The Special Category

Anagrammy Awards > Voting Page - Special Category

An optional explanation about the anagram in green, the subject is in black, the anagram is in red.

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Lewis Carroll
ONE winter night, at half-past nine,
Cold, tired, and cross, and muddy,
I had come home, too late to dine,
And supper, with cigars and wine,
Was waiting in the study.
There was a strangeness in the room,
And Something white and wavy
Was standing near me in the gloom -
I took it for the carpet-broom
Left by that careless slavey.
But presently the Thing began
To shiver and to sneeze:
On which I said "Come, come, my man!
That's a most inconsiderat e plan.
Less noise there, if you please!"
"I've caught a cold," the Thing replies,
"Out there upon the landing."
I turned to look in some surprise,
And there, before my very eyes,
A little Ghost was standing!
He trembled when he caught my eye,
And got behind a chair.
"How came you here," I said, "and why?
I never saw a thing so shy.
Come out! Don't shiver there!"
He said "I'd gladly tell you how,
And also tell you why;
But" (here he gave a little bow)
"You're in so bad a temper now,
You'd think it all a lie.
"And as to being in a fright,
Allow me to remark
That Ghosts have just as good a right
In every way, to fear the light,
As Men to fear the dark."
"No plea," said I, "can well excuse
Such cowardice in you:
For Ghosts can visit when they choose,
Whereas we Humans ca'n't refuse
To grant the interview."
He said "A flutter of alarm
Is not unnatural, is it?
I really feared you meant some harm:
But, now I see that you are calm,
Let me explain my visit.
"Houses are classed, I beg to state,
According to the number
Of Ghosts that they accommodate:
(The Tenant merely counts as WEIGHT,
With Coals and other lumber).
"This is a 'one-ghost' house, and you
When you arrived last summer,
May have remarked a Spectre who
Was doing all that Ghosts can do
To welcome the new-comer.

Re: The Excruciating Tale Of Matthew McGee And The Sorry Psychic Occurrence
Les Miserable
My boozing buddy Matt McGee
Is not the finest wit,
The Irish farmer sure can be
A monumental twit.
He has no wife and drinks all
Night, cold Guinness in a jar,
While perching on his favourite stool,
Located by the bar.
Our local inn, The Royal Crown
Is held in real esteem
It serves the finest beer in town
And has a great darts team!
One wild March night a man came in,
A stranger to these parts,
He bought himself a Gilbey's gin,
And watched the guys play darts.
"'Tis said dis place is haunted, sir,"
Matt grinned at him then laughed,
"Why, even now oi see ye have a
Spirit in your glass!"
The stranger uttered to McGee:
"How weird you mentioned this!
My occupation is, you see,
A psychic specialist!
"Tomorrow I am speaking at
Your local civic hall,
On ghosts and eerie things like that,
You're welcome, guys, to call!"
Well, Matt and I, we went off on
His tractor the next day,
To see that man (his name was Ron),
Hear what he had to say.
"Has anybody seen a ghost?"
Ron asked us right away;
And twenty hands went up, that's almost
Half the hall, I'd say.
"Wow! what a lot of hands!" yelled he,
"That is a nice surprise!
But I've another thing to ask, be
Truthful, tell no lies.
"Has anyone here touched a ghost?"
Ron ventured, "hand on heart?"
Some more went up, well three at most,
(One was the village tart).
"Wowee!" said Ron, I'm stunned
To see you've touched a heavenly host!
Now tell me true, has anyone
Here made love to a ghost?"
Then from the back, one voice came strong,
"Yes me! Oi have!" Matt cried.
"You've made love to a ghost?" gasped Ron,
"Wow! ... no word of a lie?"
Matt mumbled, "Wait a minute sir,
Er... did ye say "a ghost?
Oi beg your pardon, oi misheard,
... Oi thought ye said 'a goat'!"

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by Banjo Paterson
"You led the trump," the old man said
With fury in his eye,
"And yet you hope my girl to wed!
Young man! your hopes of love are fled,
'Twere better she should die!
"My sweet young daughter sitting there,
So innocent and plump!
You don't suppose that she would care
To wed an outlawed man who'd dare
To lead the thirteenth trump!
"If you had drawn their leading spade
It meant a certain win!
But no! By Pembroke's mighty shade
The thirteenth trump you went and played
And let their diamonds in!
"My girl, return at my command
His presents in a lump!
Return his ring! For, understand,
No man is fit to hold your hand
Who leads a thirteenth trump!
"But hold! Give every man his due
And every dog his day.
Speak up and say what made you do
This dreadful thing -- that is, if you
Have anything to say!"
He spoke. "I meant at first," said he,
"To give their spades a bump,
Or lead the hearts; but then you see
I thought against us there might be,
Perhaps, a fourteenth trump!"
They buried him at dawn of day
Beside a ruined stump:
And there he sleeps the hours away
And waits for Gabriel to play
The last -- the fourteenth trump.

