This tree surely could provide a lot of wood. It reminds me of when I was little and read The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein. The tree gave himself for the little boy, until it was only a stump. I sobbed just like Tracy Morgan (pre-accident) here.
April 16, 1951. Life magazine showcases 26-year-old Bill Hipkiss, a bridgeman on a “raising gang,” fitting steel into place. A steelworker for 9 years, this was his first bridge, for which he was paid $2.80/hr with double overtime. Add this to the list of jobs I would never consider doing.
That’s a bunch of words that make my head hurt.
This is unsafe? Building a bridge is unsafe. I hope they had workers’ compensation.
What about you? Does this kind of risky work appeal to your nature? Are you an adrenaline junkie? Would you make sure to apply sunscreen to your face before going out each morning?
…but that’s okay, because these swell fellows are here to help!
They’ll show you the coma-inducing murals of the Engineering Lounge.
They’ll show you the latest highwater styles.
And they’ll introduce you to their frat buddies.
Let the networking commence!
When it comes to housework, men often don’t pay attention to details. They’re busy dealing with man-sized problems at the office. That’s why they married you in the first place, to deal with domestic issues. But even Mr. Henderson can see that his wife’s laundering skills simply don’t measure up to Kay’s Tide-fresh linens. It’s as plain as the tie pin on his tie.
And if Kay has the cleanest wash, that can only mean that Mrs. Henderson does not. Why can’t she get it together? Doesn’t Mr. Henderson deserve a clean blue oxford shirt to wear to work? Is it too much to ask of his inept sad sack of a spouse?
Mrs. Henderson is flustered, losing her mind over the sight of Kay’s sexy and fresh negligee, blowing in the breeze. Why can’t she measure up? Uh-oh, better get Miltown.
Way to go, Kay; you’ve destroyed another marriage with your laundry hubris.
You can bet Dad takes coffee breaks at his office job, so why not Mom? After all, nothing tastes or smells as good as coffee. Before happy hour, that is. And Mom works super hard.
“Such a mellow, bracing drink.” Yes, that’s exactly how I feel about it. Just like invigorating sea air.
You know, before there was texting or internet or TV after 10pm, America had a lot of time on its hands. Time to read 500-word ads on products they already used. And they appreciated informational tidbits that didn’t require an encyclopedia.
Yep, that’s exactly how happy blonde senoritas dressed as they picked coffee beans, in off-the-shoulder frocks and matching handkerchiefs. Apple-pickers set the precedent back in the 1940s. See for yourself how put-together this lady is. Why, even her roots look good!
I better start accessorizing when I go rip figs off our tree out back. I’ve really dropped the ball on that one.
I Don't Get It 