[Roger Slater]

I received an honorable mention in the Washington Post Style Invitational contest seeking limericks defining words beginning with certain letters. The new contest also calls for verse, so I thought people here might have fun with it. Here it is.

In a nutshell, the assignment is to "Write a humorous poem — choose your form — about the Virginia earthquake, Hurricane Irene or another well-known natural event."

The deadline is September 12, so get cracking.

PS-- My HM limerick is online and in the paper, I think. I also had an "unprintable" that is only online, here. (Among the winners, you will also recognize Mae Scanlan and Ed Conti, among others. Also, two titans of magazine competitions, the American Bii & Bazza, are Chris Doyle and Brendan Beary, whose limericks are in a class of their own. Chris dominated the New York Magazine weekly comp for many years, and currently has over 5,000 limericks in the OEDILF).

[Chris O'Carroll]

"Fabulous!" he ejaculated. "Congratulations!"

[FOsen]

Neat - congratulations, Raj. I got on their email list, but haven't been able to get into the rhythm of this one yet.

Frank

[John Whitworth]

Thanks for that Frank. Does Global Warming (assuming that, like God, it exists) count as a disaster, do you think?

[Roger Slater]

It's hard to believe the Washington Post would print poems making humor out of Katrina or the Japanese Tusamie, so a delicate hand is probably called for. Global Warming sounds like a safe topic, John, since, though the entire planet may be wiped out because of it, no one has yet to say, "Hey, don't make fun! My parents died in Global Warming!"

[John Whitworth]

Isn't the entire planet going a bit strong? I thought that was what happened when the asteroid hit us. Except that we had Morgan Freeman for President, so it was all right.

Bloody cold here, mate. You just wouldn't believe. I saw a mammoth on the horizon, I swear. Though it could have been my mother-in-law in a fur coat.

[FOsen]

Thought this might be the appropriate place to mention that Bob Schechter, aka Roger, received an hon-mensh in the Washington Post's Style Invitational, in the contest for "Your Mama" jokes, with:

Your mama’s so ugly, she was thrown out of Congress for tweeting a picture of her face.

And was singled out in the blog for "the Scarlet Letter for one that’s really funny but just too tasteless for ink:"

Your mama’s so ugly, the maggots all chipped in to have her cremated.

I guess that rates as an honorary unmentionable.

Congratulations, Bob.

[John Whitworth]

That second one in particular is brilliant. Well done, Bob.

[Roger Slater]

Thanks, Frank and John. I had cremation on my mind after the Speccie "When I'm dead, cremate me" competition."

It's nice that the WP prints honorable mentions (and rewards them with trivial gag prizes), unlike the Speccie. But Frank overlooked that another of my entries finished in second place: Your mama's so ugly, the French made her wear a burqa. I also had an honorable mention that Frank overlooked: Your mama’s so stupid, they gave her a Rorschach test and she answered “ink blot” to every question.

At the WP, they say you "ink" when you get an entry in the paper, though for statistical purposes (they actually keep statistics) it's not "ink" if your entry is printed in the blog because it was too dirty or tasteless for the paper. I'm liking this contest because right away I've done something I could never manage in the Speccie, i.e., inking two weeks in a row.

I hope you guys are sending in disaster poems. I think you'd have a very good chance of inking, since apart from two brilliant limerick writers, their regulars don't seem to have many serious poets (though there are certainly a lot of clever people with good ears who can come up with funny stuff). And though it's not poetry, why not try the new contest on neolgoisms? It's described here.

[Edmund Conti]

I've sent in poems on Japan, tsumanis, global warming, the Texas drought, Irene, the hurricane of '38 (eye-witness), and the flood of 10,000 BC. I never got ink 3 weeks in a row so we shall see.