Sun 1 Jan 2012
2012
Posted by anaglyph under Competition!, Cow Matters, In The News, Poetry, Rasputin, True Fiction, Words
[97] Comments
Ah, Acowlytes, Cowmrades and Cowpokes all! Welcome to the passing of another year on Tetherd Cow Ahead. It really doesn’t seem like a whole year since the last Rasputin Competition, does it? That’s because it wasn’t! Haha. I was just testing you – as you will recall, last year’s comp ran a little bit late, owing to me being snowbound (and workbound) in the good ol’ US of A (and that doesn’t seem like a whole year ago either, I have to say). But this year, the pageant is right on time. I thought I’d better make sure it was, because as you all know, the world ends in 2012 ((True, it did ‘end’ several times last year as well and we’re still all here, but this time it’s for real! How could the Mayans – a primitive and superstitious culture that tore out people’s hearts for fun – possibly be wrong?)) and that could be anytime from today onward. ((The Mayans themselves didn’t actually predict the world would end in 2012, in case you didn’t know that. To them, it was an unimaginably distant future time, and the truth is that their calendar, like all calendars, had to end sometime.))
This year, we hark back to the origins of the Competition somewhat, so I suggest that a little refresher might be in order. I recommend it to newcomers at least. In fact, I suggest that newbies and old hands alike might like to go back and peruse previous years to get some idea of the playing field. Here, and here were pretty good years I seem to remember…
The rules, as always, can be found here.
OK, well the only thing that remains now is for me to wish you all a very Happy New Year. As I’ve said on many occasions, the Cow is nothing if not the sum of its parts, and some of those important parts are indisputably all of you, my dear Acowlytes. I hope you will keep on visiting the Cow through 2012 and keep on making it the swell party it is.
Oh… I nearly forgot!
Let the Celebrity Penis Wars commence!
The Holy Father sat there with his mitre on his lap,
Inspired by the thought of God in Heaven.
Rasputin sat there likewise and, inspired by Spinal Tap,
Took his Ten Gallon Hat up to eleven.
Happy New Year, Reverend, to you and yours — and to all!
Thanks Joey. And congratulations for being first outta the gate!
Communications from Atlas this morning indicate that he is suffering from something of a ‘blinking orange light’ problem, so may be a little slow off the mark.
PS – no whisky this year. It’s been a little warm here over the last few days, so I think later on I’ll be breaking out the rum drinks…
Elijah Craig 12yo bourbon & Coke for me — shades of the 2008 event, when I was BOMBED on Wild Turkey & cola more or less throughout.
I’ll get onto the tippling in about 10 hours or so… little early here, just yet.
Too early for me was, like, when I was 16 or so.
:)
Would standards of measurement teeter
With loss of the prototype meter?
Or would we make do
By just going to
St. Petersburg’s old Russian beater?
‘Some advice, my son, before I die.’
Said Jong Il to Jong Un
‘Don’t make disputes about the guy
Who’s got the biggest gun.’
The Leaks show that our Tom’s ‘cruise missile’
Quite rightly earned Nicole’s dismissal
And despite Katie’s claim
That he’s true with his aim
His payload is plainly not fissile.
Were Rasputin alive today
And on the silver screen
Ron Jeremy would sulk and say
‘It’s polypropylene!’
North Korea, frustrated by penis-size, used force,
Sending up a missile — the Nodong (but of course).
Hahaha!
Rasputin stood
In Hollywood,
Prepared to meet his betters.
But when compared,
The sign was spared
Its last four fucking letters.
Rasputin pulled his coat’s lapel
Up closer to his chin,
Hoping that’d help to keep
His fuckin’ penis in.
I’m glad you noticed. It’s pretty hard to find new photos of the guy.
Nice find, that one. That was a new one for me.
Brandishing her crystal ball,
Veronica coyly
Let somebody snap the pic
Appearing on Page Three.
Dang, I thought I was going to get a picture.
Amongst the glitterati
Rasputin found it hard
To hold his top dick claim
He had to keep en guarde.
Beating out those famous wangs
his nerves were all but charred.
Poor Raspy blinked, and lost the day
hoist by George Peppard.
Hahaha! Excellent. That’s what I’m looking for!
I expected gooeyduck.
You know, it’s almost impossible to tell a fake Malach from a real one.
Said the customs man ‘Hey – what the fuck!
Mr Gibson you’re pushing your luck!
It’s clear on my screens
That the thing in your jeans
Is nought but a damn geoduck!’
Pitka recalled the year that
Rasputin was snatched by a brat.
After so many years
The Monk reappears
Right there! Beneath the Pope’s hat!
Happy New Year, Rev. Best Wishes to you, Violet T., and to the girls.
Thanks! Good to see that they fixed the blinking orange light.
