Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Wiseass 101


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In "honor" of the Pope's visit to the US, I just had to rerun this fan favorite:


Longtime readers of this blog know that I went to Catholic school for twelve years. Barring the "peep peep" joke from 1st grade, I was a pretty good little Catholic in elementary school. High school, not so much.

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...it was those other crazy 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...five card stud, not Texas Hold 'em.

When called out in Science class for who-knows-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, Sister! 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 papal visit really reminds 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 got a kick out of me.