Sad Dads

I like how you can almost see his junk, but not quite.

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Retro Santa

I was looking at some old photographs the other night when I stumbled across this picture.

moms-santa

You gotta love those plaid slacks I’m wearing.


That is me circa 1970’s with my mom’s Santa doll that she received as a Christmas present when she was a little girl, probably close to 1950 or so.

Every year, my mom takes Santa out of his plastic bag and sets him free. She claims that she can hear him from her closet, ever so faintly, calling to her.

“Get me outta here!”

Who knows? Maybe he does or else my mom is a bit on the wacky side.

Here’s a recent picture of good old Santa Claus.

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I might smell a little but damn I look good for my age!

 

I don’t care if you reek, Santa, just bring me some fuzzy socks and a bottle of white zinfindel.

Do you have any retro Christmas decorations?

Posted in childhood, humor, retro, stories, toys, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 11 Comments

Simon Says

I’m not even going to mention how long it’s been since I posted something here.

Before people played Angry Birds and chased imaginary Pokemon, there was Simon Says.

Here’s two commercials back to back for this obnoxious computerized toy, although I am focusing on the first one from 1980.

Go Johnny, go!

Johnny is like the coolest kid in school because he totally slays at Simon Says.

Step aside, Pinball Wizard, there’s a new guy in town.

But as for me?

I sucked at this game. Bip, boop, bop. Red, green, green, yellow, blue.

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Get bent, you giant microchip.

 

The slogan was “Simon’s a computer, Simon has a brain, you either do what Simon says or else go down the drain.”

I hated Simon. He wasn’t a nice computer, not at all. There was no way that I could keep up with him. He was just way too smart for me, what with all of his blinking colors and shit.

I swear one time while I was playing with him, he told me to go walk the yellow line.

Did you have a Simon Says? Were you able to beat him?

Posted in advertising, funny, humor, nostalgia, retro, toys | Tagged , , , | 6 Comments

Is There Heroin in your Cabinet?

Have a headache? Here, have an aspirin.

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How many people were walking around hooked on heroin back in the day? Plenty.

Tuberculosis and pneumonia were both prevalent 100 years ago and products containing heroin were prescribed for both, amongst other non- life threatening ailments. Heroin was first synthesized by a man named Charles Romley Alder Wright in 1874. He decided after some testing that it wasn’t safe and ditched it.

Felix Hoffman picked it up again for Bayer chemist Heinrich Dreser to mess around with near the turn of the century. He came to the conclusion that it was a miracle drug with no known side effects.

By 1913 there were so many heroin addicts that Bayer was forced to stop making the drug.

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Um, this bottle is expired.

In case you don’t know me, I have chronic pain. I complain about it on my primary blog. It’s a hard life and there really isn’t many options at my disposal.

I would knock myself out with a frying pan, but that would sort of defeat the purpose.

I reluctantly started taking hydrocodone about 3 years ago, but stuck to my rules:

The pain must be at least at a level 7 or above.

I have to be going someplace where I’ll be doing a lot of walking.

Until recently, I had total control over it. The only two things I am addicted to is cigarettes and coffee, so come on doc, give me some pills. I’ll be a good girl.

But I started saying fuck it more often, even though I didn’t really need to take any. I was also taking higher doses because I felt like I deserved to feel good for a change.

And yes, Vicodin does make you feel good, because it is basically synthetic heroin.

I had my “adopted” daughter come visit me last week. I was really grumpy and didn’t feel good, which is normal. I rarely feel well, yet I didn’t meet my criteria for taking a hydrocodone.

I decided that I wanted to have a nice time, so I took 10mg. I don’t ever take that much. I felt like I was rewarding myself somehow. That’s what the drug does to your brain, it tickles the part that brings us pleasure, so it starts to crave it.

Scary shit indeed. I have a bottle of the most dangerous drug in America right now in my kitchen cupboard and the only thing stopping me from taking any is my willpower.

