At least he looks comfortable, no? The other fella seems pure-D zoned out.
Here’s another pic of students sitting near the steps. They have all chosen to keep their knees together, like ladies do.
We jump from 1942 to 1956 to another group of seated students. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. Who is to blame?
This last seated guy–tapping away on his typewriter–appears to be getting all the propers, while Sally (far right) looks on. What a headline, Georgie Boy! Fan-tastic!
Okay, so it doesn’t look like Papa Joe Jackson (RIP), but it absolutely looks like Holly Hunter circa “Raising Arizona” (desperately in need of some sun). However, it’s just teachers chaperoning a high school dance. Thank God THIS teacher put on a happy face for the dance.
Do you remember those AWFUL cheap plastic cups? Yikes.
Take a look at the students. Do these look like the kind of kids that even NEED chaperoning?
Of course they do! Poor Midget…
You won’t find a pay phone in a high school these days.
I think this last one is my favorite.
What a sexy Travolta!
Silly ginger, don’t ruin your supper by eating dessert first!
The RCA Whirlpool fridge is so accessible, crafty gingers easily figure out how to eject ice at the touch of a button. And they’ll have plenty of time to do it, since they are excluded from many extra-curriculars.
Such violence toward gingers! I don’t get it.
Happy Birthday, Jane Russell!
And the award for best illustration of ale with squirrels, accordions, and ascots goes to…
Schlitz! Y’all, this ad did its job. It actually makes me wants Schlitz, despite the fact that I would never order a 4.6% ABV beer because that’s just wasting my time. My mouth tells me to rebuke the “Schlitzness” but my eyes say “Carry on, my wayward daughter.”
Seriously, tell me, doesn’t this look like more fun than a barrel of monkeys?
This kiddo wishes he were ANYWHERE but under the tree with these losers. Perhaps he’s upset because he received a Norma pencil.
At least these parents know how to make their daughter’s Christmas a bright one.
I’d think you could use that pram for a real baby, no?
But the best gift by far is always a car. Especially if it’s a Cadillac.
It’s Stevens Twist Twill, lest ye forget. The red lion. And just in case you’re not familiar with twill, it’s a fabric with ridges. It’s the Ruffles of the material world.
You know how people these days looooove to say how important it is to “start a dialog” about things? How necessary it is for them to “start the conversation”? It makes me want to wretch, that kind of speech. So let’s just have a chit-chat about these manufacturer names, shall we? First off: Jack Tar Togs, that’s brilliant. It sounds like the mascot for a little league team. Go, Jack Tar Togs!
Hit Em Hard seems aggressive, but the list includes many manly names like Big Dad and 5 Brother (forget 5 Sister) and Stur-Dee. Sounds super reliable, right? But then others are more vexing. Pool’s is “swetpruf”? What is that about? That’s not even phonetically-spelled.
It reminds me of Farmer Jack’s advertising ploy. But he does it on PURPOSE. Or purrpuss, shall I say?
And as for Tuf-Nut? Yikes. I’ll take your word for it.
Such a fun opening riff, a soft and easy California feeling. Chewin’ on a piece of grass, walking’ down the road…
Then Jorge stops his strumming to assert that there is no actual Ventura Highway, only Ventura County. But Otilia (the older, haggard woman in the back whose hair is struggling to flee her scalp while she strums the hammock strings) says, “No seas tonto, Jorge” and explains that the actual song was about a young boy standing on the side of the road while his dad changed a flat tire. Get with the program, Jorge. Common knowledge.
Maybe it wasn’t actually Nancy Culp from The Beverly Hillbillies. Did she even play classical guitar? She clearly hated doublenecked guitars.
And while she gained notoriety playing a spinster, she was actually married for 10 years. Per wikipedia, one reviewer said she had the “face of a shriveled balloon, the figure of a string of spaghetti, and the voice of a bullfrog in mating season.” Perhaps that’s a bit harsh. Ribbit.
I saw this pic and immediately thought of the 1947 poem:
Hold steady to grandma, lest she fall down
Let grass stains stay clear of her three button gown
‘Twill not be flattering should she choose to go prone
Give up the ghost, and leave Grandpa alone
But what of Aunt Doris who clings to the wrist
Of my sweet Cousin Lois who dare not resist
For fear that the lips of Doris get flubbery
As she sobs while Uncle Jim hides behind shrubbery
Has he donned trousers? Hast thou the knowledge?
He only had two years at community college
He lettered in arm wrestling; his grip was quite strong
To his daughter Eleanor, the gene passed along
And now she stands confident, with nary a frown
Holding steady to grandma, lest she fall down.
I Don't Get It 