Bulmer's Cider - Apple season.

Maybe your family likes to go out into the crisp autumn air and go apple picking. After the excitement and arguing, bickering and possible whining of taking the family out, you deserve a nice drink of cider. In fact, screw the apples. Just go buy some cider.

Here in America, various kinds of "hard cider" are all the rage in your liquor aisle now, but England has been hep to the jive for some time. This ad for Bulmer's is from 1947, for example. There's an annoying brand I see in the stores a lot now called "Angry Orchard" that, in typical American advertising fashion, has an evil grinning apple tree on the label. Americans can't resist trying to make everything all badass or "extreme", even when it's something that's basically a candy-flavored alternative to beer. The only time Americans seem to exercise a little tasteful restraint is when in comes to tasteful restraint itself.

The English, as always, do it without the shoutiness of a cartoon woodchuck or angry tree. Strongbow comes to mind. Bulmer's has a nice simple label, too. And, as it turns out, they're still around.  Good for them. Cider is pretty yummy. But because of the sweetness, drinking more than one is a bit of a push for me. Still good, though.

Did someone say they need clip art of a guy polishing off a rock glass? No? Well, go and ask everyone until someone says "yes" just to make you go away. Maybe this thirsty dandy can be useful for your next party invitation. Right click him into a nice long nap on your hard drive. You're welcome.

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Fix-it Cat

Joke #1 -  "Darn it, Mr. Piffles, I told you I'll fix you after lunch, now go away."

Joke #2 -  "Saturday Night Live's tenth un-funniest recurring sketch of the nineties: Toonces, The Cat who Could Fix a Radio."

Joke #3 - "Darn it, Mr. Piffles, I want to cut the green wire. Go defuse your own bomb."

Joke #4 - "Darn it, Mr. Piffles, if you don't stop bothering me, we'll never get mother defibrillated."

Joke #5 - "No way. These are mine. Use the wire cutters I got you for Christmas."

Frequent flier Jim D. sent us joke #6. Thanks, Jim! - And at that moment, Mr. Piffles saw the error in letting "I should get a boat" become "I should build a boat."

Also frequent flier Mrs. Bug gave us joke #6. Thanks, Mrs B! - Mr. Piffles: Bob, I'm telling you if you keep cutting those wires, you'll never get that Acme Space Modulator working again. You need to resolder your inputs into the transponder and THEN run the power off that.

[Commenter jokes will be added to the post.  -Mgmt.]

Cutex Coral Ice - Every woman's fantasy....?

Lady stuff news now, from 1957! Listen up. Ladies have weird fantasies, if Cutex's marketing team is to be believed! It's the Late Fifties, persons! That means the Swinging Sixties are just around the corner! Women are becoming more empowered or something, but not really. There's nothing that lights up a girl's imagination like a new color. Have you heard, girls? There's a slightly new shade of pink available! Find a wall and run straight through it to your local drug store shrieking for the new cosmetics or you'll murder everyone in the place!

Every girl's fantasy. A new shade of pink. A reflective krinkly void (probably aluminized Mylar), and a tiny man imprisoned in a block of ice. Am I right, girls? And hat (which I have just been reminded is call a "boater"), designed by "Mr. John".

A guy who calls himself "Mr. John" designs hats? I must have had him confused with the "Mr. John" who spearheaded the engineering team behind the Saturn V rocket, or the other "Mr. John" who composed all those symphonies about valkyries. But nope. Apparently this "Mr. John" was a no-holds-barred hat-designing superpower who took a straw hat, and had the insight to  wrap some pink stripes around it. Thank God you're here, Mr. John. What would humanity do without you? I'm sure your hat designs were among our achievements inscribed on the Voyager golden record.

But back to the weird little scene in this ad. Is the man in the icy tomb supposed to show us that the color of the woman's outfit has turned him on to the extent that he's frozen? I thought fire was supposed to represent sexual ardor. Ice is usually used to symbolize hostility, or lack of affection. Maybe the pink color is supposed to be the only thing cool enough to put this horn dog on ice? Do women want that? Clearly the woman in the ad isn't trying to AVOID men's attention. She's all tarted up in the swimsuit and the revolutionary hat and several pounds of eye makeup. Why would she resent the attention of the guy in the really nice suit? She wants him to want her, and she wants him to be punished for wanting her? She wants him to lust for her, and then she wants him to suffer? Hate and yearning rolled into one poisonous Cinnabon  of confusing misery. Hmm. This ad betrays a pretty effed up portrayal of a woman's fantasies. I'm afraid to admit his is starting to make a lot of sense.