by the Headmaster of the Moneyed and the Authority on History
Dirty tiny shanty, no hot shower,
Life in that tatty dump.
With no utilities, no power.
Has no grand suite at Trump Tower.
Unless you're Donald Trump!
Hawaii and Mauritius are not
A hop, skip and a jump!
Forget the hideaway bay spot,
The drab ghetto is what you got.
Unless you're Donald Trump!
No syrupy dish from the East,
Eat no fruit ripe and plump.
No Wagyu beef, the greasy beast;
No healthy mead at the fine feast.
Unless you're Donald Trump!
The mind is numb, the thought is tired;
The mystery may stump.
Roadworthy daddy he had hired;
Stayed satisfied, midday he's fired.
Unless you're Donald Trump!
The bonehead didn't have the brain,
Vapid as Forrest Gump.
Was no war hero like McCain;
The triumph he'd never attain.
Unless you're Donald Trump!
Tattered beggar up to here in debt;
Huge economic slump!
Eightieth hit, defeated I bet;
Banking on the welfare he'll get.
Unless you're Donald Trump!
They're happiest when they wanna
Get the wealthiest hump.
Do not hug the great Miss Ghana;
Why even bed his private Ivana?
Unless you're Donald Trump!

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O say can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

(Bad Rug to Be Elected)
O say can we see, through the Don's pearly whites,
What so foully he wails, rich with greed that's unflagging?
Those brash statements appall; they go well to the Right,
With the wrong, snobby talk and perpetual bragging.
And the rotter's affairs, errors bursting on air,
Gave proof to the Left the guy isn't all there.
O say does that tsar's mangled sham-hair yet wave
O'er the brand that is he: e'er o'erblown and depraved?

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Dear Donald, I'm begging you: Run!
Join the "clown car" and add to the fun.
A debate with your mouth
Is sure to go south.
Is there anyone nuttier? None!

I find you're a showboat, just smug;
Note, not one idea; a moneyed thug!
Irritable -- no, RUDE!
And now to conclude...
Oh, is there anything under that rug?

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The Circle of Life
(from the Lion King Musical)
From the day we arrive on this planet
And blinking, step into the sun
There's more to see than can ever be seen
More to do than can ever be done
There is far too much to take in here
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high
Through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round
It's the circle of life
And it moves us all
Through despair and hope
Through faith and love
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the circle
The circle of life
It's the circle of life
And it moves us all
Through despair and hope
Through faith and love
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the circle
The circle of life

Cecil The Lion
Cecil the African lion, supposedly protected in his game park
Hunters lured him to his death with fresh meat
Walter Palmer, the dentist from Minnesota, the 'brave hunter',
He had perfect, ultra-bright teeth
Cecil the vulnerable lion
Killed by a puffed up dentist
With longbow and arrows
This 'valorous' vainglorious gaffe
Confronting, frightening
The marvellous lion,
Sentence offenders!
Hang the demon felons!
Fee-fie-fo-fuck him!
Cecil the lion
Roared in pain,
Pierced through
His heart
Cecil the African lion,
And skinned
Tourists liked
Cecil the lion,
People - save the lions,
Value them in future
Hold on
Never hunt
To the death
Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!

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In the jungle, the mighty jungle
The lion sleeps tonight
In the jungle, the quiet jungle
The lion sleeps tonight
Near the village, the peaceful village
The lion sleeps tonight
Near the village, the quiet village
the lion sleeps tonight
Hush my darling, don't fear my darling
The lion sleeps tonight
Hush my darling, don't fear my darling
The lion sleeps tonight

In July, in muggy July,
The lion ran for his life tonight.
With meat as a lure, he left his enclosure.
The lion died tonight
Some hep violent galumphing Minnesota dentist
All aglee, had to get his trophy.
Plunge, tangle, gag 'n gulp.
The lion's head got severed tonight.
Vehement men;
The lion's pelt was stolen tonight.
Juveniles will join him in quiet mortality.
Ahhhhhhhhhh! Gee, gee, geeeeeee, we wept.

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There once was a Lion King fan,
Who loved it as much as one can.
"No worries! She'd say
And watch it all day,
Hoping somehow to join Simba's clan.

Oh, how can anyone?! Slain by a dentist?!
Enough of a void! Oh, Cecil is missed.
How can Walter
'Jackass' Palmer?!
Now a moron's high on a 'Wanted' list!