7-Up Mixers - Christmas in (almost) July.

Christmas alert now, from your pals at P.A.G! Just 179 shopping days 'till Christmas, everybody! So, hurry up and get in line now for that must-have electric thingy that your spoiled kid simply must have or the world will pay the price! Sharpen your elbows and put on your heaviest shoes for some lip-splitting, victim-trampling action as Wal-Mart raises the portcullis on another shrieking horde of holiday well-wishers! Better idea: have a drink and relax.

This ad was lovingly scanned from the December, 1957 issue of Esquire magazine in which 7-Up themselves encourage you to drink alcohol! We'll pause a moment while your monocle falls into your tea in slow motion as you gasp in horror...(sploink).

Yes, it was a swinginger time in '57. A company could recommend mixed drinks being enjoyed in a sensible manner without fear of being sued out of solvency by scandalized puritans. Look at those happy chaps in their waistcoats and crewcuts. Do they look like they're planning to disassemble society with a belly full of Seven and Whiskey?

Anyhoo, maybe these toasters could be used in some kind of party invitation or drinks menu or something? If only some hero would lift them from their ad and paint out that pesky text so we could give this graphic something else to do. Wait! I've got it! Phil Are GO! Graphic Blandishment and Photoshoppery Squad, ASSEMBLE!!!

Bam! there you go. Don't say I never gave you nothing this morning. Get your rude finger ready to right click these sensible imbibers onto your hard drive in three, two, one, right click! You're welcome.

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Couple of Captions - Breaking it to them.

Joke #1 - "Whoops! The court will excuse me while I apologize to the gentleman behind me. I do believe I have a touch of The Vapors."

Joke #2 - "Can anyone in the court tell me where I can get a Typhoid injection? I have just gotten off a carriage from the New York."

Joke #3 - The defending attorney let out a heavy sigh. It was Miss Peacock for the prosecution. This case would be nothing but candlesticks and conservatories for weeks. That was her answer to everything.

Joke #1 - "Hello. Charlie. My name is Theodore. I'm.... I'm your real father. The father you knew was just a basset hound that wandered into the barn. I understand you're probably a bit upset by this, but I ask you to try and understand and not to bite me or pee on me. Of course, you'll feel the need to howl a bit. Anyone would."

Joke #2 - "I'm sorry, Charlie, but we still can't find the gang that stole the red or blue from your house. We did find some M, Y, and K hidden in a warehouse, but that was a few towns away, and they live in a totally different color gamut there."

Joke #3 - "Son, there's a woman here who claims to be your wife. Just how long has this been going on? Also, since when are you a fully grown man? You're grounded."

Joke #4 - "I'm sorry, Charlie. It doesn't look good. I'm afraid you've caught an especially virulent strain of 'marriage'. There's nothing I can do, so I guess I'll just bring her in."


Kooking Kornir - Lord of the frys.

Hello, savages! It's summertime, and that means serving up your stickiest, drippiest dishes right in your own fire pit! Today we're going to have our own little barbaric luau featuring an adorable pig effigy that your little band of castaways can fight over, as if it were the last food they'd ever see! I have the conch shell, so shut up and listen, you sillies!

Start by running a nice hot bath for your pig... a bath of some kind of soup, I mean! Gumbo or Mulligatawny will do, as long as it has lots of chunks in it. Be sure your "bathtub" is big enough to accommodate one dirty little four pound piggy. Someone needs a wash... in gravy!

Piggy can be made from almost any castoffs from the butcher's counter. We made his body from a beef heart. His head is a giblet, and his legs are chicken drumsticks and wings, cleverly arranged to look just like an unhappy porker. Dig a hole in the sand and line the bottom with charcoal or a bowl of gasoline, or both! Light it up, and when things are nice and hot, in goes piggy, wrapped in tinfoil.

