Rerun: Wiseass 101

Sorry for the rerun. I'm extremely busy at work this week AND feeling kinda crappy. However, one bit of exciting news: The Dog's Breakfast has passed 50,000 visitors! Woo hoo!

Original posting date 2/9/05. Updated and expanded today.

All of the recent Pope news has made me nostalgic for my all-girl Catholic High School days. Boy, was I an exemplary student. I was in trouble a good part of the time, never for anything hostile or hurtful but more for antics like collecting the dissected worms from Biology class and putting them in various appetizing places around the lunchroom. (including the Coke machine and in an unsuspecting girl's sandwich). I was sent to the principal's office for organizing poker games that sometimes ended in fistfights (hey, not me...other chicks!). I'd bring a giant Scotch bottle filled with pennies to school, tie ribbons around my sleeves and wear a visor for the poker events (staged on the filthy floor of the cafeteria). Remember, this was the early '70s...pre-poker craze.

When called out in Science class for who-know-what, I enlisted two of my friends to join me in serenading our teacher, Mr. Arena (while sitting on his desk of course), in a plea to the tune of "Big Spender": "The minute you walked in the lab (boom boom)...I could see you were a man of demerits...a real five pointer..Hey, Mr. Arena! Take ....... this little demerit from me..."

For the outcome, read my 100 Things. ;)

I devised a way for us to go braless (under our white cotton uniform blouses) to drive the male teachers nuts. The nuns would actually approach us and say "Are you wearing a bra??" We'd glue little piece of bra-strap inside the shoulder area of our blouse and pull it out through the neckline and say, "Yes! Of course!"

Influenced by my still-in-the-closet best friend Andrew, I would also make decidedly inappropriate selections for book reports, like the one I did on a little missive called "Mother Camp" about transvestites and transsexuals. I still have the report, replete with all the frenetic red markings scolding me for not getting the book pre-approved. Hey, I thought it was really fascinating! A particularly juicy paragraph helped the reader (in this case, the prune-faced Sister Ruth Miriam) distinguish between the various types of "queens", including the "dinge queen, noted for having anal sex in public restrooms." That nun is probably STILL in an oxygen tent.

Anyway, I digress. What the recent Vatican events really reminded me of was an article I wrote for the school newspaper entitled, "The Pope: Who Died and Left HIM Boss?"

Although I probably spent twenty-six thousand hours in detention, I think they secretly really got a kick out of me.