The Style Invitational Week 986: Hear here?
By Pat Myers, Thursday, August 30, 1:04 PM
“Our seedy pick of the week . . .”
“Moron Afghan refugees in a moment.”
“ . . . rated by Rodent Track magazine .
. .”
Invitational reader Bruce
Ferguson gets a lot of his news and music from the radio, and while he’s never
had Invite ink, he clearly thinks in a Loserly way, as evidenced by the above
phrases that he’s heard on the air recently. This week: Give us a sentence or
short dialogue that would be a lot funnier if a word in it were mistaken for a
homophone of that word, as in Bruce’s examples above.
Winner gets the Inkin’
Memorial, the bobblehead that is the official Style Invitational trophy. Second
place receives a Superfly Monkey, a stuffed animal that catapults from your
fingertips when you pull back on its elastic arms and sails a remarkable
distance while letting loose an annoying scream. This prize would have been a
big hit when we gave it out for Week 826, except that its donor, Lois Douthitt,
managed to win it back (this has happened to Invite prize-donors more than
once; we don’t use the term “Loser” for nothing). This time Phil Frankenfeld is
the donor; let’s see if he’s luckier. See a video of Superfly in action at
bit.ly/monkeyslingshot.
Other runners-up win their
choice of a coveted Style Invitational Loser T-shirt, a yearned-for Loser Mug
or the ardently desired Grossery Bag. Honorable mentions get a lusted-after
Loser magnet. First Offenders get a smelly, tree-shaped air “freshener”
(FirStink for their first ink). E-mail entries to losers@washpost.com or fax to
202-334-4312. Deadline is Monday, Sept. 10; results published Sept. 30 (online
Sept. 27). No more than 25 entries per entrant per week. Include “Week 986” 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/inviterules. The subhead for this week’s honorable
mentions is by Tom Witte; the alternative headline for the “next week’s
results” line was submitted by both Jeff Contompasis and Nan Reiner. Join the
lively Style Invitational Devotees group on Facebook at on.fb.me/invdev.
Report from Week 982: Our annual-or-so song parody contest: This time the restriction was
that you had to include an actual line from the song you were parodying. Click
on the link in each song to hear the melody on YouTube; I’ve found that the
best way to do this is to click on the link, start up the video at the
specified point (one some of them, you have to wait five seconds so you can
skip the rest of the commercial) and then go back to the parody lyrics while
you hear the music — it’s fun to sing along, too, although this is not
recommended during certain religious services.
The winner of the Inkin’ Memorial
The Congressional Theme Song
(to “I Won’t Grow Up,” from “Peter Pan”)
We won’t grow up!
We don’t wanna legislate.
We are always out campaigning
Till the next election date.
We just cast votes for
special perks;
On all the rest, the filibuster
works.
We’ll never grow up, never
grow up, never grow up —
We’re jerks!
We won’t grow up!
We will never compromise;
To obstruct the other party
Is our one and only prize.
We’ve pledged to veto every
tax
For Grover Norquist and the
super-PACs.
We’ll never grow up, never
grow up, never grow up –
We’re hacks! (Nan Reiner,
Alexandria, Va.)
2. Winner of the cute plush
ulcer bacterium:
(To “Another Brick in the
Wall”)
We don’t need no education,
Texas is a thought-free zone.
No evolution in the classroom:
Teachers leave them kids
alone.
Hey! Teachers! Leave them
kids alone!
We’ll stop y’all with another
brick in the wall.
Our kids will all be just
another hick in the mall. (Dixon Wragg, Santa Rosa, Calif.)
3. Friday, Maybe: The Derecho
Song
(To “Call Me Maybe”)
I like electrical stuff, I
never can get enough,
Not having power is rough,
can’t stand the dark and heat.
I like to turn on a light,
have AC running at night,
Make sure my fridge is all
right so I won’t lose my meat.
The rain was flowing, thunder
sky was glowing,
Hot night, wind was blowing,
Not again, our power’s going!
Hey, I call Pepco, and then
they say we
Won’t get back power till
Friday, maybe. (Kathy Hardis Fraeman, Olney, Md.)
