Woot woot! So much zippered orange glory in this shot!
Trucker hat + aviator glasses + mustache = awesome
But awesome doesn’t last forever. Witness the power of the fumble to humble.
Now what do I do with this cowbell?
Category: Nostalgia
Fifty Years Old
Happy 50th birthday to Molly Shannon, who really does turn 50 years old today! She used to crack me up in her Saturday Night Live (SNL) Sally O’Malley sketches, as a limber 50-year-old woman kicking and stretching, proud of her age and agility. She would hike her pants up to her ribcage without shame.
That’s Molly Shannon in a nutshell. Shameless. Fearless. You remember her jumping backwards into folding chairs when she played Mary Catherine Gallagher?
Please don’t be one of those people who said they stopped watching SNL in the 80s. There are always funny skits; you just have to wait it out during the 3 total shows they do each year and the 49 reruns they show. If there wasn’t any talent, it wouldn’t have lasted since 1975. There wouldn’t be a Portlandia today. No Bill Murray, pointing his finger at me, telling me I’m awesome. And I, for one, don’t want to imagine a world without Will Ferrell.
So happy birthday, Molly Shannon. I hope you and your husband of a decade, Fritz Chestnut (oh, that’s a good one for the Blog of Funny Names), have a lovely day! You are a SUPERSTAR!
Hold Me Closer, Nazi Dancer
No, It Is Not A Censored Bosom
Frosty Days In The Texas Hill Country
Hooray! For the first time since May, the temperature got below 90 degrees! It was in the SIXTIES this morning. I’m wearing a 3/4 length sleeve! Who knew putting on more clothes could be so liberating? In addition, we got 27 drops of rain, more than most of summer. I think I see a puddle!
The Case For Coffin Nails And Lung Darts
Smoking looks pretty fantastic in ads of yore. I may need to rethink my vices. Toweling off never looked so exhilarating.
Have you ever seen a more fetching football ensemble? It even has a place to hold her smokes. She’s ready to toss an entire carton your way.
These guys are the picture of good health. If they can smoke Camels and protect our liberty, shouldn’t you?
The problem at Christmastime is discerning which Santa to heed. 
Too tough to decide? In any event, Chesterfield makes a pretty good case for evening winding-down. I could curl up inside that window into 1936. Let’s just hope she doesn’t fall asleep with the butt still burning.
Judy, Judy, Judy*
*Though often attributed to him, Cary Grant never actually said, “Judy, Judy, Judy” in any movie. Evidently it was another lesser-known actor, who was greeting Judy Garland while doing his Cary Grant impersonation, who said it.
Cruising With The Kuklapolitan Players
The ad says this gay cruise has gentle trade winds, but I imagine there was more rough trade than gentle.
Places To Go, People To See, Part III
Look, honey, there on the horizon–rich folk!
Not in the mood for a skin-damaging tan and a romp in the sun? Try exciting Canada!
“Treasures! Uncrowded!” Uncrowded? Is that the best selling point? I suggest:
Canada–get your prescriptions here!
You Americans can’t travel that far north? How about tropical Wisconsin? The sun literally bleached the brown out of her hair, and it will bleach the germs off you, including pesky ebola. If that’s not enough incentive, you can enjoy moderately-priced food!
Well, that’s enough travel for me. Dick and Jane bottle-feeding a fawn is cuteness overload. A full-page ad for Wisconsin and they didn’t even use the word “cheese”!
Places To Go, People To See, Part II
I thought Arizona was a desert, but I hear it’s flooding right now.
When I think of Arizona, I don’t think of lush, verdant fields and crops, much less apple trees. But that’s only because they never showed that on episodes of Alice, set in Phoenix in the 1970s.
This, however, is just as I imagine New Mexico would be, assuming both the feather-spangled Indian/Native American and conquistador are ethereal ghosts of the pasts.
Speaking of deserts in 1950s travel brochures, this, of course, was Vegas and poolside ping pong. But if you prefer to stay dry…
Are you up for a ghost town visit? It looks dusty and hot. And what about the Chinese Joss House? Have you ever heard of such a thing?
But this Ramona Room I could do. Happy hour drink specials? Air-conditioning? Tropical dancing and serenading? That I could definitely do.
Highkicking It Old School, Majorette Style
According to the World Baton Twirling Federation, baton twirling is a sport involving the manipulation of a metal rod with the hands and body to a co-coordinated routine. Many moons ago, soldiers would twirl rifles as they marched in parades. As the activity progressed, a rifle twirler moved to the front to get the party started. To keep from accidentally shooting onlookers, rifles made way for batons, rods made from hollow light metal with light rubber ends, balanced to give accuracy to the twirler.
Once the batons were lightened and balanced, the weaker sex could finally lift them into the air with her small muscles. Short skirts and high-stepping routines assured that males would watch as they pranced. These guys don’t seem to mind the view.
By 1940, men were resigned to the back row. But why are their hats so tall? Did they store their lunches in them? A Frenchman could hide both a baguette and a bottle of merlot in there. I find them oddly reminiscent of the minions of the Wicked Witch of the West.
Senior Class Officers
I Don't Get It 