From what I gather, a “sponsor” was like the head of the pep squad. Betty Greer (“origin of the pep”) had maids, all with modern bobbed hair. But it doesn’t sound like she sponsored in the sense of providing funds. Although–props for your nice pearls and mink stole, Betty. 
And here are the boys for whom they cheered. These youthful guys, born at the turn of the century, long gone.
Most of their kids are probably gone, too. But Berton’s hair lives on forever.
Here we see some high school class officers. The XY-gene carriers all appear fairly normal. But Norma–Norma appears to have some botched surgery. I can’t quite figure it out. Clearly a female body was present for the photo, but then someone shrunk her head a la Beetlejuice, or took a head from another pic and pushed it inside the hair. Or do you suppose her head is just oddly petite? I don’t get it.
You’ve seen the mustache. You’ve seen the melting clock, the one that looks like a bad acid trip. The evidence is already there.
But this is another level of crazy. I don’t mean mental illness. Although, yes, perhaps that. I mean stranger than fiction. Here we see Dalí in a Johnny Depp bob, seated near his wife, Gala. Gala was already in an open marriage when she met Dalí, but decided to divorce her then-husband, poet Paul Eluard, yet continued to sleep with him while now married to Dalí. Yes, that makes sense.
Anyhoo, that’s a Hereford bull sprawled on the crumpled carpet of Mrs. Caresse Phelps Crosby, herself involved in an open marriage (and suicide pact, not to mention ample drug abuse and writing porn as a lark). Crosby, preparing for a ball one night, despised her corset and instead fashioned two handkerchiefs and ribbon into a bra with needle and thread. Of this she said, “I can’t say the brassiere will ever take as great a place in history as the steamboat, but I did invent it.”
Speaking for most American women, I couldn’t care less about a steamboat. But I thank you for the bras.
Just in case that surrealist scene isn’t odd enough, try to wrap your head around this. Per www.telegraph.co.uk, Dalí filled up a white Rolls Royce Phantom II with 500kg of cauliflower and drove it from Spain to Paris in December 1955. The reasoning was, he later told an audience of 2,000, that “everything ends up in the cauliflower!” He explained to American journalist Mike Wallace three years later that he was attracted to their “logarithmic curve.” Because that makes sense.
And listverse.com tells of a five-year-old Dalí pushing his friend off a bridge with no railing. Just for fun. Dalí is also noted as saying, “Hitler turned me on in the highest…His fat back, especially when I saw him appear in the uniform with the Sam Browne belt and shoulder straps that tightly held in his flesh, aroused in me a delicious gustatory thrill originating in the mouth and affording me a Wagnerian ecstasy.”
And if that doesn’t turn Dalí off to you forever, I don’t know what could. Enjoy your weekend.
It’s hard to effectively capture an image of nighttime rainfall, but this pic from the ’73 Indiana University yearbook did a nice job. It’s the kind of shot that sets a mood and makes you want to write a short story.
Here’s the Von Lee on a frosty winter’s day.
And check this one out, during heavy rainfall. I’d want to get my feet out of that oily water.
This one from http://www.brosher.com is priceless. Sunset practically explodes behind the Von Lee. Gorgeous.
Isn’t this a great image, so full of action and gratitude? Mrs. Hale, the wife of a British soldier, is shown offering troops tea and refreshments in front of her home, as a show of military support while her husband fought in France. After tea, if she was up to it, she was known to play a little accordion.
And sometimes, when you extend a kindness to others, they will pay it forward.
Before there were Walgreen’s on every corner (and I mean EVERY; there are FOUR Walgreen’s within a 10 minute drive of my home), there were Walgreen Agency Stores. Over the past decade, I have watched them pop up every couple of miles, wishing I had invested money in their stock way back when. Myself, I hit a Walgreen’s a couple times a week, whether for Loreal haircolor, dollar cans of Arizona green tea, a six-pack of Blue Moon, or a BOGO set of Russell Stover dark chocolates. Plus, that’s where our doctors send all the prescriptions that we never use because they’re worthless dung. But drugs aside, it’s way faster than the grocery store, and I don’t have to push a cart. Is there a Walgreen’s in your neck of the woods?
This method looks like it leaves a lot of room for error. Did any of you ever pop popcorn in the hearth this way? Did it taste better than microwave?
I Don't Get It 