4. (To “Born to Run”)
In the day we work out on the
streets, guaranteeing the American Dream.
At night we glide through
mansions of donors, basking in their esteem.
Stung in the pages of the New
York Times:
We’re well heeled, well
connected, not deigning to explain old crimes.
Ann, this task rips the stories
from our past.
Your horse and Seamus, they
always wanna blame us.
We’ve gotta hit Barack till
we’ve won
’Cause champs like us, baby,
we were born to run. (Mike Gips, Bethesda, Md.)
Subpar-odies: Honorable mentions
(To “Let It Snow”)
Oh, the weather
outside is frightful,
Summer’s hot both
day and nightful.
Every winter
leaves us aglow:
There’s no snow!
There’s no snow! There’s no snow!
[Bridge:] But the
scientists can’t be right.
Climate studies
don’t fool me, folks.
Phony data’s been
brought to light.
Global warming is
just a hoax!
Soon the heat will
show signs of stopping,
Average temps will
start to dropping.
That’s the truth
’cause a Fox News show
Tells me so, tells
me so, tells me so. (Chris Doyle, Ponder, Tex.)
(To “The Hokey Pokey”)
You put your right foot in,
you put your right foot out;
You’ve trashed your brand-new
shoes, and profanities you shout;
A steaming pile of excrement
has turned your plans around;
Who let the Great Dane out?
(Beverley Sharp, Montgomery, Ala.)
(To “White Rabbit”)
One pill makes you larger
And two pills wow the gals
And with the lift we’ll give
you
You’ll be the envy of your
pals.
For Cialis, click this link
now. (Mike Gips)
Aboard US Airways Express
3329 Into National
(To “One” from “A Chorus
Line”)
One — runway at the airport
all the planes have got to use.
Two – opposite directions air
controllers can choose.
Sometimes a change in the
weather may flip your sights,
But don’t you think you
should notify all the flights?
One – moment till collision,
time to kiss our butts goodbye.
Choose a plane to turn and
fly away – Hey,
You! Try — accident
prevention!
Do I really have to mention
We’re the one! (Nan Reiner)
To “Castle on a Cloud” from
“Les Misérables”
(sung by the adorable waif
Bruce Yanovitch, age 7)
There is a castle on a cloud;
Mom has to work there while I
sleep.
So many floors to scrub and
sweep,
Big, dirty castle on a cloud.
There is a man dressed really
nice;
I asked him one time for his
advice.
I’m just a kid, but I kid you
not:
He said, “You’re poor. Get
rich. You missed a spot.”
I know a place where mom
stays home.
There is a lift in that
garage.
Dogs in the car are not
allowed.
Poo trickles down here from
that cloud.
(Amanda Yanovitch,
Midlothian, Va.)
To “Diamonds Are a Girl’s
Best Friend” (start at 0:23)
His bevy of homes can be
quite satisfying;
Oh, Money is Mitt Romney’s
friend.
His large pleasure domes
leave observers oh-mying,
Also, crying “Oh, my stars!”
At elevators for his cars.
He should know, things come
and go,
And we all lose our charm in
the end,
But meanwhile his kitty has
him sitting pretty;
Money is Mitt Romney’s
friend.
A trip to New Hampshire is
quite energizing;
Money is Mitt Romney’s
friend.
And his “summer camp” you
would not find surprising;
All creature comforts within
reach,
And many feet of private
beach.
He’s your guy when stocks are
high,
But the man simply can’t
comprehend
That we are just plain folks;
we’re not like his Bain folks;
Money is Mitt Romney’s
friend. (Mae Scanlan, Washington)
To “Oklahoma!” (start at
0:45)
H. pylori, where you wind up
weepin’ from the pain
And the meals you eat can
have no heat
As an ulcer makes your life
insane!
H. pylori, every night I feel
I’m gonna die--
Chew a lot of chalk and call
the doc,
Hopin’ he’ll have somethin’
else to try.
Don’t know how much more I
can stand,
And I stand to consume food
that’s bland.
So when I cry, Yeeow!
