Your tryout at the NY Post had to be just before Warren Hoge went to the Times and Murdoch bought the Post. Hoge probably did you a favor by not hiring you. Can't imagine you lasting very long in the new culture --- by choice or otherwise.
We had a cat who enjoyed any kind of alcohol, also orange and grapefruit juices (cats usually wrinkle their noses in distaste when they smell citrus). She mostly drank the alcohol from the end of a finger. I once gave her rather a lot of Scotch and she had a hangover the next day and wouldn't touch it after that. But she loved gin, sherry, port etc. etc. Beer and champagne were OK but the bubbles got up her nose and made her sneeze.
"The Spelling Bee game doesn't accept words that the Times deems to be obscure or offensive, such as "bimbo." However, one of today's (8/23) accepted answers was "fellate." So apparently the Times won't give the job title, but will allow one of the duties."
I like bowties, but I have trouble getting them long enough to fit my neck, which is relatively thick. If they could fit a 17.5-inch neck (or greater) then I would be happy to take several! Many, even! But not 90.
Certainly comments about the failings of the Bronx Bozos (aka the Evil Empire) are always welcome. But it strikes me that the present lack of interest in the game by the Yankees points to a greater concern. Elsewhere, interest --- and importantly, among the young --- has ticked up with the recent changes to pro ball. Btw, it's time to add a batter's clock to go with the pitch clock or, a quota (like pick-off attempts) for the number of times you're allowed to step out of the batter's box to adjust yourself.
Anyway, about that interest among the young. Watching baseball may have ticked up, but playing continues to trend downward. Overbearing parents. Imperious coaches. Pace of play compared to basketball, lacrosse or cornhole. All conspire to take the fun out of the game and turn kids to other pursuits. I think the Brits have the right idea. Keep it simple. Sure, there's a wide variety of organized leagues and big money football (soccer) and cricket. But there's also shin-kicking and gurning (and need I mention, cheese rolling) with participation open to anyone with shins and a face.
After a three year hiatus, the Gurning World Championships return to England's Lake District next month. The competitions to see which man, woman and child can pull the most grotesque face while wearing a horse collar have been held (with the exception of the three year break) since the 13th century. The rules of the time-honored sport of shin-kicking are also straightforward. Participants don shepherds’ smocks, hold each other by the shoulders, and take turns uh...kicking their opponent’s shin. The contest is won when one competitor cries “sufficient !” Make a face and kick the shin out of someone, what's easier and more appealing I ask you ?
"Btw, it's time to add a batter's clock to go with the pitch clock or, a quota (like pick-off attempts) for the number of times you're allowed to step out of the batter's box to adjust yourself."
According to ESPN, as of the start of the 2023 season, "Hitters need to be in the batter's box with eight seconds on the pitch clock."
That's true. But, a batter can still step out of the box in between pitches. With a long at-bat (several foul-offs, for example) and with a runner on base (when the clock is set to 20 seconds) that could add up. A batter does, however, only get one actual time out, when the pitch clock can be reset.
Carbon Block or Bloody Mess? We seem to have a population that loves a "reductio ad absurdum." There are other options, and the challenge is to find someone who can do a steak that gets to 165 degrees and is good - tasty, tender and not black. And personally, I do like some garnishes.
Is it me, or were there fewer participants in this weeks Invitational than in previous weeks? I noticed a few names with four or five ink blots this week. Not a criticism, just a concern that we may be losing viewer involvement.
There weren't fewer entrants than in previous weeks (well, somewhat fewer than last week's neologism contest, but not close to our lowest Substack numbers ever). The thing is that limericks that meet our strict standards for rhyme and meter -- not to mention clarity, humor, and something that has SOME logic -- are really, really hard for most people to write. It's a craft.
