and SOME of the Conversational was saved. Gotta love Our Modern World. But I’ve been on the phone with Verizon for an hour … Never once, since I started Invite song contests in 2004 (here’s a page of extra honorable mentions), have I not been overflowing with outstanding material, way more than I could rationally expect a reader to get through. And so it was with the results of Week 1459, whose subject matter was limited only by the requirement that the lyrics be people “singing about themselves” — in other words, in the first person. The Loser Community responded with songs “by” not only the usual (lots of Trump, a few Bidens and other politicians) but also everyone from Shaggy of “Scooby-Doo” (to “Happy”) to Christopher Steele of “dossier” fame (an unprintably graphic “Puttin’ On the Spritz”). I heard from about 125 songwriters, some of whom — I’m talking about you, Duncan Stevens — sent as many as 20 songs. I ended up running eight songs on the print page in Arts & Style, plus a dozen more online, including two videos: in other words, enough material for a generous-sized album. But still, some Losers were robbed of ink, plain and simple. And so I’ll be featuring more parodies over the next week or so in the Style Invitational Devotees group (I know Facebook isn’t exactly The Fashionable Club to Join right now, but the group is private; is watched over personally by me and my co-admin, the wise Alex Blackwood; and isn’t affected by the bad-actor aspects of The Evil Algorithm). I’ll make sure to include the hashtag #parodies when I post each one, so you’ll be able to search on that tag and find them all. First up will be Greg Dobbins’s “Aaron Rodgers” singing “Covid on My Q-tip” to the 1959 Connie Francis song “Lipstick on Your Collar.” It’s the third Clowning Achievement win, and the 18th Invite win all-time, for Duncan Stevens, who captured a “III” flag to adorn his Disembodied Clown Head on a Stick trophy with a jab at the potentially principled but ultimately spineless Sen. Susan Collins, using one of the Invite’s most popular parody songs, “If I Only Had a Brain.” Because I can’t shuffle individual multi-line entries such as poems and songs, I read each Loser’s full submission at once, though without a name attached. I’d read eight songs by Entrants 1 through 6 (I don’t see the names) and wasn’t wowed by any of them, and then called up Entrant 7. And Songs 7A through 7X. I marked a star in front of 7A, a star for 7C, two stars for 7D … My shortlist now had 12 songs just by Entrant 7. The Devotees will be seeing some of them on Facebook. This week’s runners-up are also veteran Loserbards: Mark Raffman’s name is most famously linked to “Be My Guest,” a song he’s parodied for ink something like a dozen times (a fact that’s joked about by Elliott Shevin’s funny parody today), but today he used the pretty (even though it’s about a rat) theme song of the movie “Ben” — a tune I don’t think we’ve used here before — for a song about his incoming governor, Glenn Youngkin, and how much he may or may not owe Trump. Melissa Balmain used “I Cain’t Say No” successfully for the second time (she told me before I lost my Internet) and Hildy Zampella made “I Will Survive” a bit chilling when you see who’s so determined to do so. ADVERTISING What Doug Dug: Ace Copy Editor Doug Norwood read the eight print songs — the four winners plus Barbara Sarshik’s Leonard Cohen, Beverley Sharp’s Eve, Coleman Glenn’s Terminator and Duncan Stevens’s Velveteen Rabbit — and, after great deliberation, announced: “Liked 'em all!” Spoon-feed us: This week’s contest, Week 1463 Dr. Spooner still garbled his words, Though insisting, “I’m wetter with birds.” At a wedding, this freak Was invited to speak And delivered “a few wasteful turds.” That lovely tribute by Loser Brian Allgar got ink not in our spoonerism contest, but in a later limerick challenge. But it puts its grimy finger on what a spoonerism is — the transposition of the beginnings of two words — which we seek in this week’s contest, Week 1463. While we’ve mentioned Spooner and his accidental -isms numerous times, we seem to have set aside a whole contest for them only once, and that was ages ago, in the early days of the Czar — but one that I happened to judge, when as his co-worker, I agreed to fill in