Plus the fact that I don’t want to be a female escort. My rates would be lower because I’m old and fat, but there’s a market.

I haven’t taken one in 5 days and my urge to do so isn’t that strong. I’d like to keep it that way, so I am back to following my rules again.

Addiction is nothing new. We need to all be aware of how easily falling into the trap is. At least unlike the people from a century ago, we know the truth.

Posted in advertising, chronic pain, history, retro, stories, thoughts, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | 24 Comments

Merry and Alice talk Cockle-Bread

The other day, Merry and I were chatting and she sent me a link cause we like to share philosophical ideas and shit.  And this link was from Cracked.com.  And we were INSPIRED.  Check it out right here.  In case you’re wondering which X-rated tradition really caught our eye, it was the bread women made with their vaginas.  Of course it was. You didn’t read the article did you? We are NOT making this crap up.  Cracked did it’s research (unlike most news media) and here is what they found from, no kidding, the Oxford freaking Index which is from like OXFORD, guys.

oxford index

Anyone else feel like some bread right now?

Yeah, that’s right.  Women would mold bread dough with their va-jay-jays and butts and then bake it.  And here Miley Cyrus thinks she’s innovative.  Not only would these women do bizarre things with their grain products, they would give this bread to people – as a gift to a guy they really liked.  Wow, menfolk.  You are so missing out these days.  Also, note that it was common enough to see this that kids played games of making it.  Sort of like playing house, only gross and highly disturbing!

So Cracked got in some good jokes and moved on to stuff about stone dildos (ouch) but Mer and I were just stuck on the bread.  It really stuck in our . . . craws.  We couldn’t stop talking about it.  Here’s a sample of how our conversation went.

Amy: Holy shit

Merry: I know man

Amy: Well that woke me up a bit.

Merry: Like here is my vagina bread.

Amy: I am feeling pretty yeasty today.  Let’s bake.

Merry: I love you.  I made something special for you!  Uh, a card would have been nice.

Amy: No kidding.  Please no hoo-ha bread.

Merry: That is a messed up article, like people have always been freaks.

Amy: I know.  Hang on (rocks back and forth) dough is nearly done.

Merry: Freshly baked!

Amy: Mer, when you’re feeling down, just think of coochie bread.

Merry: You know some people would not even think makin’ bread with your coochie is funny, Alice.

Amy:  Yeah they’d be like whaaaat?  We’re just special.

Merry:  It’s hilarious.  Twisted and hilarious.

Amy: Part of me wants to get some canned biscuits and go to town.

Merry: I’m telling you – I bet pubes stick to it.

Amy: Omg, imagine explaining it to the doctor. Pillsbury va-jay-jay

Merry: Use lots of oil to keep hair from sticking.

Amy: Spray some PAM up there.  You know guys would totally eat it for sex.

Merry: I think my hubs would partake of my holy muff bread.  But pube free.

Amy: Like no pulps in orange juice.  Now pube free!

Merry:  I wonder if they make dick shaped bread.  Well men don’t bake I guess.

Amy: That’s what we need – penis bread.  Wait – that’s French bread.

Merry: Wee Wee

Amy: Imagine the first gynecologist.  (Pokes around with stick) I don’t think it’s normal to have that much bread up there.

Merry: Is that the Pillsbury Dough boy up there?

Amy: Giggle!

So yeah, a glimpse into the average conversation of a couple of friends.  Let’s continue the discussion.  Anyone else got anything to say about this new recipe? I’m getting ready to pin it on my Pinterest board right now!

~ Alice

Posted in humor, nostalgia, Uncategorized, vintage | Tagged , , , , , , | 22 Comments

Postmodern Jukebox

Yes, I am still here. Sorry it’s been so long since I posted any retro goodness.

I stumbled upon a great band, Postmodern Jukebox. They take pop music, and puts a vintage spin on them. There are so many, I haven’t had a chance to watch all of the videos yet.

My favorite so far is “Creep” by Radiohead, which I have always loved. This version is awesomesauce. (Even without the swearing.)

