Germans Or Japs, Storms Or Ice
Category: 1940s
Commando Training 1943
All Aboard The NiteCoach
I’m afraid you couldn’t pay me to board a Greyhound bus in 2014. Flying economy on Delta last week was enough to enforce that I am not a woman of means, and sharing a bus (other than perhaps Jake Owen’s tour bus) would be insult to injury.
But seventy years ago, I might have been game. The lady caressing her head above looks satisfied. Okay, perhaps quarters were cramped. Five bucks said she hit her head on that dome light more than once.
But I’m certain the porter kept the pillows fluffed. Pretty snazzy uniform if you ask me.
And take a gander at the streamlined style of the double-decker transportation. Jed Clampett (on the far right) seems impressed.
Fight The Powers That Be
(in a peaceful, non-threatening way)
Your Penmanship Is Atrocious
Joyride
Body Language
Blister Patcher-Upper
Crepe Paper Streamer Tomfoolery
Everyone is having a great time, except for that girl, who seems to be politely tolerating the gaiety. What’s her problem?
Mad For Plaid
Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me
Was this the designated kissing spot? Out in plain view, for all the world to see? There must have been some mistletoe in the vicinity. Actually, this couple was getting “officially pinned.”
Time’s up! Couple number two, take your turn.
Once the war was over, they started making up for lost time. The lifted left foot is always a nice touch.
This next couple somehow missed the mark. Practice makes perfect!
You’re The One That I Font
One thing I lack on my po’ person’s WordPress theme is the ability to change font (or the skill to access it). But if I had a genie and three wishes, one would be to sleep seven magical hours without changing positions at twelve minute intervals and/or pee out water I drank way back at 8pm, and then the second might be to imbibe endless ice-cold bubbly Cokes (with the perfect syrup to CO2 ratio) without harm to my stomach lining or causing inflammation, but surely the third one would be to have a blog with this sweet-a$$ font, which I would call (of course): Jack’s Barber Shop. I hate that I can’t type that in the actual JBS font. Curses!
Most of us didn’t give much thought to font when we were young, but nowadays, it can change everything. Perhaps you’ve witnessed the hate crimes against poor Comic Sans?
And this lesser viewed one…
Fortunately, a new font was created.
Yeah, that’s pretty swank, and most everyone loves lemon (or a glass of limoncello). But the reality is that lemonade stands are not lucrative. No one knows his neighbor these days. That nasty diluted dixie cup of Country Time might be poisoned like Jonestown Kool-Aid. So thanks, but no, thanks.
Instead, you’re all invited to my tavern (it’s two blocks down, just past the Walgreen’s), and tonight we’ll serve $3 pints of Shiner Bock and mojitos until we run out. Or whatever it is your state enjoys…
If you live in Canada, chances are high that you’re enjoying Molson Canadian (ahem? freedom of choice? diversity?). We’ll keep some cold for you.
And if PERHAPS you live on Fantasy Island where all the words have K’s in them, you may find yourself on this craft beer snob map–although it is impossible to read because you are, after all, made up of teensy tiny islands.
The Wurlitzer jukebox still offers four plays for a buck, and if you are Fonzie and know the sweet spot, you can get your selections gratis. We have a Happy Hour special on raspberry chipotle buffalo wings (with ranch, blue cheese, carrots, AND celery), cooked by my husband, and my famous crispy pepper bacon brownies. The early bird gets the worm. And when you have to use the restroom, it’s to the left, down past the pinball machines and Mrs. Pac-Man. Use the door for your gender (Jack or Jill), both written in Jack’s Barber Shop font. See you tonight!
I Don't Get It 