The Style Invitational Week 974 Eat our dust
By Pat Myers
Mr. Hitchcock kept fans on their toes
By the offbeat locations he chose.
But who would have guessed
That for “North by Northwest”
He would pick poor George Washington’s
nose? (Jay Livingston, New York Magazine Competition, 1982)
This week’s
contest marks a particularly delicious milestone for us: We’ve just outrun the
973 installments of the renowned New York Magazine Competition, the contest
that the Empress’s predecessor, the Czar, ripped off in the sincerest form of
flattery when he created the Style Invitational back in 1993. That contest, run
by the famed Mary Ann Madden, was retired in 2000, but since then we’ve
continued to redo several of its contests — and happily provide a new outlet for
some of its best contestants, such as Chris Doyle. It was Chris who remembered
the contest we present this week in NYM’s honor; it was initially suggested by
rookie phenom Loser Robert Schechter: Write a limerick humorously describing a
book, play, movie or TV show. See wapo.st/limrules for our guidelines on
writing limericks.
Winner gets the Inkin’
Memorial, the Style Invitational trophy. Second place wins — and this is the
sort of thing that sets our contest apart from the refined Ms. Madden’s — a
very special leather coin purse, donated by Dave Letizia and made in Australia.
It’s very special because it’s made from a kangaroo pouch — a male kangaroo
pouch. It is entirely seamless. It looks something like this one.
Other runners-up win their
choice of a coveted Style Invitational Loser T-shirt, a yearned-for Loser Mug
or the new, ardently desired Grossery Bag. Honorable mentions get a
lusted-after Loser magnet. First Offenders get a smelly, tree-shaped air
“freshener” (Fir Stink for their first ink). E-mail entries to
losers@washpost.com or fax to 202-334-4312. Deadline is Monday, June 11;
results published July 1 (online June 29). No more than 25 entries per entrant
per week. Include “Week 974” in your e-mail subject line or it might be ignored
as spam. Include your real name, postal address and phone number with your
entry. See contest rules and guidelines at wapo.st/StyleInv. The subhead for
this week’s honorable mentions is by Kevin Dopart;the alternative headline for
the “Next week” line is by Craig Dykstra. Join the Style Invitational Devotees
on Facebook at on.fb.me/invdev .
Report from Week 970, in which we asked you to pair a line from a famous poem with a second
line of your own. Fabulous entries, many from well-known light-verse poets who
are becoming first-time Losers. Many more of these are in the online Invite.
Click on the poets’ names below to see the original poems.
The winner of the Inkin’ Memorial
Since there’s no help, come,
let us kiss and part;
I read Dave Barry books, and
you read Sartre. ( Michael Drayton , 1563-1631/ Brendan Beary, Great Mills,
Md.)
2. Winner of the Lil William
(Shakespeare) “posable figure”: Funny — to be a Century — and see the People
going by
And scream at them, “Get off
my lawn!” and stare them down with evil eye. (Emily Dickinson/Nan Reiner,
Alexandria, Va.)
3. In Xanadu did
Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree.
“No auto elevator?
Gosh! That’s not a house for Ann and me.” (Samuel Taylor Coleridge/Chris Doyle,
Ponder, Tex.)
4. Much have I travell’d in
the realms of gold
And will again, when I get
paroled. (John Keats/Mary E. Moore, Gladwyne, Pa., a First Offender)
Poetry in demotion: Honorable mentions
They flee from me, that
sometime did me seek.
My Arrid Extra Dry ran out
this week. (Thomas Wyatt/Melissa Balmain, Rochester, N.Y.)
The caged bird sings with a
fearful trill
As Katy Perry often will.
(Maya Angelou/Andy Bassett,
New Plymouth, New Zealand)
It is an ancient Mariner, and
he stoppeth one of three,
And he said, “They called me
A-Rod, then found steroids in my pee.” (Coleridge/Jeff Brechlin, Eagan, Minn.)
I have a little shadow that
goes in and out with me.
He thinks I’m in al-Qaeda,
and reports to Leon P.
(Robert Louis
Stevenson/Stephen Gold, Glasgow, Scotland)
No man is an island, entire
of itself:
He is, at most, a pimple on
the continental shelf.
(John Donne/Christopher
Lamora, Guatemala City)
Peace, peace! He is not dead,
he doth not sleep;
Please leave your name and
number at the beep.
(Percy Bysshe Shelley/Brendan
Beary)
We have lingered in the
chambers of the sea
To have an unsuspected silent
pee. (T.S. Eliot/Basil Ransome-Davies, Lancaster, England, a First Offender)
How do I love thee? Let me
count the ways . . .
Should we count the lies or
just the lays? (Elizabeth Barrett Browning/Edmund Conti, Raleigh, N.C.)
And all should cry, Beware!
Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
But I was brave, and then and
there, I chopped it off! Now his head’s bare. — M. Romney, Cranbrook School
(Coleridge/Duncan Stevens, Vienna, Va., a First Offender)
I wandered lonely as a cloud
From which no downloads are
allowed. ( William Wordsworth/Robert Schechter, Dix Hills, N.Y.)