Ayipioee-aiiieee!
I’m only cryin’, Please, let
me dine, H. pylori,
H. pylori. H. py-! (Jeff
Contompasis, Ashburn, Va.)
To “Master of the House” from
“Les Miz” (start at 1:00)
Master of the house, Keeper
of the zoo:
Speaker Boehner has an awful
job to do.
Dealing with the nuts.
Holding down debate;
Has to keep tea party crazies
voting straight.
All House members loathe each
other,
Eric Cantor wants his spot,
Anger causes facial flushes.
So to cover up he tans a lot. (Travis McKinney, San Antonio)
To “Do You Hear the People
Sing?” from “Les Miz”
Do you hear the people sing?
It’s a relentless Broadway
tune
That you pay a hundred bucks
to hear
On Sunday afternoon.
When the thumping in your
ears
Causes your head to start to
throb,
That is the time to up and
leave “Les Misérables.” (Christopher Lamora, Guatemala City)
To “Love and
Marriage” (start at 0:30)
Same-sex marriage,
same-sex marriage,
An institution
that we must disparage!
Chick-fil-A’s Dan
Cathy is proud to say it’s psychopathy.
[Bridge] Try, try,
try to celebrate it, it’s an illusion.
Try, try, try, and
you will only come to this conclusion:
Guy-guy marriage,
gal-gal marriage,
Same-sex weddings
are a gross miscarriage.
God has told us,
brother, you can’t have one spouse like the other. (Chris Doyle)
To “Blowin’ in the Wind”
How many roads must a man
walk down
Before he can flag down a
cab?
How many squats must a fat
man perform
Before he can work off his
flab?
Yes, and how many weights
must he lift up and down
Before he can strengthen an
ab?
The answer, my friend, is one
more than he can,
The answer is one more than
he can. (Robert Schechter, Dix Hills, N.Y.)
“Fugue for
Tinhorns” (from “Guys and Dolls”)
I got the horse
right here,
Her name’s
Rafalca, dear,
It’s your Olympic
sport but I’ll be nowhere near.
Can’t do, can’t
do. Can’t be at Grand Prix with you.
Won’t watch on TV
to see
How well she’ll
do.
The London games
are nice,
But Ann, I’ve good
advice
Because the press
has burned me once or twice.
Can’t view, can’t
view dressage like the rich folk do
And win the
election too. Can’t do. Who knew? (Chris Doyle)
To “That’s Entertainment!”
The clown with his pants
falling down
In a trance while he dreamt
of romance,
Taken in to explain it’s no
sin
At his arraignment.
The light’s on Fred Willard
tonight
As he’s tried with his lawyer
beside,
Standing tall when he gives
it his all
At his arraignment! (Jeff
Contompasis)
To “Crying” by Roy Orbison
I mulled Jindal for the
spice;
There was Rice, she’d be
nice;
And you, Portman, were first,
But the right wanted worst.
So I stopped and said, “No,
no”
Oh, you wished me well
En route to hell
Since I’d picked Ry-y-y-an
over you ... (Kevin Dopart, Washington)
To
“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious”
SuperPAChydermalCampaignFundingHocusPocus,
Even though the sound of it
is something quite atrocious,
Secret bundled megabucks can
make a roar ferocious:
SuperPAChydermalCampaignFundingHocusPocus.
(Come-get-a-senator-there’s-one-here-to-buy,
come-get-a-senator-there’s-one-here-to-buy!)
When I was just a lad in
school I learned this truth by rote:
The thing that makes this
country great is called “one man, one vote.”
But Citizens United has changed
everything we teach:
“Look, boys and girls! A
corporation can buy extra speech.” Oh. . . (Nan Reiner)
To “Bennie and the Jets”
Hey, Tim, what’s the news
this morning?
They signed you as a backup,
so you should have seen the warning.
Did Jesus really want you
coming over here?
The media will watch your
actions all throughout the year.
You say that you’re happy,
you’ve got no regrets;
Ooh, but your team’s spaced
out, T-T-T-Timmy and the Jets.
Oh, but they’re weird and
they’re wonderful,
They’re any newspaper’s
dream.
