I'm working on memorizing this song, and I found it's really quite difficult to memorize -- the order of lines within verses, and order of verses, seems pretty arbitrary.

I've come up with little mnemonic stories for most of the lines (below, in italics), but I'd be curious what other folks have used in trying to memorize it...

He's the kind of guy puts on a motorcycle jacket / And he weighs about a hundred and five
He goes on his cycle to the beach...
He's the kind of surfer got a ho-daddy haircut / And you wonder how he'll ever survive
Then goes diving under the water...
He's the kind of frogman wearing twenty pounds of counterweights / And sinking in the sea like a stone
Where he swims to Vietnam and gets drafted...
He's the kind of soldier got no sense of direction / And they send him in the jungle alone
What do you find in jungles? Pumpkins!
But when the frost's on the pumpkin and the little girls are jumpin' / He's a hard loving son of a gun
If the girls are jumping, he must be somewhere up high, i.e. above stairs...
He's got them waiting downstairs just to sample his affairs / And they call him a spoonful of fun
Suggestions?

He's the kind of person going riding on a skateboard / And his mind's raging out of control
After he falls off the skateboard, he tries driving...
He's the kind of person goes to drive a Maserati / Puts his key inside the wrong little hole
No one will let him near a road now, so he goes to the slopes...
He's the kind of ski bum tearing wild down the mountain / Hits a patch where there ain't any snow
Now with too many injuries to do more than stand up and shoot...
He's the kind of cowboy got a hot trigger finger / Shoots his boot 'cause he's drawing kind of slow
Suggestions?
But when it comes in for rolling, he's an expert at bowling / Sets the pins up and lays 'em right down
I presume they are putting on bowling shoes instead of heels, right?
He's got them taking off their heels, and they like the way he feels / And they call him a carnival clown
They have parachutes at carnivals, don't they?

He's got a parachute and screaming out "Geronimo!" / And makes a little hole in the ground
Out of which a tree grows...
He's the kind of logger when the man hollers "Timber!" / Has to stop and look around for the sound
What's on top of trees? Bushy things -- like a (bad, little) beard!
He's the kind of artist rents a groovy little attic / And discovers that he can't grow a beard
Despairing over his failures as an artist, he jumps out of the attic...
He's the human cannon ball come in for a landing / And he wonders where the net disappeared
He'd have to take his feet off, too, after that landing... Suggestions?
But when he takes off his shoes, man, it won't come as news / He's got them lining up in threes and in twos
Suggestions?
He's got them panting on the floor, got them begging for some more / And they call him whatever they choose.


P.S. Joe (or another elf), please do link this thread (and the one from 1998) to the DT entry. It'd also be nice if a number of prominent redirects from the title "Hard Loving Loser" were made to this song, as I know I regularly mis-type it's title like that...

P.P.S. The DT version is missing apostrophes in a number of places, and has a number of spelling errors, including the howler: "painting on the floor" -- I don't think that was the original word... It'd be nice to fix those...