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This Comparison is Really Odious

At parties I’m never
Resplendent or clever;
My wit doesn’t flicker;
When it comes to liquor ,
I hold myself rationed
To just one old- fashioned .
If it’s questions-and-answers ,
I hunt out the danoers
To be asked when my prancing
was over termed dancing.

So I pick out a girl
Everyone is ignoring
To find out, too late,
It ‘s my hostess I’m boring.

Then in whirs the Wit
Who knows Just what to say;
He is twice-effervescent,
And evor so gay.
He can’t hold a Job–
Or a wifo; and he owes
The Butcher, the Baker.
The wild oats he sows!
He is lacking in character,
Lazy as sin;
And he has lost count
Of the scrapes he’s been in.
Revolting? I’ll say–yet I envy the smarty
The night he turns up as the life of the partyl

by Ray Romine Sunday, January 16, 1949

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Submissions / Sales

Media name: Saturday Evening Post

Date Submitted: 07/13/1950


Media name: Collier's

Date Submitted: 07/28/1950


Media name: DAC News

Date Submitted: 08/07/1950


Media name: New Yorker

Date Submitted: 09/12/1950


Media name: New York Times Magazine

Date Submitted: 09/30/1950


Media name: New York Journal American

Date Submitted: 10/10/1950


Media name: New York Herald Tribune

Date Submitted: 11/18/1950


Media name: Cleveland Plain Dealer

Date Submitted: 11/15/1950