The Style Invitational Week 930 We WANT stupid complaints!
By Pat Myers, Published: July 29

“Dear Washington Post: How come you didn’t invite ME to your humor contest?”

Post readers have never been all that shy about complaining about things they see in the paper — and now, with a chance to do so anonymously in online comments, barely a word goes by that doesn’t offend someone or another. Of course, many of the objections are reasonable, but of course, we have no interest in those. This week: Complain comically unreasonably about some innocuous thing appearing in the print Post or on washingtonpost.com over the next week or the previous few days. Don’t write a whole essay; 40 words will be a long entry.

Winner gets the Inker, the official Style Invitational trophy. Second place receives the fabulous book “Chinglish,” a collection of photos of English-language signs found in China, with comically over-literal translations like “Slip and fall down carefully” and “Deformed man toilet.”

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” (FirStink for their first ink). E-mail entries to losers @ washpost.com or fax to 202-334-4312. Deadline is Monday, Aug. 8; results published Aug. 28 (Aug. 21 online). Include “Week 930” 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 at washingtonpost.com/styleinvitational. The revised title for next week’s results was submitted by both Tom Witte and Beverley Sharp; this week’s honorable-mentions subhead is by Tom Witte. This week’s contest was suggested in large part by Elden Carnahan.

Report from Week 926, in which we asked for novel fortune cookie messages: FYI, dozens of people: “I’m being held prisoner in a fortune cookie factory” is not novel.

The winner of the Inker:

A fool and his money are soon parted.
Your lucky numbers: 5 17 29 52 77 (Ward Kay, Vienna, Va.)

2. Winner of the bottle of Loo-pourri “preemptive bathroom scent” spray: I am reading this aloud in a juvenile, attention-seeking way. (Amanda Yanovitch, Midlothian, Va.)

3. If you add “in bed” to the end of this fortune, you will suffer greatly. (Drew Knoblauch, Arlington, Va.)

4. Remember when these were made in China and computers in the United States? (Larry Yungk,Arlington, Va.)

Mu shu dork: Honorable mentions

I really wanted to be a tweet. (Art Grinath, Takoma Park, Md.)

Hang on to this — our bathroom is out of toilet paper. (Larry Yungk)

Confucius say: “Subject-verb agreement not important.” (Malcolm Fleschner, Palo Alto, Calif.)

These tiny typewriters are a real pain. (Chuck Smith, Woodbridge, Va.)

If your fortune cookie is defective, please return it unopened to get a replacement. (Anne Day, Rockville, Md., a First Offender)

If we had lucky lottery numbers, do you think we’d stuff them in fortune cookies? (Steve Honley, Washington; Chuck Smith)

Do not remove this tag under penalty of law. (Chris Doyle, Ponder, Tex.; Craig Dykstra, Centreville, Va.)

Sign up for paperless delivery! (Jonathan Hardis, Gaithersburg, Md.)

You have something stuck in your teeth. A little to the right. No, lower. Forget it. (Nandini Lal, Bethesda, Md., a First Offender)

Tip generously — don’t make us go all Tiananmen Square on you. (Dixon Wragg, Santa Rosa, Calif.)

By breaking this cookie you agree to the revised iTunes terms of service. (Gary Crockett, Chevy Chase, Md.)

“Sanitized for your protection” (Jeff Contompasis, Ashburn, Va.)

Your reading of this fortune may be monitored to ensure quality perusal. (Mae Scanlan, Washington)

Your lucky number is 9-1-1. We suggest you use it now. (Larry Yungk)

Melamine content acceptable (Pet Food Examiner #237) (Kevin Dopart, Washington)

According to the USDA, this is now a fortune vegetable. (Benjamin Blanchard, Novi, Mich., a First Offender)

All your debt are belong to us. (Kevin Dopart)

Free acupuncture with inadequate tip. (Mike Peck, Alexandria, Va.)

If any part of your meal tasted like leather, that was just bits of collar. (Lawrence McGuire, Waldorf, Md.)

This is the world’s worst pinata. (Bird Waring, Larchmont, N.Y.)

You don’t want to know what the babysitter is doing right now. (Andrew Hoenig, Rockville, Md.)

Why are you wasting time reading this cookie? Get back to your violin! — Tiger Mom (Christy Tossatto, Olney, Md.)

And some more “remeanings” from Week 925:

Kernel: Chief officer of the Iowa State Patrol. (Brad Alexander, Wanneroo, Australia)

Knee-slapper: A reluctant mob enforcer. (Tom Witte, Montgomery Village, Md.)

Larghetto: The back corner of the trendy restaurant where the maitre d’ seats the fat people. (John Shea, Philadelphia)

Metastatic: Really excited about being excited. (Jamie Pazur, St. Simons Island, Ga.)

Lobotomies: Hip-hugger jeans. (Judy Blanchard, Novi. Mich.)

Locomotion: Finger-drawing circles near the head to opine on someone’s sanity. (Pam Sweeney, Burlington, Mass.)

Noshes: Queasy after scarfing down the giant bag of Doritos. (Chris Doyle)

Judicious: Two sets of dinnerware. (Craig Dykstra)

Next week: Drive-by shoutings, or Highway ribbery