When I'm judging the entries, I don't know who wrote them; I only look them up at the end. There's nothing more exciting to me than to discover that some perfect and hilarious limerick is by a brand-new person -- or isn't yet one more excellent piece of work by one of the Usual Loserbards. But I'm not surprised that the very best of the list tend to be from a relatively few people who sent me not just one or two inkworthy entries, but eight or twelve or twenty-five of them -- these are amazing writers. These people most likely didn't even send in their lesser work.
On the other hand, I read a LOT of alleged limericks that just didn't follow the requirements: They didn't have a strong "hickory-dickory-dock" rhythm somewhere in Lines 1, 2 and 5, plus "dickory-dock" in Lines 3 or 4. Example: ""Grasshopper Green is a horny fellow/
Loves the crickets, young and mellow."
Or they didn't have "true rhyme": "There’s a House on a hill so crooked/ They say the inmates are wicked."
Or the "ho-" word was contrived just to have something: "There once was student named Howdy/ Who at heart was a definite rowdy." "Joey Chestnut ate hotdogs and buns/
So many, the whole world was stunned."
We knew that fewer people would be entering the Invite now than when occasional readers would be paging through their WP Style sections and notice a contest that would be fun to try. So of course now we have a much higher proportion of people for whom The Invitational is a major hobby, a competition against other Losers, and something they've had lots and lots of practice doing.
Gene's and my aim is to put out the funniest stuff we get every week so y'all can read them and laugh and appreciate their wit. I really, really don't think you'd like it if we refused to run the best material so that we could have more names credited.
The contest that inspired the Invite, the New York Magazine Competition (d. 2000), went for the latter look -- it had a limit of one entry per person. However, its editor surely knew that some of its best people simply used lots of different names. Our own top Loser, Chris Doyle, who started entering the Invite in earnest after the NYM contest folded, had more than 2,000 blots of NYM ink -- under hundreds of names.
We don't want to lie. So enjoy Chris's five limericks today, under his own name. He is a master. Same goes for the other masters.
If you can keep up with a four year old at fifty-three, you’ll be fine when the kiddo is sixteen. At that time you’ll be the age I am now and I can do that ride.
The comment that failing to admit having farted was anathema not just to honesty, but also to “good journalism” adds a new dimension to the phrase “breaking news”.
For the reader who commented, "Your views on steak are disgusting. I enjoy steak that is charred beyond recognition as being made of actual protein, and I resent any implication that this makes me a Phallustine."
It's a well-known fact in the nutritional-science community that unless and until a steak is charred beyond recognition, it is comprised entirely of high-fructose corn syrup.
I don’t think that Pete Best made that big career choice. I am no drumming expert, but from what I have read about the Beatles (which is a whole, whole, whole, whole, lot) the others made a good choice. I did however meet Pete’s brother Rory when he toured us through Casbah and he was a lovely fellow.
The responses from lovers of well done meat are what I expected.
I've given up on ever serving meat again for guests who I don't know well. Some people have been trained to think that any hint of pink color, or any juices tinged with color, is blood (it's not), and is unsafe to eat (definitely unrelated). They are turned off by the sight of it.
"Look at those fools, eating bloody, unsafe meat," the well-done diner thinks smugly to himself, opening his dining toolkit to retrieve his hacksaw and vise clamp. With the clamp firmly in place, he begins sawing at the carbon brick. "Yep, everyone's stupid but me."
Your tryout at the NY Post had to be just before Warren Hoge went to the Times and Murdoch bought the Post. Hoge probably did you a favor by not hiring you. Can't imagine you lasting very long in the new culture --- by choice or otherwise.
We had a cat who enjoyed any kind of alcohol, also orange and grapefruit juices (cats usually wrinkle their noses in distaste when they smell citrus). She mostly drank the alcohol from the end of a finger. I once gave her rather a lot of Scotch and she had a hangover the next day and wouldn't touch it after that. But she loved gin, sherry, port etc. etc. Beer and champagne were OK but the bubbles got up her nose and made her sneeze.
I want those earrings. Sigh. I’ll enter.