[img]https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-21zB0LCkJ9I/TwC7NIqpGHI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/NLtDjBB08ks/s260/popehat.gif[/img]
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
I always wondered about the big hat.
GeNIuS
The pope doffed his hat
Exhibiting that
He had a strange style to his hair.
It looked like a jar
And, still more bizarre,
There seemed a big dickhead in there.
But if we’re to believe that he was quite chummy with the German gang that’s more likely to be Mr. Hitler’s whitler under his hat.
(But it is very умный )
Pitka and his partner went to Hollywood to see
Whether what was leaked was on the mark and error-free.
On their way, the partner found a bloody kukri knife,
Then a trunkless elephant, departed from this life.
—
“Someone,” Pitka’s partner said, “Has hatched the faulty plan
To place the trunk inside his pants and seem the biggest man.
You’d have to beat Rasputin to receive so high a credit.”
Pitka then produced the trunk and said, “You’re right. Forget it.”
I’m gonna hunt an elephant
Provided I can find it
And not become distracted by
The Rorschach test behind it.
Rasputin on the Bismarck
Wearing naught but a pea coat
His body’s long since buried
But his junk remains afloat.
A photo of Rasputin,
Mysterious and scary,
Should I click to embiggen?
It seems unnecessary.
Rasputin had tried out to be
A porno star, but in 3-D.
But everyone who
Had seen his debut
Came out with an eye injury.
Haha.
Rasputin did sow his wild oats
And Tin Tin was quite fond of boats
But this new data plot
Shows that these two have got
More in common than similar coats
“Tintin,” wrote brilliant Sir Joey,
“Came out with his little dog, Snowy.
He later released
A much larger beast
Whose name (just a guess) must be Showy.”
A woman had quite an extreme
Straightforwardly sexual dream
Involving Rasputin
And then — sure as shootin’ —
She woke with a true Wilhelm Scream.
The Guardian is good at exposing
Things others aren’t fond of disclosing
But the ultimate hack
Happened quite some years back –
Now it’s jarred to prevent decomposing
I want to spend New Year’s with you
By drinking an icy cold brew.
Additionally
In case you’re hungry
I’ve cooked up some flat chicken, too.
Hunting an elephant’s fun
But I don’t use a Kukri or gun.
I clobber them dead
With Rasputin instead
Like that one scene in 2001.
Pitka and his partner were at last released from work.
Even on the holidays, they wouldn’t think to shirk.
They’re the most devoted men in every kind of weather.
Thus, on this cold winter’s night, the two went home together.
Hey! What are you implying?
Old Bedknobs and Broomsticks,
It’s time for a reboot.
With the mad old monk in the starring role,
It’s the pride of Holy Wood.
The King
Old Rupert sat upon his throne as the lawsuits sadly mounted.
“How can I blame my kith and kin?” He mused as he dismounted.
Then all of a rush, it came as he flushed, the solution to all his ills.
“I’ll blame that witless, and clearly dick-less son of Kim Jong Il.”
The King
Yes, nothing works quite so well as “Look over there! A bunny!”
Love it!
Digging even more
Inside this new report,
Rasputin wiped the floor
With little Martin Short.
Reading further down
In what Assange just gave us,
Rasputin lost his crown
To Mr. Miles Davis.
Rasputin’s dick looked down, and then let out a sigh.
“Why was I not born with any more than just one eye?”
Assange is wanted in Sweden
For exploring his sexual freedom.
He said to the cop:
“Look, they didn’t say stop,
Cause I stole Rassy’s penis for the evening.â€
I’ll allow the shocking rhyming ‘cos it’s funny.
Tee Hee Thank you Rev. xxx
Happy New Year, Sir Joey and Atlas.
Joey already has his knighthood, so I’m pleased to announce that Atlas Cerise has just been awarded the same honour in the New Year’s List 2012.
Arise, Sir Atlas.
Sigh.
NOW see what you’ve done Queen Willy.
Hooray! It’s a Major Award!
I’m honored to earn this reward.
Since I’m now a knight
I think that I might
Go show some young maidens my sword.
Congratulations, my brother knight!
Let’s go storm something!
Dear Mrs Queen…please do not give them OMs.For obvious reasons.Thankyou.)
We are amused!
The King
The bright young knight, with his polished sword,
Rode off into the dawn.
Later that night, in the bedchamber bored,
A sad young maiden did yawn…
The King
I want a Shieldmaiden of Rohanjob to show me her tang.
As do we all my friend!
Sir Atlas was filled to the brim
With tales of conquests times three
I used to be an adventurer like him
Till I took an arrow in the knee
If I could play Skyrim
I’d be a dark elf
But it costs sixty dollars
I’ll just play with myself.
(*snicker*)
To bunk with a monk,
When at new years most drunk,
Was an error that many would fear.
