word play

This is for those of us who enjoy playing with words - original author unknown to me -

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 gainly way.

I wanted desperately to meet her, but I knew I’d have
to make bones about it, since I was traveling 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

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 head 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 not 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 savoury
character who was up to some good. She told me who she
was. “What a perfect nomer,” I said, advertently. The
conversation became 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

well, that one took me for a short ride. I too was beside myself trying to figure out the meaning of the one thing it was. Laughter sued.