while he went on a four-week August “sabbatical.” (I returned as “Auxiliary Czar” for about a dozen contests in 2001, then took it over for good as Empress in December 2003.) We’re going to do the contest in the very same way, too — in riddle form. Here are the many results of Week 124, complete with an introduction in which I clearly was trying to establish a snotty, imperious tone. If nothing else, it’ll give an idea of what I’m looking for in Week 1463 (deadline Nov. 29). Report from Week 124, in which we asked you to come up with Spoonerisms: transpositions of the beginnings of paired words. (Belated thanks to Kevin Cuddihy of Fairfax for suggesting this contest months ago. Kevin wins a pair of slippers that look like salmon, since he just had knee surgery and could really use, for once, a salmon.) Most of the 1,000-plus entries actually fit the Spooneristic form, though there was the occasional pairing of, say, “Hillary Rodham Clinton” with “Killer hot rod, Rin-Tin-Tin,” or even “the coveted losers’ T-shirt and mildly sought-after bumper stickers” with “the curt staff taught me to avidly shove sick abuser lumps.” (Out of compassion — remember, this contest is now nestled in the nurturing arms of a woman — we refrain from mentioning that both of those entries were from Phil Plait of Silver Spring.) Lots of people sent in utter obscenities, figuring it’d be okay as long as they left out the half of the joke that RHYMED with “truck” or “wit” or “cities.” Ha ha ha, you smart feller, you. And literally dozens of contestants plagiarized from the Rosetta Stone Dirty Joke Obelisk and sent in the ones about the defiant rooster and the epileptic oystermonger. Even that nasty little Czar, who is currently confined to quarters (the rest of his pay has been docked), wouldn’t have stomached that. Fourth runner-up: How is career advice for Tommy Chong like the job description for an actress on “Baywatch”? One is “Best to star with Cheech”; the other is “Chest to star with beach.” (Joel Tompkins, Laurel) Third runner-up: How is the Supreme Court abortion case like what roaches say on TV? One is Roe-Wade; the other is “Whoa! Raid!” (Scott McKenzie, Manassas) Second runner-up: How is Roger Tory Peterson like the Rev. William Spooner? One is a birdwatcher; the other is … a birdwatcher. (Douglas J. Hoylman, Chevy Chase) First runner-up: How is Cole Porter like a reformed Bob Packwood in his reelection bid? One gets no kick from champagne; the other gets no chick from campaign. (J. von Bushberger, Davidsonville) And the winner of the original amateur copy of the “Mona Lisa”: How is adoration of a pop group like a PBS documentary on an obscure European country? One is Beatlemania; the other is “Meet Albania!” (Steven Papier, Wheaton) Honorable Mentions: How is O.J. Simpson like the bloody glove? One is a prosecutor’s perp; the other is a persecutor’s prop. (Joseph Romm, Washington) How is the Capitol at night like President Clinton? One is visible in the city’s lights; the other is visible in Liddy’s sights. (Greg Arnold, Herndon) How is one Buddha figurine like another Buddha figurine? Each is a placid face above a flaccid place. (Matt Westbrook, Baltimore) How is a Washington Chinese restaurant like Rush Limbaugh? One is Mandarin Palace; the other is panderin’ malice. (Alison Kamat, Washington) How is a Mellon-Rockefeller marriage like the result of skinny-dipping in a cold river? One is shrewd linkage; the other is lewd shrinkage. (Elden Carnahan, Laurel) How is a champion golfer like a genetic engineer? One makes big-money putts; the other makes pig-bunny mutts. (Paul Sabourin, Silver Spring) How is a conservative presidential candidate like a flying mammal that projectile-vomits? One is Pat Buchanan; the other is a bat puke cannon. (Joseph Romm, Washington) How is war like Newt Gingrich’s sister? One is “c’est la guerre”; the other is “gay la soeur.” (Steven Papier, Wheaton) How is Nancy Kerrigan like Miss Manners on a roller coaster? One says, “Why me?”; the other says, “My! Whee!” (Tom Witte, Gaithersburg) How is an old movie projector company like an awful name for a heavy-metal group? One is Bell & Howell; the other is Hell & Bowel (Scott L. Vanatter, Fairfax) How is President Clinton’s media image unlike that of House Speaker Newt Gingrich? One