Week 513: It's Delete We Can Do


Want to get an advanced degrie?

See grandmas in the altogether!

We know a gerbil with a secret crush on YOU!

This week's contest was proposed by Jean Sorensen of Herndon. Your job is to come up with very bad subject lines for spam e-mail -- lines that will guarantee instant deletion, sight unseen. First prize winner gets a fabulous prize: a necktie promoting knowledge of colorectal cancer! It is a nice blue, and features hundreds of little representations of the human colon and rectum. Other runners-up win the coveted Style Invitational Loser T-shirt. Honorable mentions get the mildly sought-after Style Invitational bumper sticker.

Send your entries via fax to 202-334-4312 or by e-mail to losers@washpost.com. U.S. mail entries are no longer accepted. Deadline is Monday, July 14. All entries must include the week number of the contest and your name, postal address and telephone number. E-mail entries must include the week number in the subject field. Contests will be 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 will be published in four weeks. 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 contest is by Stephen Dudzik of Olney.

Report from Week 509, in which you were asked to write Hallmark Card rhymes for non-Hallmark occasions.

Fourth Runner-Up:

We feel your loss, it's surely no fun,
Worse than fire, or flood, or a gash when you're shaving,
But what's done is done, and cannot be undone --
You Ctrl-Alt-Deleted without saving.

(Elden Carnahan, Laurel)

Third Runner-Up:

Sorry the rats you bought, Stanley and Iris,
Gave you and your family the monkeypox virus,
I regret that unfortunate fever and rash,
But returns are for store credit only, no cash.

(Brendan Beary, Great Mills, Md.)

Second Runner-Up:

You wanted no truck so
You got something dumber,
You parked like a schmuck so
We booted your Hummer.

(Sugar Strawn and Jack Welsch, Alexandria)

First Runner-Up:

Snip, tuck, sew, tie, hips, butt, nose, eye.
Congratulations on your surgery.
Your face may be a small white lie,
But your body's flagrant perjury.

(Josh Tucker, Kensington)

And the winner of the thong panties and

T-shirt with the likeness of the former Iraqi minister of information:
Although you were never charged with a crime
We want to thank you for serving your time
For weeks, for months, for over a year
How could your freedom compete with our fear?
How could we doubt the Department of Justice
Saying "no need for evidence, you'll just have to trust us."
Until finally you walked out the door,
And though we've done nothing to apologize for
Please accept from us, a grateful nation,
Our thanks for your incarceration.

(Joe Cackler, Falls Church)

Honorable Mentions:

It's bad your misdeeds all precede you,
You're both jackass and hyena --
I've chased you round, all over town
Congrats on this subpoena.

(David Whitten, Annandale)

Although your crime
Was shocking and venal,
Here's hoping your sentence
Isn't too . . . penal.

(Dave Scott, Broadway, Va.)

All my best for accepting
Jesus as your savior.
Perhaps when He returns
You'll be out on good behavior.

(Michael Gips, Bethesda)

Life seldom is fair,
It sticks in our gizzards
To hear of your trade
To the Washington Wizards.

(Edward C. Nykwest, Reston)

Son, we're proud of you
As we kin be
That you done passed
Your GED.

(Russell Beland, Springfield)

Two hundred seventy-seven days
Plus fifty-four years
Would seem an odd age to praise
(But I am bold.)

Mankind can define its periods
In whatever way we wish
You've just reached two myriads,
(Twenty thousand days old!)

(Kenneth S. Gallant, Little Rock)

Though your copied copy
Made your editor sick,
We hope you will survive
And get real, quick.

(Bill Moulden, Frederick)

You won't miss a minute
Of the playoff.
There's always a bright side . . .
Happy layoff.

(Tara Kennedy, Silver Spring)

When I spew exclamations like "Sweet Holy Lord!"
You will have to excuse my vernacular.
What I'm trying to say in my own special way
Is "Congrats! The new boobs are spectacular!"

(Scott Campisi, Wake Village, Tex.)

A miracle like this
Bespeaks some real endurance,
I'm thrilled to hear you saved
Fifteen percent or more on car insurance.

(Ezra Deutsch-Feldman, Bethesda)

I had my doubts --
You aren't able,
But congrats on assembling
Your Ikea table.

(Jean Sorensen, Herndon)

I try to be subtle and gentle
But my subtlety always gets trumped
By the fact that you're totally mental,
So consider yourself gently dumped.

(Scott Campisi, Wake Village, Tex.)

No more mortgage, toil or strife,
No more trying to get ahead.
You've earned your respite from this life,
Congrats on finally being dead.

(Keith Thorne, Alexandria)

We ex-employees have taken to drinkin'
And it's only 'bout you that we (burp) talk.
So it's only of you we'll be sittin' round thinkin'
As we toast your upcoming perp walk.

(Jason R. Meyers, Charlottesville)

Of penis enlargement news
You'll soon be a fount.
Best wishes on the occasion
Of your new Hotmail account.

(Steve Denyszyn, Toronto)

Good news from the good Dr. Tweak, gynecology,
Your pap smear reveals a quite normal cytology,
But, oops, more results here, and lest we forget it,
It appears that you're pregnant, obese, and herpetic.

(Jan Verrey, Alexandria)

We just got cussed out by the hospital doc,
And we think that on us you're too hard,
Who knew that a flare-up of insulin shock
Could be caused by a real Hallmark card?

(Elden Carnahan, Laurel)

A thousand thank-yous can't convey
My gratitude and great surprise
I'm flattered that you would select
My article to plagiarize.

(Brendan Beary, Great Mills)

Your paranoia's cured!
You must feel brand new!
Please accept my best wishes.
Sincerely . . . guess who?

(Jennifer Hart, Arlington)