The Style Invitational Week 885 Spoof a Post headline
By The Empress
Saturday, September 11, 2010; C02
New Lawsuit to Challenge Laptop Searches
'I Beg Your PARDON!' No Longer Seen as
Effective Deterrent to Gawking Co-Worker
The return of this week's contest
-- a hardy perennial -- was prompted by a headline in last Sunday's Post:
"Atlanta copes with becoming a one-race town." We were concerned for
a moment that the Paragon of the New South had, overnight, undergone some
horrible ethnic purge, until we realized that there will now be only one NASCAR
Sprint Cup race in Atlanta every year, instead of two. This week: Take any
headline, verbatim, appearing anywhere in The Post or on washingtonpost.com
from Sept. 10 through Sept. 20 and reinterpret it by adding a "bank
head," or subtitle (like the joke bank head offered under the actual Post
headline above). You must include the date and page number of the print-paper
headline; for Web articles, give the date and copy a sentence or two of the
story (even better, just copy the URL). You don't have to use the entire length
of the headline, but don't skip words or use misleading snippets; for example,
you can't change "Teachers Pass Out New Assignments" to
"Teachers Pass Out." Headlines in ads and subheads within an article
(as well as actual bank heads) can be used, too, as can the one-line links on
the home page to the articles.
Winner gets the Inker, the
official Style Invitational trophy. Second place wins a vintage-looking
dispenser of Executive Red Tape, a little roll of actual red tape, helpfully
imprinted with "RED TAPE" throughout, donated by Kenneth Harkavy of
Potomac. This item will surely be useful in any number of Losers' offices; to
claim it, the winner need only submit a notarized Runner-Up Requisition 34(b)
in triplicate. Photocopies will not be accepted.
Other runners-up win their
choice of a coveted Style Invitational Loser T-shirt or yearned-for Loser Mug.
Honorable Mentions get one of the lusted-after Style Invitational Loser
Magnets. First Offenders get a smelly, tree-shaped air "freshener"
(Fir Stink for their First Ink). One prize per entrant per week. Send your
entries by e-mail to losers@washpost.comor by fax to 202-334-4312. Deadline is
Monday, Sept. 20. Put "Week 885" in the subject line of your e-mail,
or it risks being ignored as spam. Include your name, postal address and phone
number with your entry. Contests are judged on the basis of humor and
originality. All entries become the property of The Washington Post. Entries
may be edited for taste or content. Results to be published Oct. 9. No purchase
required for entry. Employees of The Washington Post, and their immediate
relatives, are not eligible for prizes. Pseudonymous entries will be
disqualified. The revised title for next week's results is by Kevin Dopart;
this week's honorable-mentions subhead is by Brad Alexander.
Report from Week 882, our annual contest in which we ask for limericks featuring words from
one sliver of the dictionary, this time words beginning with dr-: We received
about 1,000 limericks, of which about 850 didn't contain the requisite
hickory-dickory-dock/dickory-dock rhythm, didn't rhyme properly, and/or weren't
very funny or witty. Fortunately, some of the greatest limericians on Earth are
Style Invitational Losers.
The winner of the Inker:
A line, hint or clue; to my
knees;
A subject, a bomb and my
fees;
Off or out, in or by;
The ball and my guy --
Droppin' everything, even my
g's.
(Carole Lyons, Arlington)
2. the winner of the pair of
Handerpants tighty-whitey-motif gloves:
When a
mathematician named Lind
Was informed he
looked pie-eyed, he grinned:
"I shan't
drink anymore
Since I'm 3.14
15926 sheets to
the wind."
(Chris Doyle,
Ponder, Tex.)
3. In feudal times, droit du
seigneur
Meant a lord could "invade"
(filthy cur!)
The bride of his vassal
Right there in the castle!
Predictably, no one asked
HER.
(Mae Scanlan, Washington)
4. The AAA-AA, I think,
Is a merger -- two clubs got
in sync.
(AAA is for cars;
AA, too many bars.)
It's for folks who are driven
to drink.
(David Goldberg, Pinckney,
Mich., a First Offender) Goldie
AABBA dabbling: Honorable Mentions
When invited to dine with
Count Dracula,
I expected a menu spectacula;
But d'you know what I got?
Merely blutwurst, that's
what!
(I.e., "blood sausage"
-- that's the vernacula).
(Hugh Thirlway, The Hague)
While the airlines denounce
him emphatically,
Seems the blogosphere lauds
him fanatically:
Steven Slater (with brewski).
Bid a fond
"toodelooski"
And then exited rather
dramatically.
(Craig Dykstra, Centreville)
By chance, a tattooist named
Scotty
Encountered his client (a
hottie!).
He had to think fast,
So he drew from the past,
Saying, "I have designs
on your body!"
(Beverley Sharp, Washington)
Ground Zero should
hallow the dead,
So Muslims now
fill us with dread
By expecting to
pray
At a mosque blocks
away.
We should build a
new strip club instead!
(Chris Doyle)
When Roy Pearson dropped off
his dry-cleaning,
No one knew what a tale we'd
be gleaning.
But with each new report
Of his chutzpah in court,
The word
"pant-a-loon" gained a new meaning.
(Nan Reiner, Alexandra)
As memories pass of the spill
A BP executive, Phil,
Became a new dad
Of a promising lad
He aptly named Drill -- Baby
Drill.
