The Style Invitational Week 753 Hot Off The Riddle

Saturday, February 16, 2008; C02


What do you get when you cross an automobile with a household animal?


Wholesome answer: A carpet!


Style Invitational answer: In Kentucky, dinner.


We like to reach a broad readership here at The Washington Post: the Neiman Marcus habitue and the Wal-Mart bargain hunter, the sports fan and the arts aficionado, the wholesome sane person and the depraved cynical reprobate. In this spirit we offer this week's contest, suggest by Wholesome Sane Loser Peter Metrinko of Chantilly, the same Mr. Metrinko who posed for this publication with his face sticking out of his underpants. This week: Supply a simple riddle and both the wholesome answer and the (printable) Invitational answer. The wholesome riddles don't have to be original (you can find many online; Googling "riddles for kids" yields plenty), but the Invitational answers must be.


Winner gets the Inker, the official Style Invitational trophy. Second place receives, just in time to be late for Saint Patrick's Day, two fine prizes: brought back from Ireland by Beverley Sharp, a cute little ceramic ashtray in the shape of a toilet, decorated with shamrocks and the words "Rest your ash"; and brought back from Ireland by Wilson Varga of Alexandria, who happened to visit Loser 4 Ever John O'Byrne in Dublin, a shamrock-theme yo-yo. (John, by the way, reports that he plans to cross the pond in May simply to attend the Losers' annual award banquet, the Flushies. Talk about your shamrock-theme yo-yos.)


Other runners-up win their choice of a coveted Style Invitational Loser T-shirt or yearned-for Loser Mug. Honorable Mentions get one of the lusted-after Style Invitational Magnets. One prize per entrant per week. Send your entries by e-mail to or by fax to 202-334-4312. Deadline is Monday, Feb. 25. Put "Week 753" in the subject line of your e-mail, or it risks being ignored as spam. Include your name, postal address and phone number with your entry. Contests are judged on the basis of humor and originality. All entries become the property of The Washington Post. Entries may be edited for taste or content. Results will be published March 22. No purchase required for entry. Employees of The Washington Post, and their immediate relatives, are not eligible for prizes. Pseudonymous entries will be disqualified. The revised title for next week's results is by Dave Prevar; this week's Honorable Mentions name is by Dave Zarrow.


Report From Week 749, in which we asked you to come up with entirely new meanings for existing words beginning with A- through H-, so that "Opus" cartoonist Berkeley Breathed wouldn't have to use our old ones anymore:


The Empress received untold zillions of entries for this contest -- so many that she's spreading the results over this week and next, with two sets of prizes. Kevin Dopart of Washington alone sent 288 entries. So when you see his name over and over below, just remember that the vast majority of Kevin's entries were blithely tossed into the trash, just as yours were.


Some of the results play a little hard to get, as it were: You have to pronounce the vowels in the word differently or break the syllables differently, or both. For example, "Headdress: Mister," by (who else) Kevin Dopart, is supposed to be read "he-address." Entries firmly of this type are italicized.


We also received some very clever descriptions of the words' actual meanings. Among the best of these was "Head cold: Rheum at the Top," by Chris Doyle. We'll do that contest again sometime, too.


4. Book: Ms. Derek, now that she's no longer a 10. (Alistair Beck, North Saanich, B.C., a First Offender)


3. Conning tower: A Madison Avenue skyscraper. (Mel Loftus, Holmen, Wis.)


2. the winner of the "Many Moods of Farrah" doll-head shadow box:


Cremate: Coffee-Mate's unsuccessful initial brand name. (Kevin Dopart, Washington)


And the Winner of the Inker


Arms Akimbo: The notorious Nigerian gunrunner. (Peter Metrinko, Chantilly)


Low Def: Honorable Mentions


Abjectness: The degree to which your belly protrudes. (Russell Beland, Springfield)


Adverb: Buy! (Duncan Seed, Robin Hood's Bay, North Yorkshire, England)


Accordion: The result of a Honda's collision with a Peterbilt. (Tom Witte, Montgomery Village)


Alabaster: How a lesbian couple's baby might be conceived. (Jean Lightner Norum, Charlottesville)


Algebra: Lingerie worn by mermaids. (Chuck Smith, Woodbridge)


Apostle: What a Bostonian takes to the post office. (Beverley Sharp, Washington)


Arsenal: Completely, all-inclusive. (Bird Waring, New York)


Aspiration: the trickle of sweat that runs down past your back on a hot summer day. (Morris Davis, Gainesville, a First Offender)


Ballpark: An athletic supporter. (Ross Elliffe, Picton, New Zealand)


Bandage: Instruments, amps, mikes, cocaine, etc. (Tom Witte)


Bandicoots: The Rolling Stones. (Gary Hevel, Silver Spring)


Barfly: To get airsick. (Chris Doyle, Ponder, Tex.)