is an easy waffler; the other is an awful weaseler. (William Bradford, Washington) How is a hit song like Jack the Ripper? One is a chart topper; the other is a tart chopper. (Steven Papier, Wheaton) How is rotten parsley like Radovan Karadzic at his family farm? One is a sick herb; the other is a hick Serb. (Katie McBride, Alexandria, with Seumas Gillecriosd, Loudoun County) How is a Texas football team like a group of insensitive Chinese monks? One is the Dallas Cowboys; the other are the Callous Tao Boys. (John Garner, Silver Spring) How is the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms like a sadistic Dale Evans? One’s got a Good Ol’ Boy Roundup; the other’s got good ol’ Roy bound up. (Tom Witte, Gaithersburg) How is an earnest amateur golfer like a blind asphalt layer? One is craving a par; the other is paving a car. (Phil Plait, Silver Spring) How is the Moscow Circus like “Star Trek”? One has unconventional bears; the other has unbearable conventions. (J. Calvin Smith, Laurel) How is a double martini like a proctologist? One packs a wallop; the other whacks a polyp. (John Chickering, Rockville) How is an illegal batter’s ploy like a would-be Supreme Court justice who has been eaten by a jaguar? One is cork in a bat; the other is Bork in a cat. (Jennifer Hart, Arlington) How is Tiny Tim like Michael Jackson? One is an androgynous freak; … oh wait, so is the other one. (Michael Kane, Fort Collins, Colo.) How is a piece of lawn furniture like a talkative nanny? One is a patio chair; the other is a chatty au pair. (Helen and Miriam Dowtin, Suitland) How is Catherine Deneuve like the secret behind Newt Gingrich’s helmet head? One is “Belle du Jour”; the other is Gel du Boor. (Willy Hawkins, Washington) How is a blind pop star like how a Londoner would tell someone to avoid a space alien who’d just zapped a woman with a ray gun? One is Stevie Wonder; the other is “Weave! 'E stunned her!” (Steven Offutt, Arlington) How is a Christmas photo at the mall like what your child is sure to do for the photographer? One is Nick pose; the other is pick nose. (Mike Connaghan, Silver Spring) How is celibacy like an afternoon fling between bank tellers? One is safe sex; the other is safe sex. (Mike Thring, Leesburg) How is a lab rat on the space shuttle like Billy Joel? One is mating weightlessly; the other is waiting matelessly. (Edward Palm, Baltimore) How is a henpecked husband like a West Virginian? One’s mate says “do, do, do”; the other’s date says “moo, moo, moo.” (Tom Witte, Gaithersburg) How is an inconsequential radio personality like what his motto should be? One is Don Imus; the other is I’m Dumbest. (Scott L. Vanatter, Fairfax) Thanks, Substackians! Thanks to the hundreds of you who’ve opted in to continue (or start) receiving my weekly Thursday afternoon newsletter, which gives you links to the week’s just-posted Invitational and Conversational. I had moved my 1,800-name mailing list, originally on TinyLetter, to the provider Substack, but I lied a little and said that everyone on the list had expressly asked to join; actually, I’d signed up some Invite entrants myself over the past couple of years when they first entered. So now I’m trying to follow the rules totally, which is why I’m asking everyone who’s been getting the newsletter to email me at myerspat [at] gmail [dot] com and confirm that you want to be there. In a couple of weeks, I’m afraid I’ll have to drop you if you haven’t gotten back to me. To sign up or just to read the newsletter, go to TheStyleInvitational.substack.com and click on the button; all you have to give is your email. And it’s totally free (though the links to the Invitational and Convo still require a Post subscription). Something to be thankful for (it is too!): We’ll be a day early next week As we do every Thanksgiving week, the online Style Invitational will publish Wednesday morning rather than Thursday, since the print paper’s Arts & Style section will be typeset that afternoon, so why wait? But given that this means I have to finish the Invite a day earlier, I probably will skip the Convo and start cooking. So I’ll see you in this space in two weeks — but of course the Invitational always comes out. The last week there was no Style Invitational column? The week of Jan. 23, 2000.