Week XXIII (356): Med Icks


Suppositives: Rectally administered antidepressants.

I Can't Believe It's Not Cancer: A drug that treats hypochondria.

Buffyrin: A drug to finally kill the undead.

Klepto-Bismol: A cure for the compulsion to steal.

This Week's Contest was proposed by the Czarevich of the Style Invitational as he was leafing through the entries to Week XIX, below. The lad suggested that we reverse the concept: Require people to invent a clever name for a new medical product, and specify the condition it would treat. Patiently, we explained that this was too difficult an idea, even for grown-ups, at which point the little snot came up with the first example above, in approximately 11 seconds. So we said: Okay. That's the contest. First-prize winner gets a gargantuan bra and panties given away to journalists as promotional material by the producers of the jackass comedy flop "Big Momma's House," in the hopes of getting good publicity from newspapers like this one. 

First runner-up wins the tacky but estimable Style Invitational Loser Pen. Other runners-up win the coveted Style Invitational Loser T-Shirt. The Uncle's Pick wins the yet-to-be-designed but soon-to-be-coveted "The Uncle Loves Me" T-shirt. Send your entries via fax to 202-334-4312, or by e-mail to losers@washpost.com, or by U.S. mail to The Style Invitational, Week XXIII, c/o The Washington Post, 1150 15th St. NW, Washington, D.C. 20071. Deadline is Monday, July 10. All entries must include the week number of the contest and your name, postal address and a daytime or evening telephone number. E-mail entries must include the week number in the message field. Contests will be judged on the basis of humor and originality. All entries become the property of The Washington Post. Editors reserve the right to edit entries for taste or content. Results will be published in four weeks. No purchase required for entry. Employees of The Washington Post, and their immediate relatives, are not eligible for prizes.

Report FROM WEEK XIX (352), in which we asked you to come up with Laffs, new definitions for the names of commercial products.

A good idea too popular to reward with a prize: "Microsoft" as an antidote for a Viagra overdose. And no, we aren't printing the many fine entries involving the products "Die Hard" and "Wish-Bone."

* Fourth Runner-Up--Snickers: Goofy-looking underpants. (Saul Rosen, Rockville)

* Third Runner-Up--John Deere: A letter from a dyslexic announcing the end of a relationship. (Robin D. Grove, Laurel)

* Second Runner-Up--Ty-D-Bol: Martha Stewart Lanes. (Gary M. Welsh, Cabin John)

* First Runner-Up--Dumpster: A sleazy lawyer specializing in divorce.

(Paul Kocak, Syracuse, N.Y.)

* And the winner of the surgical chest spreader:

Evian: Holy water distilled from the tears of Saint Marisleysis.

(Jennifer Nelson, Washington)

* Honorable Mentions:

Play-Doh: A boneheaded move by an actor during a live performance, such as accidentally saying "To beat, or not to beat." (Mike Moore, Gaithersburg)

Stayfree Minipad: An in-town executive perk. (Chris Doyle, Burke)

Tylenol: The degree to which wives insist the bathroom must be cleaned. (Martin Bredeck, Community, Va.)

Efferdent: An expletive uttered after finding your car dinged in a parking lot. (Russell Beland, Annandale)

Prego, Eggo: (1) Pregnant with a baby human. (2) Pregnant with a baby bird. (Erik Spolnicki, Silver Spring)

The Clapper: The Typhoid Mary of gonorrhea. (Russell Beland, Annandale)

Warner Brothers: To notify a girl's male siblings of the lascivious intentions of an impending prom date. (James Pierce, Charlottesville)

Rolex: A spontaneous sex act with a former spouse. (Liz Smith, Burke) Ex-Lax: A listing of the shortcomings of a former spouse.

(Randal Wetzel, Hagerstown)

Budweiser: That mistakenly omniscient feeling one gets from smoking pot. (Robin D. Grove, Laurel)

Advil: An experimental community where one pays no property taxes but every square inch of sidewalk and wall space is filled with billboards and other commercial come-ons.

(Malcolm Fleschner, Arlington)

Playtex: To be all hat and no cattle. (Chris Doyle, Burke)

Montgomery Ward: The wing of a loony bin reserved for urban planners who think more highways are the solution to traffic congestion.

(Jonathan Paul, Garrett Park)

Bear Stearns: How a proctologist recognizes his patients.

(Jonathan Paul, Garrett Park)

Fidelity Investments: Chastity belts. (Katharine M. Butterfield, Potomac)

Cuisinart: Art that makes you queasy, such as that elephant-dung Virgin. (Dave Zarrow, Herndon; Jennifer Hart, Arlington)

Duncan Yo-Yos: Doughnuts that keep coming back up on you.

(Jerome Duncan, Annandale)

Calgon: The period of mourning after Ripken retires.

(Stu Solomon, Springfield)

M&M: Similar to S&M, except both people just sit there waiting for the other to start.

(Russell Beland, Annandale)

J.C. Penney: A very rare coin, dating from early A.D.

(Chuck Smith, Woodbridge)

Del Monte: The Royal Colombian Mounted Police.

(Martin Bredeck, Community, Va.)

Paine Webber: A cyber-sadist.

(Chris Doyle, Burke)

FedEx: Alimony.

(Meg Sullivan, Potomac)

Frosted Flakes: Dumb blondes. (Meg Sullivan, Potomac)

Kleenex: The rating of a movie with lots of violence but no sex.

(John Held, Fairfax)

Ritz Crackers: Wealthy rednecks. (John Held, Fairfax)

o.b.: A deodorant for dyslexics

(Jennifer Hart, Arlington)

Texas Instruments: Electric chairs

(Joseph Romm, Washington;

David Genser, Arlington)

Smith & Wesson: One of those nights involving an anonymous stranger and vegetable oil. (David Genser, Arlington)

Oral-B: Similar to a spelling bee, used to hire White House interns.

(Susan Reese, Arlington)

Motorola: A bribe resulting in choice seats at a NASCAR event.

(Ray Ratajczak, Arbutus, Md.)

Time Warner: An alarm clock.

(Mike Elliott, Oberlin, Ohio)

Johnson & Johnson: A male couple. (Joseph Romm, Washington)

Yoplait: A rap musical.

(Tom Witte, Gaithersburg)

* The Uncle's Pick:

IBM: What a 2-year-old says before you need to change him. (Joseph Romm, Washington)

The Uncle Explains: This was just so cute.

Next Week: A Laff Riot