Witty-griddy: Word-find neologisms
In Week 1216 we presented the randomly constructed word search grid below, and asked you to “discover” words by snaking a line through adjacent letters, in any or every direction. The coordinates before the entries mark the first letter; you can trace the word on the grid from there. 4th place B-4: DORKRIDER: A guy wearing a leather jacket on a Segway. (Bruce Johnson, Churchton, Md.) 3rd place L-11: LIAGRA: “I’m only taking it to make it better for YOU.” (Todd DeLap, Fairfax) 2nd place and the Toilet Tunes electronic keyboard mat: J-4: SEMICOM: A punctuation mark denoting the briefest possible pause between totally random thoughts. “I’m so upset about losing Marsha [semicom] mmm, cupcakes! (Frank Osen, Pasadena, Calif.) And the winner of the Inkin’ Memorial: H-6: IMPEACHIER: Less peachy. “The way things are going in the White House couldn’t be any impeachier.” (Jesse Frankovich, Lansing, Mich.) Path-illogical: honorable mentions F-6: EPATAPH: What they’re saying now for environmental regulations. (Frank Osen) D-8: AARPED: Turned 50. “He AARPed on his last birthday and it wasn’t pretty.” (Beverley Sharp, Montgomery, Ala.) H-5: ARFTIME: Mid-program break at the Puppy Bowl. (Frank Osen) I-5: FAMELIT: Books “authored” by celebrities who write only checks. (Lawrence McGuire, Waldorf, Md.) J-12 DIAREA: A journal documenting your every movement. (Jon Gearhart, Des Moines) J-13: COSAG: Grow old together. (Joanne Free, Clifton, Va.) J-6: FACTTIME: An app that’s banned from all White House devices. (Kevin Dopart, Washington) J-7: ACUNERD: Someone who points out every flawed technical detail. “Acunerd Neil DeGrasse Tyson noted the incorrect constellations shown in ‘Titanic.’ ” (Jeff Contompasis, Ashburn, Va.) L-9: PMS RAGE: Non compos menses. (Chris Doyle, Denton, Tex.) N-4: ZILCCI: What you end up when you forget to pack away mothballs along with your expensive Italian suit. (Frank Osen) B-4: DORKKNOT: A man bun. (Jeff Contompasis) C-10: TYRUNT: A diminutive despot. A half-pint Hitler. A pocket Pol Pot. A mini Mao. Kim Jung Un. (Tom Witte, Montgomery Village, Md.; Mae Scanlan, Washington)
C-16: MYMYMY: The start of a thinly veiled rebuke from your grandmother: “Mymymy, that’s an interesting choice of outfit for a funeral, dear.” (Hildy Zampella, Falls Church) E-14: NERDPX: The Apple Store. (Frank Osen) F-7: PRALEAN: Low-fat confection with “nuts,” “sugar” and “cream.” (Hildy Zampella)
G-3 SNOTHURST: Country Day School for the Pretentiously Rich. (William Kennard, Arlington) J-10: VIAGRA TIME: Often follows extensive Miller Time. (Barry Koch, Catlett, Va.) J-6: FEARFIT: That hot new cardio regimen in which the instructor chases you around with a chain saw. (Amy Harris, Charlottesville) J-6: FUTELLA: A low-selling breakfast spread made of toe jam. (Ann Martin, College Park) J-9: LARDVAC: Liposuction tool. “Your Mama’s so fat she needs the industrial lardvac.” (Chris Doyle) K-13: VIRGINN: A lodging place that, alas, is not taking bookings. (Tom Witte) K-9: RAT-A-TAT-A-CLICK: The sound of an AK-47 running out of ammo. (Chris Doyle) M-15: PLEBVIN: Snooty French term for Californian wine (Sam Kyung-Gun Lim, Urbana, Ill., a First Offender) A-2: HUMIN: What to er is. (Ian Graham, Orp-Jauche, Belgium) N-5: COXID: The opposite of flaccid. (Stephen Dudzik, Olney) O-2: SHARM: What the drunk in the pickup bar thinks he has. (Tom Panther, Sharps, Va.) A-2: HUMIDORK: Guy who gives out cigars when his gerbil has pups. (Tom Murphy, Bowie, Md.) P-15: BELT-IN-IN-ING: Staying on your diet all year long. (Jack McBroom, Fort Valley, Va.) Q-3: TERMMOIL: We’ll have plenty of this the next four years. (Dave Silberstein, College Park) S-3: WETI: The Abominable Rain Man. (Mark Raffman, Reston) F-2: NO-INK REINCE: The White House chief of staff fails to impress the Empress of The Style Invitational. (Ed Edwards, Worcester Park, England) Still running — deadline Monday night, March 27: Our contest for “lik the bred” poems. See bit.ly/ invite1219.