(Rob Cohen, Potomac)
My name's Friday. I carry a
gun.
And a badge. I'm a cop. It's
no fun.
I take calls at my desk.
My talk's Hemingwayesque.
"This is Dragnet. You're
busted." (I'm done.)
(Brendan Beary, Great Mills)
In the Draize test, a drug
costing money
Is put in the eyes of a bunny
In numerous spurts
To see if it hurts.
(This lim'rick's not going to
be funny.)
(Mae Scanlan)
As Rush Limbaugh's fourth
wedding drew near,
In a liberal show of good
cheer,
He shelled out a million
To rock crocodilian --
A choice that his listeners
thought queer.
(David Lewis, Jeffersonville,
Ind., a First Offender) Jeter Coffee
Are you feeling too focused
while driving?
Well, help from your
dashboard's arriving:
Use the Net in your car.
Yes, wherever you are
You can surf. But good luck
with surviving.
(Madeleine Begun Kane,
Bayside, N.Y., a First Offender)
When she left me, I felt a
great void,
So I bought a new smartphone,
a Droid.
Would it cook, make the bed?
I beseeched it. It said,
"Not right now!"
and it sounded annoyed.
(Kannan Thiruvengadam,
Boston, a First Offender) limarico &
Rudi
More dr- limericks will be published Sept. 24.
Next week: Same difference, or Correspondence coarse.
Lim Pickings: More limericks from Week 882
A druidic magician
named Matt
Makes a nun
disappear just like that.
Then he opens a
trap
Holding rodents,
and zap!
Pulls a habit
right out of a rat. (Chris Doyle, Ponder, Tex.)
Direct from the bar Pa came
slinking;
Ma noticed his breath was
still stinking.
When she said he was drunk,
He declared, "That is
bunk!
"It was I who was doing
the drinking!" (Erik Wennstrom, Bloomington, Ind.)
I'm shocked that
the public ignores
What goes on in
our furniture stores,
Where chests get
caressed,
Kings and queens
stand undressed,
And there's
regular dropping of drawers. (Chris Doyle)
John Cleese, from his very
first role,
Knew the way to America's
soul:
Though a joke may be crude,
Obnoxious and rude,
In a posh British accent,
it's droll. (David Smith, Santa Cruz, Calif.)
When feeding your baby a
nibble,
The chances are great he will
dribble.
Although he might scowl,
Just wipe with a towel.
And if that won't work, maybe
a bib'll. (Mae Scanlan, Washington)
His daughter is dead, the
poor lamb;
When his wife says, "I'm
sorry, I am --
Now, dear, pour me a drink
So I don't have to
think,"
Rhett says, "Frankly, I
don't give a dram." (Ann Martin, Bracknell, England)
The princess,
allergic to hay,
Has been sniffling
and sneezing since May.
Now she's wooed by
a knight
With a potion that
might
Have Isolde on
Dristan all day. (Chris Doyle)
An acrobat, cream
of the crop,
Karl Wallenda rose
fast to the top --
This aerial king
Had the world on a
string.
Life was good to
the very last drop. (Chris Doyle)
Read more limericks.
Next week: Rekindling the spork, or Whybrids
Dribbling on: More "dr-" limericks from
Style Invitational Week 882
By The Empress
Saturday, September 25, 2010;
More honorable-mention limericks from Week 882, a
contest seeking limericks featuring words beginning with dr-:
My drosophila photo you buy
Has a pixel count terribly
high
I will mail it compressed,
So to view it, you'd best
Have a tool for un-Zipping my
fly. (Craig Dykstra, Centreville)
Planned a party as
big as they get;
Went in hock for a
band and Joan Jett.
Sent out invites
-- a ton.
The replies? Not a
one!
Now I'm dreading a
fête worse than debt. (Chris Doyle, Ponder, Texas)
When the queen bee insists
that they date,
The drones try to pass,
citing fate:
"While we'd love to have
sex,
We know we'll be wrecks
Since you rip out our organs
to mate." (Jane Auerbach, Los Angeles)
Some married men can't help
but drool
When a hottie walks by at the
pool.
They must tell their mate,
"Deah,
I've got sialorrhea"
And just hope that the wife
plays the fool. (Edmund Conti, Raleigh, N.C.)
For your boy, who
consoled you, a dreidel.
For your mom, who
made soup, a new leidel.
For your husband
who swore
He'd stop seeing
that whore,
What'll even the
score? A greneidel! (Chris Doyle)
There's romance with singing
and crying;
There's fighting and scheming
and dying --
My day's full of drama
Till my wife or my mama
Gets home, flips the channel,
starts buying. (Kannan Thiruvengadam, Boston)
The twin playmates whom I'm
double-teaming
With their passionate moaning
and screaming
Could have woken the dead,
But they woke me instead --
Not surprisingly, I was just
dreaming. (Craig Dykstra)
Fifty channels, and none of
them free.
So you'd think there'd be
something to see
But alas it's such crap,
I prefer a good nap.
Apropos that it's called
DreckTV. (Craig Dykstra)
There once was a debutante's
Dr.
Who'd rest not until he'd
defr.
For her honor's safe guard
She did try (but not hard),
It was what she'd been
missing that sho. (Doug Harris, Stockton-on-Tees, England)