This 1933 ad for Budweiser is so colorfully delicious, that I almost forgot my many encounters with the “King of Bottled Beer” and the inherent mehness it consistently offers. My Bud experience has ne’er entailed a sunbursting orchestra as fancy dancers trip the light fantastic. Then again, 1933 was the year that the 21st Amendment to the Constitution was ratified, ending national Prohibition. Any ale tastes good after 14 years of illicit backwoods hooch.
He’s got the pen, so he must be doling it out, but what is it? His digits? A prescription for antibiotics to treat an itchy rash? The name of a Sicilian hit man to take care of some unpleasant business? A list of television networks at the time?
Even before annoying ringtones and bright-screened smart phones, movie theaters could still be a wretched placed to spend two hours of your life. There were legs behind your seat that would kick you. Chatty people who didn’t know when to shut up. Babies. What moron brings a human under three years old to a movie theater? The late arrivals squeezing past you (and late means ANYONE ARRIVING AFTER 15 MIN PRIOR TO THE MOVIE). No arm room (the fella appears to be elbowing a man in plaid). The sound of popcorn being crunched in an adjacent person’s mouth. Slurping. And fart clouds. Always fart clouds.
and Blitzen Blitzed.
Secret Ingredient Used Later
I Don't Get It 