This week's contests: We're running low on coveted Loser T- Shirts again. When we finally roused cartoonist Bob Staake out of his Cape Cod beach chair to tell him it was time for him to think of a new design, Bob decided, um, magnanimously that he would let you come up with new ideas for both front and back. Bob will choose the winning idea for the front from a list of finalists, and will then draw the cartoon. Winner gets Bob's original. The winning slogan or simple design for the back gets the Inker. The front needs to say "Loser" along with the picture. You don't have to draw anything; just tell us your idea. Pictured are the current model (center) and some previous versions.

Runners-up all win the coveted Style Invitational Loser T-shirt. Honorable mentions get one of the lusted-after Style Invitational Magnets. One prize per entrant per week. Send your entries by e- mail to losers@washpost.com or by fax to 202-334-4312. Deadline is Monday, Sept. 20. Put the week number 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 Oct. 10. 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 contest is by Tom Witte of Montgomery Village.

Report from Week 571, in which we asked for neologisms containing the letters T, H, E and S, consecutively but in any order: It was so imaginative of 99 percent of all entrants to send in "THEStyleinvitational." This was a great contest. We'll do it again sometime, with another set of letters.

{diam}Fourth Runner-Up: Gethsemoney: Thirty pieces of silver. (Chris Doyle, Forsyth, Mo.)

{diam}Third Runner-Up: Smahtest: From the only state that didn't vote for Nixon in '72. (Dan Seidman, Watertown, Mass.)

{diam}Second Runner-Up: Temple-shtemple: The chant some Jews say before tucking into their traditional Yom Kippur brunch. (Bill Spencer, Exeter, N.H.)

{diam}First Runner-Up, winner of the Defense Intelligence Agency coffee mug and stealth bomber bandanna: Whetstoned: Under the misperception that one's wits are sharpened by pot-smoking. (Dave Prevar, Annapolis)

{diam}And the winner of the Inker: Transvestheight: The distance between the jockstrap and the bra. (Frank Mullen, Aledo, Ill.)

And herE'S THe Honorable Mention list:

Bouillabaissetherapy: Fish soup for the soul. (Chris Doyle)

Alphabeths: Queens Elizabeth I and II. (Walt Johnston, Woodstock, Md.)

Arewethereyetshriek: A summer sound heard often on I-95. (Dave Komornik,

Danville, Va.)

Busthell: The place between the plates of the mammogram machine. (Pam Sweeney, Germantown)

Westhamptonboroughminsterburginshire: A small village in England, pronounced "Wesher." (Chris Doyle)

Porchestra: A bluegrass band.

(Kyle Hendrickson, Dunkirk)

Braphets: People who can guess your cup size (see also: Chestimators). (Phyllis

Reinhard, East Fallowfield, Pa.; Tom Witte, Montgomery Village)

Huhster: A president who leaves his

audience with furrowed brow, as when

saying, "I am mindful not only of preserving executive powers for myself, but for

predecessors as well." (Walt Johnston)

Kashtent: Where you find the

moneychanger at an Uzbek bazaar. (Chris Doyle) .

Allrightest: Superlatively whatever.

(Brendan Beary, Great Mills)

Lushetero: A gay man who'll make a pass at a woman when he's drunk, then claim the next morning that he doesn't remember a thing. (Tom Witte)

Suckotesh: A combination of lima beans, corn and pablum. (Russell Beland,

Springfield)

Prophetsharing: An interfaith service. (Chris Doyle)

Sethwho: Response to the bartender's

calling "Last round." (Judith Cottrill, New York)

Cystheap: Why you don't want to look in those biohazard containers. (Jane Auerbach, Los Angeles)

Fehtser: A wine critic. (Dan Seidman)

Chesterdrawers: Overalls. (Chris Doyle)

Horsethong: Nickname for XXXL

underpants. (Mark Young, Washington)

Stonesthrow: A unit of distance used in the Middle East. (Seth Brown, North Adams, Mass.)

Hesteria: A Vassar student's obsession with getting all A's. (Phyllis Reinhard, East Fallowfield, Pa.)

Lushter: The gleam on a drunk's nose. (Dan Seidman)

Wastehauteur: The corollary to conspicuous consumption: the snob appeal of how much one throws away. (Brendan Beary)

Winchesterfield: A smoking gun. (Chris Doyle)

Triumphsetback: A Pyrrhic victory. (Chris Doyle)

Assthetes: The morons you try to drown out as they spew dilettante blather in art

galleries and cinema lobbies. (Elisa Nichols, Kensington)

Whosthegroom: A common question at some Massachusetts weddings.

(Dave Komornik)

Teshtosterone: A hormone that

paradoxically deepens the voice but makes one seem wimpy. (Brendan Beary)

Zygoteship: The Love Boat. (Peter Metrinko, Plymouth, Minn.)

Absinthespian: An actor who goes to Japan to appear in liquor commercials. (Mark Young)

Frodosynthesis: The one-volume conden-

sation of "The Lord of the Rings." (Ben Schwalb, Severna Park)

Hithest and Thithest: Middle English forms of "right here" and "right there." (Peter

Metrinko)

Loathescorn: A hate-hate relationship. (Chris Doyle)

Thesauropod: An old-timer whose conversation plods along . . . in search of . . . the word that is most . . . efficacious. (Brendan Beary)

Thespeein: The good ol' boys showing off on the shoulder as the relieve themselves in the glare of the headlights. (Dave Prevar)

Thespeons: Extras. (Russell Beland)

Kennethstarr: To harry a public figure for sexual indiscretions. (Chris Doyle)

Thithes: People who are afraid of getting their front teeth knocked out.

(Marty McCullen, Gettysburg, Pa.)

Kithsex: Hey, what are friends for? (Chris Doyle)

Nibletshead: An Iowan, to a Minnesotan. (Peter Metrinko)

Reconditeshlocking: Trying to get ink with highbrow but lame Invitational entries. (Phil Frankenfeld, Washington)

And Last: Hste: When there's just no time for spelling the whole word. (Eric Murphy, Chicago)