And my sister’s birthday is Oct. 2. She’s incomparable, believe you me.
J. Fred Muggshot
https://tinyurl.com/Muggshot
"The Spelling Bee game doesn't accept words that the Times deems to be obscure or offensive, such as "bimbo." However, one of today's (8/23) accepted answers was "fellate." So apparently the Times won't give the job title, but will allow one of the duties."
wow. hope i never meet this asshole.What a jerk.
I like bowties, but I have trouble getting them long enough to fit my neck, which is relatively thick. If they could fit a 17.5-inch neck (or greater) then I would be happy to take several! Many, even! But not 90.
Certainly comments about the failings of the Bronx Bozos (aka the Evil Empire) are always welcome. But it strikes me that the present lack of interest in the game by the Yankees points to a greater concern. Elsewhere, interest --- and importantly, among the young --- has ticked up with the recent changes to pro ball. Btw, it's time to add a batter's clock to go with the pitch clock or, a quota (like pick-off attempts) for the number of times you're allowed to step out of the batter's box to adjust yourself.
Anyway, about that interest among the young. Watching baseball may have ticked up, but playing continues to trend downward. Overbearing parents. Imperious coaches. Pace of play compared to basketball, lacrosse or cornhole. All conspire to take the fun out of the game and turn kids to other pursuits. I think the Brits have the right idea. Keep it simple. Sure, there's a wide variety of organized leagues and big money football (soccer) and cricket. But there's also shin-kicking and gurning (and need I mention, cheese rolling) with participation open to anyone with shins and a face.
After a three year hiatus, the Gurning World Championships return to England's Lake District next month. The competitions to see which man, woman and child can pull the most grotesque face while wearing a horse collar have been held (with the exception of the three year break) since the 13th century. The rules of the time-honored sport of shin-kicking are also straightforward. Participants don shepherds’ smocks, hold each other by the shoulders, and take turns uh...kicking their opponent’s shin. The contest is won when one competitor cries “sufficient !” Make a face and kick the shin out of someone, what's easier and more appealing I ask you ?
"Btw, it's time to add a batter's clock to go with the pitch clock or, a quota (like pick-off attempts) for the number of times you're allowed to step out of the batter's box to adjust yourself."
According to ESPN, as of the start of the 2023 season, "Hitters need to be in the batter's box with eight seconds on the pitch clock."
That's true. But, a batter can still step out of the box in between pitches. With a long at-bat (several foul-offs, for example) and with a runner on base (when the clock is set to 20 seconds) that could add up. A batter does, however, only get one actual time out, when the pitch clock can be reset.
Carbon Block or Bloody Mess? We seem to have a population that loves a "reductio ad absurdum." There are other options, and the challenge is to find someone who can do a steak that gets to 165 degrees and is good - tasty, tender and not black. And personally, I do like some garnishes.
"I can't picture DJT using the side of his toothbrush to smoosh the last bit from the tube."
Never mind squeezing his own toothpaste—I can't picture DJT brushing his own teeth.
To the author of the question about bow ties:
I might be interested, though I seldom get out anymore.
Is it me, or were there fewer participants in this weeks Invitational than in previous weeks? I noticed a few names with four or five ink blots this week. Not a criticism, just a concern that we may be losing viewer involvement.
Still funny, though.
There weren't fewer entrants than in previous weeks (well, somewhat fewer than last week's neologism contest, but not close to our lowest Substack numbers ever). The thing is that limericks that meet our strict standards for rhyme and meter -- not to mention clarity, humor, and something that has SOME logic -- are really, really hard for most people to write. It's a craft.
When I'm judging the entries, I don't know who wrote them; I only look them up at the end. There's nothing more exciting to me than to discover that some perfect and hilarious limerick is by a brand-new person -- or isn't yet one more excellent piece of work by one of the Usual Loserbards. But I'm not surprised that the very best of the list tend to be from a relatively few people who sent me not just one or two inkworthy entries, but eight or twelve or twenty-five of them -- these are amazing writers. These people most likely didn't even send in their lesser work.
