The Style Invitational Week 925 Redefine, print
By Pat Myers, Friday, June 24, 4:52 AM
Negligent: Describes a condition in
which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightie. (Sandra Hull,
Arlington)
Pimple: A panderer’s apprentice. (Meg
Sullivan, Potomac)
One of the most widely
circulated sets of Invitational results — often incorrectly credited — are from
a 1998 contest for new meanings for actual words, including the two examples
above. Three years ago we ran the contest again, but only for words beginning
with A through H. This week: Redefine a word in the dictionary beginning with I
through O. The definition should differ greatly from the original.
Winner gets the Inker, the
official Style Invitational trophy. Second place wins a pair of boots: (a) a
heavy glass high-heel shoe filled with mango margarita mix (no alcohol
included), donated by longtime Loser Sarah W. Gaymon, and (b) a flimsy plastic
cowboy-boot-shaped mug commemorating the Washington Post-Newsweek Interactive
“second annual poker party,” from back when The Post Co. was in more of a
partying mood.
Other runners-up win their
choice of a coveted Style Invitational Loser T-shirt or yearned-for Loser Mug.
Honorable mentions get a lusted-after Loser magnet. First Offenders get a
smelly tree-shaped air “freshener” (Fir Stink for their first ink). E-mail
entries to or fax to 202-334-4312. Deadline is Tuesday, July 5; results
published July 24 (July 22 online). Include “Week 925” in your e-mail subject
line, or it may be ignored as spam. Include your real name, postal address and
phone number with your entry. See contest rules and guidelines here. The
revised title for next week’s results is by Barrie Collins; this week’s
honorable-mentions subhead is by Jeff Contompasis.
The biggest Loser ever!
Last week marked the
induction of Ultimate Loser Russell Beland into the Style Invitational Triple
Hall of Fame — where he’s likely to be the sole member for some two years — for
scoring his 1,500th blot of ink. The disturbingly high-ranking Pentagon
official has been Inviting since 1994 and has been a winner or runner-up 161
times, but he still manages to gripe regularly to the Empress about her
judging. See a sampling of Russell’s favorite entries here.
Report from Week 921, We asked for Little Willie poems, a genre of horribly
tasteless four-line verses — regularly printed in newspapers of yore — in which
Willie does a nasty thing for which he isn’t usually punished, and is often
even praised by an even more immoral relative:
The winner of the Inker:
Cousin Philip, uninvited,
Eyed the dinner, quite
excited.
Willie threw him on the
grill:
“With extra guests we eat our
Phil.” (Kevin Dopart, Washington)
2. Winner of the mug with the
cat litter logo:
Little Willie went to town,
and just to be a pain,
He pushed his father
underneath a speeding Metro train.
“He’s half the man he used to
be,” said Mom, “and not so handsome;
But, hey — when we forget our
key, he slides right through the transom!” (Beverley Sharp, Montgomery, Ala.)
3. Willie put the car in gear
But didn’t check both front
and rear.
The dog ran where he should
have not.
So now they call ol’ Fluffy
“Spot.” (Craig Dykstra, Centreville, Va.)
4. Little Willie used kung fu
To slice poor sister Sue in
two.
Splitting her from stem to sternum
Didn’t in the least concern
him. (Stephen Gold, Glasgow, Scotland)
Quatrainees: honorable mentions
Willie with a sharpened rod
Skewered up his neighbor
Maude.
As he turned her o’er a pit,
Pa said, “Stop — she ain’t
worth spit.” (Jeff Contompasis, Ashburn, Va.)
Little Willie smoked cigars,
He wooed the girls and went
to bars.
His mom was quick to give him
notice:
“Someday, my son, you’ll be
the POTUS.” (Judy Blanchard, Novi, Mich.)
Little Willie, underage,
hacked his mother’s Facebook
page.
He added pics of her
undressed—
She got ten thousand friend
requests. (Amanda Yanovitch, Midlothian, Va.)
Willie’s new rebellious
tactics:
Sabotage the prophylactics.
“Together, we shall bug my
mother —
Me and future baby brother!”
(Hugh Thirlway, The Hague)
Willie, always such a dream,
Put glue in Mommy’s
hemorrhoid cream.
Dad thanked Willie: “Now at
last
The septic tank won’t fill so
fast.” (Susan Geariety, Menifee, Calif.)