Barstool: The [stuff] a lawyer tells you. (Russell Beland)


Bassoonist: An optimistic fisherman. (Russ Taylor, Vienna)


Bedpan: An unfavorable MySpace review after a hookup. (Jeff Brechlin, Eagan, Minn.)


Benchmark: Telltale sign on the rear end of a third-string player. (David Kleinbard, Jersey City)


Biceps: Half of a forceps. (Brendan Beary, Great Mills)


Binary: This is another thing that's true of Iran. -- M. Ahmadinejad (Kevin Dopart)


Blunderbuss: To French-kiss your boss's wife at the office Christmas party. (Roy Ashley, Washington)


Bombard: A battlefield poet. (Mae Scanlan, Washington)


Boron: A chem major at a party. (Kevin Dopart)


Braid: The part of the male consciousness that drives him to look at a women's chest. (Russell Beland)


Bristling: A newly circumcised baby. (Phyllis Reinhard, East Fallowfield, Pa.)


Bumpkin: A hit man from the Family. (Beverley Sharp)


Buttonhole: What Asians call a Western toilet. (Dan Ramish, Vienna)


Camel toe: The toe of a camel. (Peter Metrinko)


Cardamom: A bar's policy to flatter middle-aged women by always asking for ID. (Ellen Raphaeli, Falls Church)


Catapult: A hairball. (J. Larry Schott, Gainesville, Fla.)


Charmed: Burn ointment. (Warren Tanabe, Annapolis)


Cherish: Describing many a drag queen. (Jay Shuck, Minneapolis)


Coliseum: Lassie finds Timmy. (Ellen Raphaeli)


Crayfish: Not nearly as impressive as IBM chess. (Kevin Dopart)


Cryptic: The Triple-A Driving Tour of Famous Cemeteries. (Mel Loftus)


Cupola: Breast enhancement scams. (Paul Kocak, Syracuse, N.Y.)


Danger: Someone who uses only the mildest swear words. (Horace LaBadie, Dunnellon, Fla.)


Davenport: A safe place for Jews to pray. (Ira Allen, Bethesda)


Distribute: A nasty eulogy. (Christopher Lamora, Arlington)


Dowager: To bet on the Pillsbury Bake-Off. (Phyllis Reinhard)


Eggs Benedict: The pope's edict on fertility treatments. (Paul Kocak)


Effrontery: The missionary position. (Tom Witte)


Electrocute: Use a Hello Kitty taser. (Kevin Dopart)


Electrons: Supporter of Rep. Paul -- highly charged, with an eccentric orbit. (Ben Aronin, Washington)


Empty-handed: Punished by a Saudi court. (Chris Doyle)


Exorbitant: A former astronaut. (Phyllis Reinhard)


Fahrenheit: Moderately tall. (John Glenn, Tyler, Tex.)


Fan letter: K. (Chris Doyle)


Flaccid: Lousy LSD. (Randy Lee, Burke)


Flatus: The region between the Appalachians and the Rockies. (Randy Lee)


Foliage: A class of congressional pages. (Dan Ramish)


Gamma ray: Norma's nana. (Phyllis Reinhard)


G-spot: A mild reproach to a dog. (Duncan Seed)


Halitosis: The disease your computer gets when it refuses to do what you want it to do. (Bill Spencer, Baltimore)


Harlot: Someone who'll laugh on and on at any stupid joke the boss makes. (Paul Kocak)


Hispanic: What Lou Dobbs demonstrates every time he opens his mouth about immigration. (Christopher Lamora)


Hoaxer: Jack the Ripper. (Phyllis Reinhard)


Hootenannies : A restaurant where all the waitresses are grandmas in tight T-shirts. (Mel Loftus)


Hungarian: Someone who's always on a diet. (Marty McCullen, Gettysburg, Pa.)


Next Week: More of the Same, or The Language Gone to H


Aw, Shoot! Photo Contest No. 4


We're still accepting entries for our photo contest to illustrate, humorously, any of five captions we supplied. Deadline is Feb. 25; see the captions and the contest rules here: Week 750.