The fool maiden awoke,
With a heave and a boak,
And an unfortunate pain in her rear.
HAHA!
Late player, but good effort!!
Thus was Atlas knighted,
Applauded too in rhyme.
Rasputin then felt slighted,
Saying, “This should be MY time!
I put the wood in Hollywood
And, so the rumor goes,
I even put the mistlehood
Into the mistletoe.”
Rasputin and Atlas and Joe,
Quite snockered, then burst into song.
A-stroking themselves down below,
They harmonized on “All Knights Long”.
That seems like a pretty good summing up to me! I call this year’s contest closed. Certainly not as big a turnout as yesteryear, but good quality poemin’ one and all.
Happy New Year!
Thanks for the blastski … again!
We’ll get to work on the 2013 honours list then.
Good one Atlas, and all involved.
The King
And what would a Rasputin event be without a little postmortem after it’s doneski?
The gameboard this year was rather challenging, I think — as indicated, perhaps, by the lower number of entries and the frequency of long periods of “silence” while the game was afoot. Indeed, it was reminiscent of the one from two years ago, which seemed to leave some thinking the play left a little to be desired.
I, of course, found each of the 7 events (including the first two non-sanctioned ones) to be fun. I don’t mind a tough gameboard, and can appreciate the principle about quality over quantity. It’s a different dynamic, a different energy; but it’s as much fun having a “problem to solve” as it is having a fat pitch lobbed right over the middle of the plate. It’s just a different kind of fun, and it yields a different kind of result.
I suggested in last year’s postmortem that the crafting of the gameboard is a job that I’d never want to have to do myself. It’d take the fun out of trying to find the funny if I had already sculpted the terrain on which the search is to be conducted. And so HATS OFF once again to the Reverend, for his creativity and craftsmanship in giving us another good game to play.
Something did seem to dawn on me as the latest game was going on, and it sorta kinda started dawning on me two years ago (which, I suppose, is why I can’t help but associate those two years’ events in my head). I think what differentiates a game like this year’s from a game like last year’s (which was a ripping good year despite the paucity of players) is the degree to which the pickled dick itself has a starring role on the gameboard. There are lot’s of jokes to be made about Rasputin’s weenie; but perhaps the most fruitful joke has to do with the fact that it’s supposed to have been cut off and preserved as a museum-piece in a humongous jar. That it should get stolen (2008) or cloned (2009) or end up being discovered on the moon (2011) is sure to feel like that slow pitch just begging to be smacked outta the ballpark. Or maybe there’s just something inspiring about a geoduck.
It might also be interesting to look at the percentage of poemskis, year by year, that actually had nothing to do with Rasputin. I didn’t go back and look at all previous contests in this connection, but I did get the sense (perhaps erroneous) that this year saw an especially high number of entries that did not in any way relate to the big R. Of course, there’s nothing improper or upsetting in this. Other aspects of the post are always fair game, and need not be invoked only in some connection with Rasputin. And often a good bit of the fun, as well as a good bit of the humor, emerges out of the kind of poetic banter that can sometimes take place in the midst of a contest, and this may not in any way attempt any sort of Rasputin joke — as happened this year in response to the introduction of Sir Atlas Cerise. Indeed, I think some of the especially well-liked poemskis from years past fall into this category. But it is an interesting thing (if my sense of things is correct, that is), especially in light of the suggestion made in the previous paragraphski.
I couldn’t help but notice, Reverend, that although you made a point of alerting the Twitterati of the contest while the “Pencils Ready” post was up, you did not seem to alert ’em while the game was ongoing. I can’t help but wonder whether we might not have seen more first-timers if you had Tweeted the event while it was live. I also can’t help but wonder whether you’d explicitly decided not to Tweet it. Of course, all of that is your business.
I will add that we over at Atlanski celebrate this holiday and its signature event enthusiastically, and made a point of alerting our readers of the whole thing. Of course, our readers are currently zero and no longer counting.
In closing, thanks to all who played. Happy New Year to ya allski!
One of the problems with setting up the Contest is just how to involve Rasputin’s wang without every year being purely about that. What I was trying to do this year was to get a more varied field, and we did see some of what I was after, particularly #11 from Cissy Strutt and #19 & #20a & #21 from Joey.
The thing is, I don’t want to dictate the stream of the Competition because half of the fun is seeing what unfolds, and indeed , we did get some great stuff that was surely completely ‘off topic’ as it were.
I also have to restrain myself from pushing everyone down the path that I thought things might take – namely in this case, outrage at the hacking of a fictional ‘penis size’ database, and lots of celebrities being compared to, or comparing themselves to, the legendary Rasputin.
I got the feeling also that everyone was somewhat distracted this year – there was none of the feeling of being ‘glued to the keyboard’ that we have seen in some previous competitions. For my own part, I was here for nearly all of it this year, unlike most years when I have to pay fleeting attention owing to family commitments.