Little Willie, what a cad,
He stole at every chance he
had.
D.C. voters yawned, “So
what?”
And chose him for a council
slot. (Nan Reiner, Alexandria, Va.)
Little Willy, just last
Easter,
Knifed a slice from Daddy’s
keister.
Mama said, without much
pique,
“My, that took a bit of
cheek!” (sent pseudonymously and later revealed to be The Post’s Gene
Weingarten)
Little Willie had big fits,
He slashed Ma’s raincoat into
bits.
But Ma said, “I won’t give
you flak —
All you did was knife the
mac.” (Kathy Hardis Fraeman, Olney, Md.)
Little Willie need
not fear
A lifetime in the
wrong career.
Weak in English,
poor at math,
Willie’s on the
psycho path. (Chris Doyle, Ponder, Tex.)
Little Willie vended fish.
When spurned by Jane, a tasty
dish,
He took revenge for being
jilted —
Sadly, Jane is now gefilted.
(Stephen Gold)
Little Willie, feeling mean,
Took a course in haute
cuisine.
Deftly he deboned his sister;
Now she’s dynamite at
“Twister.” (Beverley Sharp)
Little Willie with his razor
Tore and slashed his pa’s new
blazer.
Ma said, “Stop this very
minute —
And wait until your pa is in
it.” (Kathye Hamilton, Annandale, Va.)
“Your siblings back up your
ambition
To be the nation’s best
mortician;
But Willie dear, I fear the
fact is
You’ve used up all of them
for practice.” (Hugh Thirlway)
With Willie’s new dissection
kit
He started on the cat a bit.
“Oh, no you don’t,” said mama
Mabel,
We eat dinner at that table!”
(Craig Dykstra)
Little Willie bought a book
That taught him novel ways to
cook.
Then he slew his favorite
cousins
And baked up cuzcakes by the
dozens. (Christopher Lamora, Guatemala City)
Little Will beheaded Rita,
Stuck her skull upon the
meter.
Now we’re facing parking woes
By always paying through the
nose. (Kevin Dopart)
Willie and his friend Ed Gein
Play “Seek a Hide,” a game
real keen.
It doesn’t matter, lose or
win,
They’re happy in the skin
they’re in. (Kevin Dopart)
Little Willie, as he mows,
Punctures Papa’s garden hose.
Ma cries, “What a pro he’ll
be,
Engineering for BP!” (Nan
Reiner)
Little Willie, helpful son,
Aimed right at baby with his
gun,
For Mom had mentioned that
the tot
Was due to get his yearly
shot. (Valerie Matthews, Ashton, Md.)
Willie borrowed Daddy’s saw
And sliced the next-door
twins in four.
The doctor said, “Pray, do I
stitch
Which half of whom back onto
which?” (John Bilsborough, Glyn Abbey, Llanelli, Carmarthenshire, Wales, U.K.,
a First Offender)
Willie munched a breakfast
bun,
Then killed a panda with a
gun.
Ma said, “Willie never
grieves.
Willie just eats, shoots and
leaves.” (Kathy Hardis Fraeman, Olney)
Exploding fake volcanoes are
Now in young Willie’s
repertoire.
With baking soda and bottled
Fanta,
He lit the hearth, and
“Bye-bye, Santa!” (Christopher Lamora)
Willie Lumpkin, little brat,
Stole his sister’s brand-new
hat.
He touched it up with
Mother’s grater.
Now she has a fascinator.
(Edmund Conti, Raleigh, N.C.)
Little Willie, what a nut,
In math class showed off half
his butt.
His teacher thought it rather
cruel —
Willie’s left behind in
school. (Mike Turniasnky, Pikesville, Md.)
The FBI, with great contrivance,
Closed the book on Dr. Ivins.
Should have searched for
those bacilli
In the home of little Willie.
(David Smith, Santa Cruz, Calif.)
And Last:
Willie madly punned and
joked;
“Willie, no!” his mother
choked.
“Be a lecher or a boozer
If you must — but NOT a
Loser!” (Ann Martin, Bracknell, England)
And Really Last:
Our Little Willie
verses tell
The stories of the
boy from hell —
A child so
loathsome, gross and vile
We celebrate him
here in Style. (Chris Doyle)
Next week: A banner week, or National anathemas