Dr. Metablog

Dr. Metablog is the nom de blague of Vivian de St. Vrain, the pen name of a resident of the mountain west who writes about language, books, politics, or whatever else comes to mind. Under the name Otto Onions (Oh NIGH uns), Vivian de St. Vrain is the author of “The Big Book of False Etymologies” (Oxford, 1978) and, writing as Amber Feldhammer, is editor of the classic anthology of confessional poetry, “My Underwear” (Virago, 1997).

“Nature to Advantage Dress’d”: Polite Conversation in the P.S.217 Schoolyard, c. 1955

Sheldon: Hey, look what the cat dragged in. ArnieWell as I live and breathe. Sheldon: You know what?  Arnie: What. Sheldon: That's what. Mel: Big shot. Sheldon: Who died and made you king?  Mel: Ask a stupid question and get a stupid answer. SheldonWhere were you when the brains were passed out?  Arnie: Yeah, eat this. SheldonYou wouldn’t know your ass from a hole in the ground. Mel: So what. Arnie: You’re so full of shit it’s coming out of your ears. Sheldon: Takes one to know one. Arnie: You know what's a good match?  Mel: What? Arnie: Your face and my ass. Mel: When you're finished, you can take the spoon out of my ass. Sheldon: Come again?  Are you cracked? Mel: Eat me. Arnie: You and what army?  SheldonAin’t that the limit?  Mel:  Hey, honey, shake it don’t break it. Arnie: Hubba hubba, ding ding.  Sheldon: What a pair! Arnie: Built like a brick shithouse. Mel: You got the money, honey, I got the time.  Sheldon: Don’t mean maybe. Arnie:  All talk and no action. Mel:  Any more at home like you?  Sheldon: She can put her shoes under my bed anytime. Arnie: Hard work but somebody’s got to do it. Mel: Saving it for the worms?  Sheldon: Well, back to the salt mines. Arnie: Another day, another dollar. Sheldon: That ain’t hay. Mel: Long day, no. Arnie: We were just talking about you. Sheldon: that’s what she said. Arnie: Well, that’s that. Mel: I don’t bust my hump for anyone anymore. Arnie: Couldn’t care less. Sheldon: If you don’t like it, lump it. Mel:  Who cut the cheese? Arnie:  Another county heard from. Mel: Do me a favor. Drop dead. Sheldon: I'm feeling bright eyed and bushy tailed. Mel: Have a coffin nail? Arnie: Don't mind if I do. Mel: I’ve been smoking all my life and I ain’t dead yet. Arnie: I could eat a horse. Mel: He’d lose his head if it wasn’t tied on. Sheldon: He has as much chance as a snowball in hell. Arnie:  He’s pissing against the wind. Sheldon: Just a spit in the ocean. Arnie: Well, doesn’t that beat the band. Mel: Be my guest. Arnie:  Can you beat that? Sheldon: Can’t complain. Arnie:  Doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun. Sheldon: Who pulled your chain?  Arnie: Yeah, clear as mud. Mel: You haven’t got the brains you were born with. Arnie: Cool it. Sheldon: Heads I win, tails you lose. Arnie: Cross my heart and hope to die. Sheldon: It’s curtains. Arnie: Do it, or else. Sheldon: Does a bear shit in the woods? Arnie: That and a nickel will get you on the subway. Sheldon: Close but no cigar. Mel: You know what time it is? Half past a cow’s ass. Arnie: Same to you. Sheldon: What a crock! Arnie: Your mother goes down for wooden nickels. Sheldon: Your mother! Arnie: Age before beauty. Sheldon: All dressed up and nowhere to go. Mel: Doozie pots. Arnie: You know what. Sheldon: What?  Arnie: That's what.

2 responses to ““Nature to Advantage Dress’d”: Polite Conversation in the P.S.217 Schoolyard, c. 1955”

  1. Not so much about conversation in the schoolyard…but about betting. My 1st exposure to gambling was in the small schoolyard when the largest kid at 217 offered us odds on any 3 major league baseball players of our own picking to get a combined 6 hits that particular day. Naturally a lot of our lunch money went on players like Williams, Musial, DiMaggio, Mays, Robinson, etc. The real smart money tho went on contact hitters like Schoendienst, Ashburn, Dark, Kell, Nellie Fox, et al. If by chance you happened to “hit”, the real challenge was now collecting from the aforementioned “biggest kid at 217″…there was indeed some dialogue there! (LOL)

  2. DiMaggio and Williams and Musial were contact hitters, those rare guys who could hit for power but rarely strike out. I don’t understand why the “smart money” didn’t go on them. Ashburn was a contact hitter, all right, but his batting averages were consistently lower than Williams’, Musial’s, and Joe D’s. I do not understand. Or was the point of the bet to lose so that the winner would not have to collect from the big guy?

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