Be that as it may, it was fun, and the challenge is on for me for next year to make it an easy lob, perhaps. Let’s see how that goes.
Thanks all for playing, and stay tuned for some terrific wackiness as we head into the last year of human existence.
I like your approach, Rev. Surely, it’d be impossible to undertake the task of constructing the gameboard without forming some expectations and / or desires about the ways in which the gag will be developed; but I think you’re 100% correct that a good deal of the fun lay in seeing what actually does emerge.
One of the things I’ve noticed, not just this year but at least the last four, is that there really does seem to be an element of warming up before things really start crackling. In each of those years, I can recall feeling like the game was fun from the outset, and some fairly humorous entries were among the early ones, but that it all felt somehow “not as good as the previous year”; but as the game continued, the energy increased, the creative juices began flowing, and things really started to get fun.
I too got the sense that folks were not perpetually “locked in” as they seemed to be in past years, and I admit that I actually wasn’t locked in as usual. Part of the reason for that was not my doing, but part of it was because it seemed early on that it was just you & me playing, Rev. I wanted to see if others would join in, and to see if others’ entries might inspire a follow-up gag.
We did have seven participants this year — almost 2x what we had last year. That’s a plus.
Oh, yeah …
So it was RUM this year, was it?
My first major experience with “the hard stuff” was with rum & coke. As mainly a beer drinker at the time, I really didn’t know HOW to drink and, as you might well guess, my rum & coke adventure did NOT end well. I have never been able to stomach the stuff since.
I’d never make a good pirate, I guess.
Rum or gin are my preferred hot weather drinks. And it’s been really hot here the last four or five days. Apparently South Australia (which is the direction from where all our whether comes down here) has been experiencing ‘air scorch’ temperatures – ie, the air itself is so hot that it effects crops and animals left out. That’s pretty damn frightening. And because this then creates a bushfire hazard, the government has been prophylactically shutting off the power lines to some areas to avoid flash ignition problems. This has the knock-on effect of depriving some towns of electricity which of course means no refrigeration or aircon. I sincerely hope this is not a taste of things to come, and I sincerely fear that it is.
Rum drinks, of course, are not nearly so palatable in hot weather if you can’t load ’em up with lots of ice. I discovered my preferred hot weather rum drink in New Orleans, and it is the Hurricane, which uses three types of rum, passionfruit cordial and lime.
Yes, I rather like gin. But it’s the one spirit that I don’t drink neat. And whatever the mixer, it’s best with lots of ice.
Wow. I never heard of “air scorch temperatures.” Is that simply a matter of the temperature, or is it also a function of how little moisture there is in the air? We’ve had some pretty hot summer days where I am, but I’ve never heard mention of the dangers you associated with “air scorch.” That’s gotta be brutal!
I’d never heard of air scorch until this morning either. And you’re right – it is apparently temperature combined with ultra dry desert air. Thankfully a storm is forecast for here later tonight…
So … any particular gins you’re especially fond of?
I like the one from LOST. Just when you think the bottle is a dead soldier, the stuff comes right back outta nowhere.
In a world possessed of such uncertainty and flux,
One thing that’s for certain is the end of LOST just sucks.
When Jin came back to life on LOST
They killed the story arc.
Or in the words of Fonzarelli:
“Aaaay, they jumped the shark.”
To be sensible for a moment (I know, I know), the gin we tend to prefer round the Cowyards for general purpose drinking is Bombay Sapphire. But my all-time preferred gin is Hendricks (lawks – now that’ll probably set Atlas off again). Unfortunately it’s a bit too expensive to be a standard tipple.
A good book about gin is ‘Mother’s Ruin: A History of Gin’ by John Watney. In it you learn, among other things, why gin is flavoured by juniper berries and not by aniseed (as it could easily have been).
Why would that set me off? I’ve never drank gin in my life.
I’ve enjoyed both Bombay Sapphire and Hendrick’s.
When I first discovered Hendrick’s it was considerably more expensive than, say, Bombay or Tanqueray or Beefeater. Happily, it’s come down to the same price as those others here where I am.
I’m presently drinking Beefeater, ‘cuz I’m all about gettin’ loaded and Hendrick’s is only 88 proof.
Ah, I know …
I shot it off early, so what can I say?
One may be in need of a nasally spray.
At least I can shoot (the Mad Monks was detached)
I wonder if it comes in some sort of a patch?
Now where were you when we needed you!
For what it’s worth, I think my favorite poemski from this year is King Willy’s #33.
It has nothing to do with Rasputin, but it’s funny and I think it’s rather well-crafted.
Too kind Sir Joey, too kind.
The King
You’re right, your majesty.
In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if I was bullshittin’.