How are Groucho Marx's eyebrows like two male rabbits?

They both get a rise when they catch sight of a hot bunny.

Groucho Marx's eyebrows

The 400-meter dash

Sea urchin sushi

Two male rabbits

$52.20

The gestation period of a hippopotamus

The Flying Spaghetti Monster

A $400 pair of jeans

Deep Throat's throat

The Pandacam at the zoo

2 degrees Celsius

John Roberts's breakfast

This week's contest, a perennial Style Invitational feature: Choose any two or more items from the truly random list above and describe how they are alike or different, as in the example above. Winner gets the Inker, the official Style Invitational trophy. First runner-up receives a pair of lovely pink and white argyle socks sent to Style magazine critic Peter Carlson to promote something. He says they are unused.

Other runners-up win a 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, if you really have to, by fax to 202-334-4312. Deadline is Monday, Sept. 26. Results will be published Oct. 16. Put "Week 628" 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. Entries 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. 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 Scott Campisi of Wake Village, Tex.

Report from Week 624, in which we asked for limericks featuring words beginning with bd- through bl-:

{diam}Third runner-up:

If you don't want a swimsuit that's teeny,

You'll be wise not to try a bikini.

Even worse is the thong,

Which, unless I am wrong,

Would more aptly be called the betweeni.

(Brendan Beary, Great Mills)

{diam}Second runner-up:

Alden knew what his friend Miles Standish meant;

What his blushing request so outlandish meant.

He'd woo fair Priscilla

For that gruff old gorilla

Who couldn't provide his own blandishment.

(David Smith, Santa Cruz, Calif.)

{diam}First runner-up, winner of the inept horror movie "Manos: The Hands of Fate":

There once was a little French chamois

Who frolicked on rocks near his mamois.

His blameless young fun

Was soon wrecked by a gun,

And he's now washing cars in Miamois.

(David Alan Brooks, Llanfair-yn-Neubwll, Wales)

{diam}And the winner of the Inker:

Near my hospital room in a line

Are my bingo pals, hoping I'm fine.

Now the doc's at the door

(I'm in N-24),

And he's calling my tumor . . . B-9!

(Chris Doyle, Forsyth, Mo.)

{diam}Honorable Mentions:

In the mind is it nobler to die?

Or to fight without questioning why?

Should I face my life's lot?

Should I be, should I not?

That's the question; check all that apply.

-- Hamlet, State of Denmark

(Scott Campisi, Wake Village, Tex.)

Roast beast by the Grinch was allotted

To Whos, who responded, besotted,

With shouts and applause,

While the heart of this Claus

Grew three sizes -- and burst his carotid.

(Tim Alborn, Port Jefferson, N.Y.)

The doctor says now I'm forbidden

To get up and walk -- I'm bedridden.

I drank lots of iced tea

And I have to go pee

But I'm desperately wishing I didn'.

(Andrew Hoenig, Rockville)

At the newsstand one frequently sees

An assortment of bared double-D's.

Don't begrudge the fair sex

A few well-toned pecs:

We girls want some beefcake, not cheese-.

(Pam Sweeney, Germantown)

He was poised, and had calmness within,

And the Peace Prize (Nobel) he would win.

But Prime Minister Begin

Would curse like a pagan

When people would call him "Begin."

(Sheila Blume, Sayville, N.Y.)

A belch is a short burst of air

That in public may cause you despair

But it's not quite so crass

As the air you might pass

Impolitely from your derriere.

(Greg McGrew, Leesburg)

Most election reformers believe

Contributions are bad. (How naive!)

But my Bible instructs

What to do with my bucks:

Says it's better to give, then receive.

(Chris Doyle)

A husband inclined to berate

Might admonish a spouse who is late.

But this little showdown

Will just make her slow down:

Cool your heels, zip your lip, and just wait.

(Ron Stanley, Reston)

There's an interesting notion aroun'

That this limerick can only be foun'

When a person can see it

Or say it. So be it;

That's Berkeleianism, the noun.

(Bill Spencer, Exeter, N.H.)

Berries are better by far

Than all other kinds of fruit are:

They come black and blue,

And rasp and mul, too,

and huckle and boysen and strawr.

(Douglas Frank, Crosby, Tex.)

I wore black and refrained from all merrying

As I pondered celestial ferrying.

I arrived; my host gazed

On my outfit, amazed,

As it seems I'd been asked to go berrying.

(Sheila Blume)

A bestiality fan (what a creep!)

Had a torrid affair with a sheep.

The thing she most hated

Was that after they mated,

He would count her, then go right to sleep.

(Melissa Ann Taylor, New York)

If a peddler in Athens declares

You'll receive, if you purchase his wares,

A free panda that dances,

Don't take any chances:

Beware of a Greek gifting bears.

(Tim Alborn)

At a palace one sultry July

Near Paree, a jeune fille caught my eye.

She bewitched me that day

And I fell right away

En amour. It was love at Versailles.

(Chris Doyle)

Swapping presents twice yearly, you'll find

You'll biannual get back in kind.

But if every two years

We exchange souvenirs,

Then biennial thing -- I won't mind!

(Brendan Beary)

The gang who proved war is evadable

Now declare, "Any country is raidable,

And, for what it is worth,

We will not harm the Earth

Because people are biodegradable."

(Harvey Smith, McLean)

There's another deserving of blame

For divulging a CIA name,

But I sit in this cell

For refusing to tell

Who told me about Valerie Plame.

-- Judith Miller, Alexandria

(Chris Doyle)

Don't serve pork to an Orthodox Jew.

It's not kosher, so he'll say to you,

"That's a blasphemy, sir!"

The reply I prefer

Is: "Well, thanks, it's a blast for me too."

(Seth Brown, North Adams, Mass.)

To censors, the bleep was a hit

(Though directors go into a snit).

It doesn't sound swell

But it does the job well,

So your virgin ear never hears [bleep].

(Seth Brown)

The blues came from origins rural.

The songs paint a sorrowful mural.

I'm down with the woe

But I'd still like to know:

Is "blues" singular or are they plural?

(Tom Witte, Montgomery Village)

And Last:

Begrudge not the winner his spoil,

Though in vain goes another week's toil.

'Tis the fool who'd aspire,

Like a moth to the fire,

To match rhymes with one Christopher Doyle. (Steve Fahey, Kensington)

You can see more limericks from one Christopher Doyle and many other Losers at www.washingtonpost.com.