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LaSalle Extension University - The pinchworthy future you deserve.

Career news now, from 1960. The news is this: accounting is where it's at, man! Stop getting hassled by the man and come get a little shagged. Account!

You're sitting there thinking that the ad biz was the only biz where everybody swung and got some sugar under the desk. Nuh-uh. Accounting, baby! Observe this vibrant young go-getter going and getting himself some sweet boob action. See? he can tweak nipples all day long and not get in trouble because The Sixties, baby! Mef, you naughty boy, you're lucky you don't sue yourself for sexual hostile workplace or something. But what am I saying? It's The Sixties! Mef can molest himself all day long and still get a paycheck, because everyone just thought that's how it was. Those were the days.

Become an accountant, for the nipple-pinchingly good career you deserve.

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Elephant Pants - Tailoring: How to Begin

It's been a while since we heard from our old friend The Seventies, so let's catch up with our favorite always-hungry always-sleeping-late good-judgment-having primered-van-with-a-mismatched-door-owning friend to see what's new in The Seventies. Today, let's learn about making your own clothes in 1975!

To look smart, pants must fit properly. The advantage of making pants yourself is that you can adjust them to your body contours, or completely ignore them, for that "my legs are made of traffic cones" look that everyone is simply mad about.
The pattern sheet explains how to fit and construct these basic pants, using an ordinary church bell as a form, in case you can't find a tape measure. Sizes C and E are given on the pattern sheet, so you know where to ignore them. Sizes B, D, and F are also letters, and have not a lot to do with these pants. See the Body Measurements Chart and choose the proper pattern size to disregard by measuring your hip measurement and forgetting all about it.

Under no circumstances should you loan The Seventies money or allow it to get into your car.

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Cooking Kornir - Flesh Paste Puck

Insolent worms! Prepare to accept a satisfying midnight snack solution into your pathetic human brains! Flesh Paste Puck!

If you are like me - and you will be destroyed if you are not - you often find yourself hungry, long after lights out has been declared on your starship! This Flesh Paste Puck satisfies the universal need for pasted flesh as well as your need for pucks! It is delightful or be destroyed!!!

Begin by seeking flesh. On most Sigma-Class Starships, the handiest form of flesh is your insolent First Officer. Seek him amidships, where he foolishly becomes inert and somnolent for many hours per day! Foolish creatures! Never become inert near Oteogg!!!

Depending on your personnel, noise may be an issue during capture! Eliminate this problem with a standard two-hundred gallon Ziploc freezer bag. Such bags are insulated against both noise and fluid leakage, and they come in convenient conqueror-sized multi-packs! It's just good sense, people!

Next, the time has come for the flesh to be pasted! This is most easily accomplished through routine disciplinary measuers, or "questioning". Question your First Officer until he is of a fine and creamy consistency! Collect the flesh paste in a number six officer-sized flesh bucket and slink off to the mess! This is space talk for "kitchen", ignorant readers! Slink off to the kitchen!

Refrigerate your flesh paste in the hard vaccuum of space for several seconds, to thicken the paste for additional firmness! In my experience, this is most easily achieved by sticking your arm out of the ship while holding the number six officer-sized flesh bucket. Seek the airlock! Alternately, you may simply punch your bucket-holding fist through the hull! Fate rewards the resourceful foodie!

Garnish your flesh paste puck with ridiculous vegetable matter that you will never eat, space bugs, and eyeballs. Messily devour the flesh paste puck and return to your resting chamber! You will need your strength to appoint a new First Officer!

Recipe complete! I am Oetogg! I have spoken!

Little Ads - Instant hot water and a camera monster.

Hm. I wonder why this never caught on.

I looked forward to buying all my camera equipment from this terrifying camera-person abomination, but all that's there now is a tandem bicycle: