Week 738: So What's to Liken?

Not even a vat of minty-fresh Retsin
Could freshen the mouth you insert cigarettes in. (Jay Shuck, Minneapolis)

Don't despair over diapers, guys: You'll be amazed
How, by changing a few, any man'll get praised. (Chris Doyle)

"Get out of here, and don't come back!" her fuming father ranted;
Her ardent swain, despite the rain, took to the road de-panted. (Beverley Sharp)

I felt so nervous when I went onstage to start my act,
I unloaded all the contents of my duodenal tract. (Brendan Beary)

The D.C. life is really fun, with things to do aplenty.
High taxes are the penalty (complain to Mr. Fenty). (Beverley Sharp)

Divorce makes women rummage through the debris of their lives
And wonder why they took the step to change from brides to wives. (Ross Elliffe, Picton, New Zealand, where they pronounce it DEB-ry.)

Iran has not a single day
Of rain or clouds, nor any gay. -- M. Ahmadinejad (Chris Doyle, sent from Siem Reap, Cambodia)

How sparse is one between the ears
Who parses dirt on Britney Spears? (Chris Doyle)

I am daily repaid by my loving child
By a diaper in which his poop is piled. (Kelly Esposito, Frederick)

She kissed him in earnest, she called him her dearest.
But the fact of the matter was he was the nearest. (Mae Scanlan)

New data may give George Bush renewed urges
To constantly tell us how dandy the surge is. (Deanna Busick, Knoxville, Tenn.)

You should really see your doctor; a prescription's of the essence
If gelatin approximates your genital tumescence. (Brendan Beary)

In Olympic doubles luge, the rumors aren't true:
Oh, no, they don't hold on like THAT! (But sometimes they use glue.) (Kevin Dopart, Washington)

As A-Rod and his slugger teammates fade into the night,
The gurgles of their sinking ship announce Joe Torre's flight. (Bill Spencer, Baltimore)

The negligeed lady was hurt when ignored
And the young men redoing her kitchen looked bored. (Christopher Lamora, Arlington)

A rogue plastic surgeon was jailed among felons,
Unlicensed, he changed women's lemons to melons. (Howard Walderman, Columbia)

And Last:
Dear Empress: Read this verse, don't yap!
You pay me zip, I serve you crap. (Chris Doyle)

Next Week: Look Back in Inker, or A Trip Down Memory Lame