Let’s Make Mary.
Ah, the joy of a pun–from “making merry” and having fun, to “Let’s Make Mary” have non-consensual sex! Who wouldn’t enjoy a book about how to pressure a woman into intimacy?
Amazon still sells the book of eight easy lessons with various covers (unexpurgated, which means offensive). I’m a pretty anti-PC dame myself, but that first cover is horrendous. I can’t imagine what’s inside.
As you can well see, we are less than a month until All Western Days. I realize we are in a bit of pandemic pickle as of late, but I see no reason to cancel every event everywhere, especially if it proves to be ripsnortin’. Don’t let it put a hitch in your giddyup.
I may have conquered using apps on a smart phone or removing jams from testy copy machines, but the technology of yore frightens me. I don’t get it now, and I certainly wouldn’t have gotten in back in 1955, at the University of Colorado.
Nope. Too many wires.
Next up: isotopes. Haven’t talked about proton/neutron stuff since high school, and I’m not gonna start now.
She is clearly steering a cardboard ship, but I know not what the men do.
Too many black holes and knobs in the cube. It doesn’t even fit in my pocket.
Get a load of this jet engine compressor! I’d rather feed a porcupine.
Rapture, take me now.
Maria was a friend of Lavelle, owner of this yearbook, and fellow participant in Spanish Lab, where Maria is shown assessing a skirt below.
Evidently Lavelle’s classmates took their language skills seriously. Babs even included it in her yearbook greeting.
Stoddard Hall was where the senior girls lived; this was at Texas State College for Women, so there were no men. However, the next entry contradicts the prior, assuming she would indeed move to Stoddard.
I do hope they were able to meet up 50 years later, and party like it was 1999, as it would have been.
This final entry confirms that Lavelle did indeed intend to live in Stoddard, that she was a grand cooker of eggs, and a good listener as Phyllis “Phil-eyes” droned on incessantly about Jimmy. Muy bueno!