You'll be hard pressed to keep your little tribe of natives at bay long enough for piggy to cook fully, so keep them from eating each other by serving up some beans, yams, fruit and all your heaviest summertime fare, fit for a full day of backyard fun in the blazing sun. But don't let them forget the real star of the show! This little piggy will go "whee whee whee" all the way home... IN YOUR STOMACH, hahahaha!

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Crosley Appliances - The opiate of the masses.

Another berzerkfully happy ad now from Crosley, to brighten your morning, and possibly give you bad dreams. You're welcome!

"Holy shit, family! It's the new line of 1949 Crosley appliances! If I don't sprint on down to the Crosley dealer right away, ignoring all traffic laws, I'll kill myself! When I arrive, I will demand to be sold the entire line of Crosley products! I cannot believe how happy I am!

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Come, family! Let us gather in the driveway and have an unreasonably happy Crosley parade! Make no mention of Grandmother's hip! She must also march in the parade! My life without Crosley is a hollow, filthy lie!  Everyone must know how wonderful Crosley is! Sing! Sing of Crosley! Sing or I will destroy you myself!

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Portrait-Craft Oil Painting Kit - Painting Bad.

Sir or madam,

Imagine yourself or a loved (for now) one preserved in a genuine oil painting. Painted by you! Also, as an older version of his- or herself... maybe addicted to Methamphetamine! Also zombie! With no experience needed!

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Send only $9.95 and any size sharp, clear snapshot or color slide to receive a "Portrait" "Kit" which will show you how to add years to the age of the subject, hollow out the eye sockets, withdraw the flesh of the face, and give your child or foster-creature that  "strung-out streetwalker with nowhere else to turn" look. Includes alternate painting instructions for "unsettling ghoul" and Steve Buscemi" versions. Or, simply leave unpainted for "leprous apparition" version. Thousands of bemused customers.


Little Ads from your Druggist, 1940 style.

He loves Davidson rubber products so very much, he bought the company. Look for Davidson Rubber products in the seemier parts of town, or at your next key party.

Grove's Tasteless Chill Tonic. Look for "Scary the Baby" on the package! Brought to you by the makers of Dr. Choak's Random Fluid, Grove's Chillless Taste Tonic, and Flavorgone Nothing Powder.

Artificial "Lap" aids in waterboarding of infants who simply refuse to talk.



The Katherine Gibbs Secretarial School - The "good old days".

The ERA and Not Shaving Your Armpits Team dropped this 1949 issue of the Saturday Evening Post on my desk this morning, opened to this article on the Katharine Gibbs School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Secretarial School in New York. The ERA and Not Shaving Your Armpits Team stood there, tapping their toes with their arms folded. The obvious message was that we need to run this article, stat. Aah, the good old days of blind sexism. No they weren't.

"The Katherine Gibbs school has become nationally famous for teaching girls how to dress, make up, take notes - and even spell." reads the opening line of the article. It's hard to tell if the author - "R. Magruder Dobie???" - meant that to sound ironic, or if it actually was a breakthrough that "mere women" were being taught how to spell, just like real humans. In any case, the tone of the article is something to behold. Marvel at the sexism. The article is, yes, a product of it's time. But wow, man. I don't think any school could get away with teaching women about "expectations" while simultaneously teaching women how to put on makeup today. Nor should they. Frikkin stone age. Yes, you could argue that these women wanted to be there, but it's not like you could find a "Katherine Gibbs School of Being a Fireman or Senator and Free Thinker" in 1949.

Hey, check it out! The Katherine Gibbs School is still kicking it, albeit in a less "it's either this or being a housewife" kind of way. They even let guys attend now. See? This lucky fellow is obviously learning the Rick Wakeman style of tech support.

Routers comes out of the sky and they STAAAANNND THEEEERE! Sparkly gold cape awarded upon graduation.

Anyway, we now present to you the full article, including a little part of some article on Peoria at the end, just because it was stuck in there with the tail end of the text.

 Click each for bigger. Please enjoy, somehow.


