Week 689: Busted Play
Shoot Off Some Ideas for Toys


It's that time of year again, by which of course we mean the time for
buying idiotic holiday presents for your junior loved ones. Really True
Loser Andrew Hoenig of Rockville called the Empress's attention to a
patent, publicized by Lawhaha.com and many other Web sites, for a " 'toy
gas-fired missile' that is prepared for takeoff by the operator's placing
'the inlet tube with its valve open adjacent to his anal region from
which a colonic gas is discharged.' " Who could possibly come up with a
more objectionable or stupid toy than a working fart-powered toy rocket?
And that's not a rhetorical question, but the answer is still obvious:
You can, Loser. Right?

Winner receives not a fart-powered rocket, alas, but the Inker, the
official Style Invitational trophy. First runner-up gets an exceedingly
tacky and super-lame Mistletoe Belt ("for men & woman"), donated by
veteran loser Kevin Mellema, which contains genuine plastic mistletoe
that can be positioned in whatever place you would like your loved one to
kiss you under. It is no more than a conventional-looking men's belt with
some little plastic greenery on it. We guarantee that, were you to win
this priceless item, it will be delivered to you for Christmas Eve
installation, unless you live in the far-off reaches of, say, Lilongwe,
Malawi, or Valley City, N.D., or Falls Church, Va. Anyone who thinks
it'll be clever to suggest a toy Mistletoe Belt is, sorry, not clever.

Other runners-up win a coveted Style Invitational Loser T-shirt.
Honorable Mentions (or whatever they're called this week) get one of the
all-new 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, Nov. 27. Put "Week 689" 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 Dec. 17. 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. The Honorable
Mentions name is by Roy Ashley of Washington.

Report From Week 686(a.k.a. Week 685), in which we asked you to offer up some things to be
thankful for.

Some people supplied notes of thanks especially suited to
the Thanksgiving table; others espoused more generally
ridiculous/nasty/cynical sentiments. Most everyone expressed heartfelt
thanks for the 22nd Amendment.

4 I'm thankful that Kim Jong Il doesn't have an evil twin. (Art Grinath,
Takoma Park)

3 That someone found my grandmother attractive. (Tim Vanderlee, Austin)

2 the winner of the the bobblehead of President Bush in his "Mission
Accomplished" flight suit: That I'm tall enough that I can't smell my own
feet. (Eric Murphy, Ann Arbor, Mich.)
And the Winner of the Inker

We should all be thankful that bald eagles taste terrible. Their eggs,
too. (Bruce Alter, Fairfax Station)

We're Also Mildly Appreciative ...

That my daughter has not yet pierced her other eyeball. (Rick Haynes,
Potomac)

That here in the Washington area we have many wonderful cultural
attractions, some of which I might get to one of these days if my
relatives come to visit. (Dennis Lindsay, Seabrook)

That dogs don't know everyone else hates you. (Dave Prevar, Annapolis)

For the sophistication of French cuisine, especially their fries. (Bob
Dalton, Arlington)

That I learned that x = 3 and y = 4, so now I'll be able to help my son
with his algebra homework. (Jeff Brechlin, Eagan, Minn.)

That they don't allow remote controls at the movie theater. (Art Grinath,
Takoma Park)

That O.J. likes to play golf so much -- otherwise he might still be
looking for me. -- T.R. Killer, Brentwood, Calif. (Jeff Brechlin)

That zombies can be stopped by a sharp blow to the head. (Stephen Dudzik,
Olney)

That it's bags of spinach that kill you and not bags of M&M's. (Russell
Beland, Springfield)

That you have to admit you have a problem before going through all the
other steps. Man, did that save me a lot of time! (Drew Bennett,
Alexandria)

I'm thankful yo mama so easy. (Tom Witte, Montgomery Village)

That everyone realized Helen Keller was playing up her handicaps for
effect. -- R.L., West Palm Beach, Fla. (Jay Shuck, Minneapolis)

That GM doesn't make Hondas. (Rick Peterson, Bethesda)

That changing their name from Bullets to Wizards did so much to reduce
gun violence in Washington. (Thad Humphries, Castleton, Va.)

That Tibet and Somalia probably still don't have nuclear weapons.
(Jeannie Kunkel, Fairfax)

That no one on my kid's soccer team knows that I'm a doctor, because when
the coach's kid broke his leg and people were shouting for a doctor, I
was making a run for high score in Tetris on my cellphone. (Jeff Brechlin)

That your pets can't testify against you. (Bob Dalton)

That old age doesn't last forever. (Dave Kelsey, Fairfax)

I'm thankful that Uncle Billy finally croaked and I get a chance to sit
at the big table. (Rich Carlson, Bowie)

I am thankful for this squash from our garden, which cost about $75 to
grow. (Peter Metrinko, Chantilly)

That NFL halftimes are only 15 minutes, so we don't have to waste lots of
time sitting around the dinner table on Thanksgiving Day. (Marty
McCullen, Gettysburg, Pa.)

That Steve Wynn is not a museum curator or an eye surgeon. (David
Kleinbard, Jersey City)

That Mark Foley was thoughtful enough to put his feelings in writing.
(David Kleinbard)

That it turns out Ben Cardin ALSO loves puppies -- whew!! (Ron Jackson,
Chevy Chase)

That I don't understand Portuguese, because that's what the nasty voices
in my head speak. (Bird Waring, New York)

That there were no wild emu in 1621 New England. (Ben Aronin, Washington)

That I don't yet know which aisle of the supermarket has the Depends.
(Patrick Mattimore, San Francisco)

That my class president elections didn't use Diebold machines. (Seth
Brown, North Adams, Mass.)

I'm thankful for women who love short, cheap, egomaniacal guys. (David
Kleinbard)

That it actually does get better than this. (Art Grinath)

And Last: I'm thankful that for one more week, I don't own that butt-ugly
painting. (Brendan Beary, Great Mills)

Next Week: Return of the Butt-Ugly Painting, or How Grate Thou Art