This boy would be in his 40s now, but back in 1983, his top priority was honing his soccer skills in the old section of Tegucigalpa, Honduras. These days, he might be more inclined to simply hang this ornament from his Christmas tree.
Goodness, that’s no jolly, happy soul! Where’s the corncob pipe and button nose and two eyes that don’t look demonic?
Out of context, this does seem like an odd (if not clearly amateurish) sign to hang in front of a gift shop. However, the town is named Dripping Springs, and folks just call it Drippin’. We passed through it yesterday, and it made my heart warm. I just love seeing people hanging Christmas decorations; it’s that one fleeting moment where everyone is preparing for the holiday that we know will end in the blink of any eye. So for now, just enjoy the season!
Shove The Sombero On The Bulldog is a variant of the common child’s party game, wherein a cowgirl chases down a … Dear God, I don’t know what they’re doing. These images from 1949 raise more questions than they answer.
Like why would you park your jalopy on steps?
And is she kneeling in prayer, cursing the car’s engine or praising the argyle socks of a would-be beau?
Why hasn’t anyone prebussed this table? I see some empties.
Why don’t men wear ties like this anymore? And why does the one on the lower left look like Viewmaster reels?
What did Hiram do to deserve such bevy of beauty adoration? Is his thigh numb now?
And why would Bart and Molly bother with a “pretzel battle” at the fall barn party?
I think that makes them married, in some countries.
Time was, when hats were jaunty, and fellas would tilt a brim to the brink of audaciousness. Who could resist the power of this hombre in particular, gathered among his fellow American Institute of Mining and Metallurgy Engineers?
Brian Cranston evidently bored our dogs to tears this morning.
Tonto couldn’t stop yawning.
Gabriel and Maria were privy to the final moments before Deanne went ballistic on poor, inept Gladys, wrestling her to the ground and yelling, “It’s tinsel, Gladys, not a beaded curtain!”
And Gladys never did tinsel again.
I Don't Get It 