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Subject:Re: backformations - the last word From:"Sandy, Corinne" <CHS8 -at- CPSOD1 -dot- EM -dot- CDC -dot- GOV> Date:Wed, 21 Dec 1994 08:22:00 EST
"How I met my wife"
Bravo. Point made (and hilarious to boot)!
To: Multiple recipients of list TECHWR-L
Subject: backformations - the last word
Date: Tuesday, December 20, 1994 4:30PM
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Reply-To: Katie Henry x3432 <khenry -at- AUSTIN -dot- ASC -dot- SLB -dot- COM>
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From: Katie Henry x3432 <khenry -at- AUSTIN -dot- ASC -dot- SLB -dot- COM>
Subject: backformations - the last word
Comments: To: techwr-l -at- vm1 -dot- ucc -dot- okstate -dot- edu
To: Multiple recipients of list TECHWR-L <TECHWR-L -at- OSUVM1 -dot- BITNET>
Monty=Wilson%Comm=Prod%PCPD=Hou -at- bangate -dot- compaq -dot- com wrote:
: >As for dodgy prefixes on words that confuse people, I'm sure we've had
: >the conversation about gruntled post office workers who felt dignant?
Here is a neat work that uses "chelant". Great stuff.
"How I met my wife" by Jack Winter
Published 25 July 1994 - The New Yorker
It had been a rough day, so when I walked into the party I was very chalant,
despite my efforts to appear gruntled and consolate.
I was furling my wieldy umbrella for the coat check when I saw her standing
alone in a corner. She was a descript person, a woman in a state of total
array. Her hair was kempt, her clothing shevelled, and she moved in a
I wanted desperately to meet her, but I knew I'd have to make bones about
it since I was travelling cognito. Beknownst to me, the hostess, whom I
could see both hide and hair of, was very proper, so it would be skin off
my nose if anything bad happened. And even though I had only swerving
loyalty to her, my manners couldn't be peccable. Only toward and heard-of
behavior would do.
Fortunately, the embarrassment that my maculate appearance might cause was
evitable. There were two ways about it, but the chances that someone as
flappable as I would be ept enough to become persona grata or a sung hero
were slim. I was, after all, something to sneeze at, someone you could
easily hold a candle to, someone who usually aroused bridled passion.
So I decided not to risk it. But then, all at once, for some apparent
reason, she looked in my direction and smiled in a way that I could make
heads or tails of.
I was plussed. It was concerting to see that she was communicado, and it
nerved me that she was interested in a pareil like me, sight seen.
Normally, I had a domitable spirit, but, being corrigible, I felt
capacitated--as if this were something I was great shakes at--and forgot
that I had succeeded in situations like this only a told number of times.
So, after a terminable delay, I acted with mitigated gall and made my way
through the ruly crowd with strong givings.
Nevertheless, since this was all new hat to me and I had no time to prepare
a promptu speech, I was petuous. Wanting to make only called-for remarks,
I started talking about the hors d'oeuvres, trying to abuse her of the
notion that I was sipid, and perhaps even bunk a few myths about myself.
She responded well, and I was mayed that she considered me a savory
character who was up to some good. She told me who she was. "What a
perfect nomer," I said, advertently. The conversation become more and more
choate, and we spoke at length to much avail. But I was defatigable, so I
had to leave at a godly hour. I asked if she wanted to come with me. To
my delight, she was committal. We left the party together and have been
together ever since. I have given her my love, and she has requited it.