On the other hand, I read a LOT of alleged limericks that just didn't follow the requirements: They didn't have a strong "hickory-dickory-dock" rhythm somewhere in Lines 1, 2 and 5, plus "dickory-dock" in Lines 3 or 4. Example: ""Grasshopper Green is a horny fellow/
Loves the crickets, young and mellow."
Or they didn't have "true rhyme": "There’s a House on a hill so crooked/ They say the inmates are wicked."
Or the "ho-" word was contrived just to have something: "There once was student named Howdy/ Who at heart was a definite rowdy." "Joey Chestnut ate hotdogs and buns/
So many, the whole world was stunned."
We knew that fewer people would be entering the Invite now than when occasional readers would be paging through their WP Style sections and notice a contest that would be fun to try. So of course now we have a much higher proportion of people for whom The Invitational is a major hobby, a competition against other Losers, and something they've had lots and lots of practice doing.
Gene's and my aim is to put out the funniest stuff we get every week so y'all can read them and laugh and appreciate their wit. I really, really don't think you'd like it if we refused to run the best material so that we could have more names credited.
The contest that inspired the Invite, the New York Magazine Competition (d. 2000), went for the latter look -- it had a limit of one entry per person. However, its editor surely knew that some of its best people simply used lots of different names. Our own top Loser, Chris Doyle, who started entering the Invite in earnest after the NYM contest folded, had more than 2,000 blots of NYM ink -- under hundreds of names.
We don't want to lie. So enjoy Chris's five limericks today, under his own name. He is a master. Same goes for the other masters.
I entered. I'm beginning to wonder if my entries go through.
Just checked -- they did. In fact, a couple of your limericks made my shortlist.
Excellent. Thanks for checking. I only recently noticed that Google Forms defaults to another of my e-mail addresses.
Limericks require a special kind of talent that is not equally distributed among all Invitational participants.
I didn’t enter this one. By my own admission, that probably wouldn’t have changed the results one bit.
I know I don't have it. Although to be honest, I lack pretty much any Invitational talent at all.
If you can keep up with a four year old at fifty-three, you’ll be fine when the kiddo is sixteen. At that time you’ll be the age I am now and I can do that ride.
The comment that failing to admit having farted was anathema not just to honesty, but also to “good journalism” adds a new dimension to the phrase “breaking news”.
For the reader who commented, "Your views on steak are disgusting. I enjoy steak that is charred beyond recognition as being made of actual protein, and I resent any implication that this makes me a Phallustine."
That's what the British call a stiff upper lip.
It's a well-known fact in the nutritional-science community that unless and until a steak is charred beyond recognition, it is comprised entirely of high-fructose corn syrup.
*composed*
I don’t think that Pete Best made that big career choice. I am no drumming expert, but from what I have read about the Beatles (which is a whole, whole, whole, whole, lot) the others made a good choice. I did however meet Pete’s brother Rory when he toured us through Casbah and he was a lovely fellow.
I don't think the Empress exactly made that career choice either.
Interesting that you share a birthday with him. I'll one-up you. I share a birthday (but not the year) with Ringo Starr.
A life devoted to the pursuit of dangling modifiers is never ill-advised.
The responses from lovers of well done meat are what I expected.
I've given up on ever serving meat again for guests who I don't know well. Some people have been trained to think that any hint of pink color, or any juices tinged with color, is blood (it's not), and is unsafe to eat (definitely unrelated). They are turned off by the sight of it.
"Look at those fools, eating bloody, unsafe meat," the well-done diner thinks smugly to himself, opening his dining toolkit to retrieve his hacksaw and vise clamp. With the clamp firmly in place, he begins sawing at the carbon brick. "Yep, everyone's stupid but me."
If you prefer the briquet to the beef, may I suggest exploring vegetarianism.
I blame their parents