Week 738: So What's to Liken?

When a royal sheik hikes the price of crude,
The rest of us are royally scrude. (Peter Metrinko)

At every bordello I've been to (don't ask me what for),
There's nary a doorbell, but wow, they have knockers galore! (Brendan Beary)

Ann Coulter needs a strong reproach; her
Wacko rantings scream for cloture. (Chris Doyle)

Unless I cut my movie, they threaten to X-rate:
They say a certain extra seems to stand out much too straight. (Russell Beland, Springfield)

Your admirer charms you with topics so varied.
Too bad he won't mention that he's also married. (Anne Paris, Arlington)

If you rail against a liar,
Pray your own pants don't catch fire. (David Moss, Arlington)

What happens from taking the steroid called "clear":
You bring a sad end to a storied career. (Rob Caskey, Fairfax Station)

Gone are the sounds of young children's rattles:
The starlet has lost her custody battles. (Mike Cisneros, Centreville)

JFK strove (though to note this seems callous)
To attract the attention of voters in Dallas. (J.J. Gertler, Alexandria)

I wandered lonely as a cloud . . .
Could be because I'm gross and loud. (Jeff Brechlin, Eagan, Minn.)

Carelessness, calumnies, cursing at waits:
These are a few of my masculine traits . . . (Brendan Beary)

On a cruise around Hellenic ports I knew not how to feel
When I went below the deck and spied the captain in chenille. (Brendan Beary)