You throw just like my mom,
but fans are calm,
For you’ve brought God’s
approval on this team.
Oh, Timmy and the Jets
. . . (Matt Monitto, Elon, N.C.)
Biden’s Lament
(To “Oops! I Did It Again”;
start at 0:51)
Oops! I did it again!
I dropped the F-bomb and
thrilled the newsmen.
Obama’s boiling –
Oops! Told bunker’s locale,
No PR knowhow,
I’m not intelligent! (Phyllis
Reinhard, East Fallowfield, Pa.)
To “I’m Flying” from “Peter
Pan”
I’m flying!
Over bars, over vault;
Can I land without fault? I’m
trying.
I’m spinning!
On the beam, on the floor;
No one can touch my score.
I’m winning!
I just beat the best from
everywhere,
So give it a rest about my
hair!
I’m flying!
Ponytail held with clips we
all wear to do flips.
I don’t sport a weave – but
somehow I achieve.
When you can do the same, I
might receive your catty peeve.
I’m flying! (Nan Reiner)
To “Camelot”
It’s true! It’s true! The GOP
stands firm:
For President Obama? Just one
term. . .
A law was passed a distant
moon ago here,
But now it seems that there
are almost none
Since “compromise” became a
dirty word here
In Washington . . . (Dave Hanlon,
Woodbridge)
Rover’s Serenade
(To “L.O.V.E”)
“R” is red, on Mars it’s
everywhere,
“O” is OMG, we made it there!
“V” is very, very
extraordinary
“E,” I’ve got my eye on “R”
that rockin’ Mohawk Guy.
Oh, Cur-iosity, three cheers
to you!
Sure shows what the U.S.A.
can do.
Works much better than we
Ever thought, and now we can
see
Uncle Martin’s point of view.
(Kathy Hardis Fraeman)
To the “Barney and Friends”
theme
I love you, you love me,
Though we’re not a “biblical
family.”
And we’ll celebrate our love
in a non-biblical way,
Making out at Chik-fil-A.”
(Mark Raffman, Reston)
To “Point of No
Return”
You know that once
upon a time
I hoped to run for
veep,
And gave 10 years
of tax returns
McCain would read
and weep.
But now there’s no
getting me
To show the world
the facts.
I’m at the point
of no returns,
And you won’t
learn what I paid in tax. (Chris Doyle)
Prescriptions for Disaster
(To “Manhattan”)
Nowadays, I take Viagra,
’Cause it always causes
aggra-
vation when I flop again,
And need to stop again
. . .
Constantly I have
conniptions,
Fretting over my
prescriptions.
I got four score; soon I’ll
get more.
Here in Manhattan, I’m havin’
statin overload.
All over my abode they’re
stowed.
So much ingestin’ in my
intestine
Causes woe.
Twelve times a day I go,
When balmy breezes blow, to
and fro.
(chorus) I’m gonna keep
taking every med,
Till finally I am dead.
Now where’s the Prozac? It’s
just a vial of joy. (Stephen Gold, Glasgow, Scotland)
To “Seventy-Six Trombones”
Seventy-six grams fat in the
chocolate mousse
And a hundred and ten more
grams in the pie.
It is easy to stuff, of
course, quite enough to choke a horse
In the merest twinkling of an
eye.
[bridge] They’ve a list of
all the luscious things that we should eat:
Turnip greens, fava beans,
yogurt and tofu,
Wilted kale and turkey tail
and soup of beet;
No red meat; it isn’t good —
for — you.
So our conscience nags us
constantly with healthy tips,
Thundering, thundering,
louder than before.
We chomp a couple bacon
strips, and feel them settle on our hips,
And think, what the hell,
let’s have some more! (Mae Scanlan)
And last: The Empress’s
Invitation
(To “Side by Side”)
Oh, we ain’t got a barrel of
money,
Even for jokes that are
funny,
But we’ll send you a shirt;
Send us your dirt;
Snide! Be snide! (Beverley
Sharp)
Next week’s results: Limerixicon IX, or, more
succinctly, LimerIXicon