Other songs include, Straight Up, Bye Bye Bye, Anaconda, Girls Just Want to Have Fun, Gangsta’s Paradise, Like a Prayer, Seven Nation Army, and Sweet Child O’ Mine, just to name a few.

It’s so refreshingly different, I swear if you’re a fan of pop songs, it’s great fun to watch the videos. If you have a second, give this video a listen, and tell me what you think.

Or, you know, not.

Creep by Radiohead

When you were here before
Couldn’t look you in the eye
You’re just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You’re so very special

But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here.

I don’t care if it hurts
I wanna have control
I wanna a perfect body
I wanna a perfect soul

I want you to notice
When I’m not around
You’re so very special
I wish I was special

But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here.

She’s running out again,
She’s running out
She’s run run run run

Run

Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You’re so very special
I wish I was special

But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here
I don’t belong here

Posted in music, nostalgia, retro, Uncategorized, vintage | Tagged , , | 16 Comments

Haven’t you always wanted a monkey?

Wow, it’s been over three months since I’ve posted anything over here! I swear that I kept meaning to, but then I would put it off. I only have so much creativity, ya know?

Anyways, here I am. And here is an offer that I know you can’t refuse!

monkey

To order online, go to http://www.darlingpetmonkey.com

These ads were indeed real, in comic books mostly during the 1950’s, 60’s and early 70’s. Screw getting a dog or a cat, for less than $20.00 dollars, junior son of a bitch could have his very own squirrel monkey with his birthday card money from grandma.

According to my research, these little critters do not thrive on human food as the ad suggests, since they eat berries, leaves, insects and other such things. You can’t just thrust a ham sandwich at a squirrel monkey and make him happy.

Their natural habitats are trees. They sprinkle urine on the branches so that others of their kind can find them easily.

I can only imagine what they do with their poop.

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What I do with my shit is my business, human!!

Since I don’t know of anyone personally who has a pet squirrel monkey, I am assuming that this idea didn’t really catch on.

For example, you cannot teach a monkey to use a litter box, nor can you really fulfill his need for other monkey companionship, since they live in large groups called troops composed of 40 to 50 members.

Plus, they live for 15-20 years, so that is a huge commitment to take on, especially if you can’t train him to not fling his dung at you when you give him a lollipop.

I’m sure that some people actually do own one of these highly intelligent animals, so I mean no offense. But as a warning to the rest of us, here is a snippet of a post I found about a man who actually did buy one from the comic book ad.

“No instructions [were included]. He had this waist belt on, a collar, if you will, on his waist, with an unattached leash inside the box. So I opened the box up inside the cage, the monkey jumped out, I withdrew the box and found the leash. I have no idea where it came from; I assumed it came from Florida. I figured, well, it’s probably near dehydration, so I opened up the cage to put some water in it. It leapt out of the cage when I opened it up the second time! I mean, it was eyeing the pipes that I was unaware of. As soon as I opened the cage, it leapt up and grabbed onto the plumbing up on the ceiling and started using them like monkey bars, and he was just shooting along in the basement, chirping pretty loud. It was heading towards the finished side of the basement, where there was a drop ceiling, and if it got into those channels, I never would have got it. It would have been days to get this thing out of there. I grabbed it by its tail, and it came down on, starting literally up by my shoulder, like a drill press it landed on my arm, and every bite was breaking flesh. It was literally like an un-sewing machine. It was literally un-sewing my arm coming down, and I was pouring blood. I grabbed it by its neck with both my wrists, threw it back in the cage. It’s screaming like a scalded cat. I’m pouring blood. My friend’s laughing uncontrollably, and my father finally comes in the basement door and goes, ‘Jeffery! What are you doing to that rabbit?’ And I go, ‘It’s not a rabbit, it’s a monkey, and it just bit the hell out of me.”

I think that I’ll just stick with my dogs, Jeffery.

 

Posted in advertising, animals, funny, humor, retro, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 25 Comments