Satellite Primer

Joke #1 - The NSA's initial proposed 1961 PRISM spying strategy: A small "personal secret concierge" satellite would orbit every human at a distance of three feet. It would record the subject's every action and communicate to the Langley, VA home base via a radio transmitter that made a "virtually undetectable, unobtrusive, really loud buzzing sound". This plan was later scrapped in favor of  a slightly smaller six-pound satellite that could "orbit the subject from within the anus".

Joke #2 - In 1961, NASA launched the Walter Probe. The automated spacecraft led to many scientific discoveries, but was unpopular among the public due to the Walter's downgrade in classification from "a planet" to "just this guy over there" after all the data was analyzed.

Joke #3 - The first space probe designed by a rapper, the "Fo Shizzy Mars-nizzy" probe was fitted with  useless "bling panels", despite being totally nuclear powered. It cost over $6,000,000,000 to build, due to numerous budget overruns, and featured many components "sampled" from previous well-known satellites. Also, it refused to collect or transmit any data because "that's just what The Man wants".

Joke #4 - Progressive Insurance's "Snapshot" program outfits the policyholder with a "Personal Detection Device" that "automatically records your good thinking habits" and "creates a personalized insurance rate based on your every action, behavior, and eye twitch".

Joke #5 comes to us from Anonymous, who, if you really think about it would just type their name with the space bar. That would be really anonymous. Thanks, Anon! - Initially, Bob from NASA was going to veto this particular satellite proposal because he didn't like the fact that it needed a stick to hold it up, and he didn't care for all the "arrows with the words" around it. He thought that gave away too much information. When told that the actual device would be much larger and sent into space, he thought that was a much better idea.
[Commenter jokes will be added to the post.   -Mgmt.]

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Mike Harmon - Something happened in NASCAR that wasn't stupefyingly boring.

In other car-related news, hilarious bumpkin stereotype and NASCAR driver Mike Harmon has been caught stealing trucks and race cars belonging to female NASCAR opponent Jennifer Jo Cobb.

Harmon and Cobb. In revenge for the theft of her vehicles, Cobb stole one of harmon's middle names. Now he must
simply go by "Mikey Jim Bubba Jackie Hambone Harmon".

We promise we did not make that up. Her name is "Jenny Jo Cobb". Yes, you'd think with a name like that, she'd be a classics professor at Yale, but nope, she's a NASCAR driver. Link below...


Another link:

Joke #1 - After local authorities attempted to apprehend Harmon at his Charlotte NC home, he fled the scene and then reportedly led police on a high-speed chase, in a circle, for four hours. Local hillbillies were transfixed.

Joke #2 - He clearly may have eaten one of Cobb's vehicles. Cobb has been quoted as saying that Harmon can keep that one.

Joke #3 - Cobb is also the alleged father of Mike Harmon's upcoming baby.

Joke #4 - After the vehicles were reported missing, police made two lefts and found the stolen vehicles 2.5 miles away.

Joke #5 - After police visited Harmon at his home, he fled the scene on foot. Police then apprehended him by simply waiting for him to circle the block.


2013 Blackhawk Vintage Classic - Part 3

Here's the last batch of photos from the Father's Day race at Blackhawk Farms. Click for big. Enjoy!

Alphas were well represented. This yellow one and the red one
were owned by the same lucky man.

Note to auto makers: please stop making hideous wraparound
headlights shaped like splatters of bird shit. Just go back to
this please.

An eye-wateringly beautiful V12 Jaguar E-Type. Noted
grump and blowhard Jeremy Clarkson called it "possibly
the most beautiful thing ever made". He can't be wrong all the time.
We finally found the camp site of the Gulf Oil Porsche 911. Purdy!

A Lotus Europa. It doesn't come across in the pictures, but
this car is really flat and low. It's around 36 inches tall. The
owner, a six-foot-something Scotsman, says getting in is
tricky, but once you do, it's pretty comfortable.

This Formula Vee had a creamy gold bass boat sparkle that
was a mile deep. It looked like it had been applied with a baby. 

"I been hip-mo-tized!"

Another cool looking Formula Vee.

A pristine BRE Datsun.