Isaac Asimov maintained that this is the ultimate:
An elderly gentleman had three boys who started a cattle farm. The old man dubbed the place Focus Farm because it's where the sun's rays meet.
My personal favorite, though, is about Michael Ritz, an obscure librettist who wrote an opera about a man who trained moose by talking to them, ala Horse Whisperer. It was very difficult to put on the opera, however, because the stage directions required that all of the singers be thin enough to come on stage by coming down a ten-inch diameter chimney. Eventually, though, it was presented with this billing:
Mike Ritz's Moose Talking is sung by the Chimney Width Choir.
The fact that I dreamed up this atrocity is somewhat germaine.
Another I liked was my entry in last year's Bullwer-Lytton contest, and I was somewhat hurt that I did not get a dishonorable mention:
The reporter interviewed the Mexican from the Yucatan, who sat in a vast vat of Jello as he explained why Nicholas Cage continued singing, even though he received obscene gestures fromt he entire audience, wondering if his editor would allow him to use as the headline: Mayan in Jello says, "I know why the birded Cage sings."
And things are likely to go downhill from here before they go uphill. Just remember: You started this thread.