Yours is the Earth and
everything that’s in it:
Do pay some heed to the speed
at which you spin it. (Rudyard Kipling/ Konrad Schwoerke, Chapel Hill, N.C.)
O Captain! My Captain! our
fearful trip is done.
“Stay aboard,” Schettino
said. “This lifeboat holds just one.” (Walt Whitman/Rob Cohen, Potomac, Md.)
When you are old and grey and
full of sleep,
They’ll make your biopic with
Meryl Streep. (W.B. Yeats/Frank Osen, Pasadena, Calif.)
I think I should have loved
you presently,
But your stench preceded
effervescently.(Edna St. Vincent Millay/Kate Fitzgerald, Annapolis, Md., a
First Offender)
I have heard the mermaids
singing, each to each.
That is why they put the
sharp knives out of reach. (T.S. Eliot/Terry Reimer, Frederick, Md., a First
Offender)
Things fall apart; the centre
cannot hold;
I SAID: “Don’t cut that cake
until it’s cold!” ( William Butler Yeats / Beverley Sharp, Montgomery, Ala.)
A shudder in the loins
engenders there,
So don’t keep ice cream in
your underwear. (Yeats/Kevin Dopart, Washington)
Drinke to me, onely, with
thine eyes
And you won’t have to
Breathalyze. (Ben Jonson/Gerald Diamond, London, Ontario)
Drinke to me, onely, with
thine eyes,
Unlesse thou offeres up thy
thighs. (Ben Jonson/Craig Dykstra, Centreville, Va.)
For God’s sake hold your
tongue and let me love
The money that I robbed my
clients of. (John Donne/Mae Scanlan, Washington)
The paths of glory lead but
to the grave,
So what’s the point of trying
to behave? (Thomas Gray/Jan D. Hodge, Sioux City, Iowa, a First Offender)
Rough winds do shake the
darling buds of May;
Her mother’s off to buy a bra
today. (Shakespeare/David Smith, Santa Cruz, Calif.)
Slowly, silently now, the
moon
Shows full; oh, raise those
trousers soon! (Walter de la Mare/ Ann Martin, Bracknell, England)
The world is too much with
us; late and soon,
It’s time to build a town up
on the moon. — N. Gingrich (Wordsworth/ Robert Schechter)
Your huddled masses yearning
to breathe free
Are out of favor with the
GOP. (Emma Lazarus/Chris O’Carroll, Emporia, Kan., a First Offender)
Ah, distinctly I remember it
was in the bleak December:
Bridges burned I to an ember,
texting my distinguished member. (Edgar Allan Poe/Gary Crockett, Chevy Chase,
Md.)
While I nodded, nearly
napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping
at my chamber door.
Go away! I need no caulking,
nor whatever else you’re hawking! And if it’s religious squawking, I have heard
it all before! (Poe/Nan Reiner)
“The time has
come,” the Walrus said,
“To make the world
think Paul is dead.” (Lewis Carroll/Chris Doyle)
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a
stately pleasure dome decree.
Said Donald Trump, “That
joint’s a dump! I’ll build one bigger — named for me. “ (Coleridge/Cy Gardner,
Arlington, Va.)
There goes the Wapiti --
Get off my proppiti. (Ogden
Nash/Travis McKinney, San Antonio, a First Offender)
When the frost is on the
punkin and the fodder’s in the shock,
It’s time to take your meds,
because you’re talking baby-talk. (James Whitcomb Riley/ Frank Osen)
And on the pedestal these
words appear:
“Yo, Ozymandias, Kilroy was
here!” (Shelley/Barrie Collins, Long Sault, Ontario)
They also serve who only
stand and wait,
But none of them’s been left
a tip to date. (John Milton/Bill Greenwell, Darlington, England, a First
Offender)
Rarely, rarely
comest thou;
Dr. Ruth will see
you now. (Shelley/ Chris Doyle)
I will arise and go now, and
go to Innisfree.
My creditors and former wives
are catching up with me. (Yeats/ J.D. Smith, Washington, a First Offender)
Water, water every where, and
all the boards did shrink.
But Cheney said, “We’re still
not done! Go dunk him in the sink!” (Coleridge/Christopher Lamora)
To me, fair friend, you never
can be old,
Plus, you’ve had lots of work
done, truth be told. (Shakespeare/Brendan Beary)
Once upon a midnight dreary,
while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of
forgotten lore:
“Will my best (my anguished
query) “lose again to Brendan Beary?” “Yes,” a voice; “His work’s superi-or to
yours on every score.” (Edgar Allan Poe/Nan Reiner)
Who will believe my verse, in
time to come,
Was used for something so
completely dumb? (William Shakespeare/Brian Allgar, Paris, a First Offender)
All hope abandon, ye who
enter here:
Unless ye bow to kiss the
Empress’ rear. (Dante/Ann Martin)
Next week: Double Booking, or Tome and Tome Again