Each year the Washington Post's Style Invitational asks readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing only one letter and supply a new definition. Here are some of the 2002 winners:

Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.

Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

Giraffiti: Vandalism painted very, very high.

Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.

Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

Hipatitis: Terminal coolness.

Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer...


My first job was working in an orange juice factory, but I got canned... couldn't concentrate.
Then I worked in the woods as a lumberjack, but I just couldn't hack it, so they gave me the axe.
After that I tried to be a tailor, but I just wasn't suited for it, mainly because it was a sew-sew job.
Next I tried working in a muffler factory, but that was too exhausting.
Then I tried to be a chef, I figured it would add a little spice to my life, but I just didn't have the thyme.
I attempted to be a deli worker, but any way I sliced it, I couldn't cut the mustard.
My best job was being a musician, but eventually I found I wasn't noteworthy.
I studied a long time to become a doctor, but I didn't have any patience.
Next was a job in a shoe factory I tried, but I just didn't fit in.
I became a professional fisherman, but discovered that I couldn't live on my net income.
I managed to get a good job working for a pool maintenance company, but the work was just too draining.
So then I got a job in a workout center, but they said I wasn't fit for the job.
After many years of trying to find steady work I finally got a job as a historian, but there was no future in it.
My last job was working at Starbucks, but I had to quit, because it was always the same old grind.
SO I RETIRED AND FOUND I AM PERFECT FOR THE JOB!


Nursery school teacher says to her class, "Who can use the word 'Definitely' in a sentence?"

First a little girl says "The sky is definitely blue" Teacher says, "Sorry, Amy, but the sky can be grey, or orange..."

Second little boy..."Trees are definitely green" "Sorry, but in the autumn, the trees are brown."

Little Johnny from the back of the class stands up and asks "Does a fart have lumps?"
The teacher looks horrified and says..."Johnny! Of course not!!!"
"OK...then I DEFINITELY shat my pants..."


A mangy looking guy goes into a bar and orders a drink. The bartender says, "No way. I don't think you can pay for it."

The guy says, "You're right. I don't have any money, but if I show you something you haven't seen before, will you give me a drink?"

The bartender says, "Only if what you show me ain't risque."

"Deal!" says the guy and reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a hamster. He puts the hamster on the bar and it runs to the end of the bar, down the bar, across the room, up the piano, jumps on the keyboard and starts playing Gershwin songs. And the hamster is really good.

The bartender says, "You're right. I've never seen anything like that before. That hamster is truly good on the piano." The guy downs the drink and asks the bartender for another.

"Money or another miracle else no drink," says the bartender. The guy reaches into his coat again and pulls out a frog. He puts the frog on the bar, and the frog starts to sing. He has a marvelous voice and great pitch--a fine singer. A stranger from the other end of the bar runs over to the guy and offers him $300 for the frog.

The guy says, "It's a deal." He takes the three hundred and gives the stranger the frog. The stranger runs out of the bar. The bartender says to the guy, "Are you some kind of nut? You sold a singing frog for $300? It must have been worth millions. You must be crazy."

"Not so", says the guy, "the hamster is also a ventriloquist."


A guy walks into a bar and sits down. He starts dialing numbers... like a telephone... on his hand and talking into his hand. The bartender walks over and tells him this is a very tough neighborhood and he doesn't need any trouble here.

The guy says, "You don't understand. I'm very hi-tech. I had a phone installed in my hand because I was tired of carrying the cellular."

The bartender says "Prove it."

The guy dials up a number and hands his hand to the bartender. The bartender talks into the hand and carries on a conversation. "That's incredible," says the bartender. "I would never have believed it!"

"Yeah," said the guy, "I can keep in touch with my broker, my wife, you name it. By the way, where is the men's room?" The bartender directs him to the men's room. The guy goes in and 5, 10, 20 minutes go by and he doesn't return.

Fearing the worst given the neighborhood, the bartender goes into the men's room. There is the guy spread-eagle on the wall. His pants are pulled down and he has a roll of toilet paper up his butt.

"Oh my god!" said the bartender. "Did they rob you? Are you hurt?"

The guy turns and says: "No, I'm ok. I'm just waiting for a fax."