Hard Fought: The Winner of the Mean Mr. Mustache Lyrics Contest

Numerous runners-up trail two runaway leaders in a photo finish in the Beatles-themed Thomas Friedman contest. Who won the Rollie Fingers jersey.

Wow. There are far more witty writers and poets lurking in this site’s readership than I suspected. The entries in last week’s “Write the best lyrics for a Thomas-Friedman-themed spoof of ‘Mean Mr. Mustard’” contest were numerous and inspired. Recapping:

The Runners-Up

The idea of the contest was to rewrite the lyrics of the Beatles song “Mean Mr. Mustard” to create a Friedman-themed “Mean Mr. Mustache.” A few complaints came in suggesting the contest itself didn’t quite scan — “Mustard and Mustache” apparently don’t have exactly matching rhythm to some — but the syllable count seemed close enough according to my Weird Al style guide, so it was game on. Many of the entries were contenders on a few lines alone, and to those writers we’re sending “Got Stache?” t-shirts. I detect a possible newspaper background for Mary K.H., who wrote:

Recycles columns of old,

Leans on the soul that he sold.

Everything goes under the fold

Meanwhile, David L. out-lexiconned your author, rhyming two words I’ve never used in “visqueen” and “rapine”:

He rolls them up in see-through visqueen

And cooks them in his frying machine

So he can use them for his latest rapine

Ben R.W. got to a rhyme by spelling out the letters of a word, creating a Fabolous-meets-Wu-Tang-meets-Beatles-meets-Friedman effect:

Tryin to export democracy

‘Specially to the Middle East

Even if people D-I-E

Doug R. went hard to the paint with Spews nonsense with Mika and Joe/It’s Ok it fits with the show, while Michael R. worked in a joke about Bret Stephens and Friedman with Takes him in to scowl at Big Vlad/Only take that he’s ever had! Amy M. gets a t-shirt for Creeps up the assholes of toads; that could have rhymed with Jeremy W.’s Keeps a giant pole up his coach. Many others were deserving, but it came down to two in the end:

The Winner(s)

Two entries had me laughing out loud multiple times. One wasn’t even technically an entry, since I don’t believe “Dunboy2020” sent in his lyrics from the article comments. The flattery for Walter and me at the end was nice, but the eye-catcher was the rhyme of a Swiftian land, which may never have been done: “Mixed metaphors are his bag/Thinks we live in Brobdingnag/Gray lady is a rotten old hag.” I can’t give two autographed Rollie jerseys, but Dunboy can claim a “Da Bears” sweatshirt if he (she?) so chooses, by writing to Taibbi@substack.com.

In the end the Rollie award has to go to Christopher W., who had two laugh-out-loud triplets. The judging here may strike some as unfair since I never disclosed that I’m inclined to laugh at serial killer imagery. Also, I love the bold wrong-tense dismount:

Creeps out the girls in HR

Tries to get them into his car

Apologist is just what he are

I also liked this because you have to pronounce every little syllable in journalism, even the -m, to make the second line scan:

He thinks that he is nobody’s fool

Yellow journalism is cool

It paid for his house and his pool

Winners, please send your addresses to the same email. Thanks, everyone, that was fun.