Postcard Stories: Ruby and Frank


Ruby: Okay, hold still, Mr. Wiener, I’m going to start painting you now.

Frankfurter: Please, I insist that you call me Frankfurter, or Frank for short.

Ruby: Well, thank you so much for coming on such short notice, Frank. I was beside myself with having to find a replacement!

Frankfurter: How could I pass up the opportunity to be a work of art?! I’m honored.

Ruby: I’m so glad.

Frankfurter: Can you tell me who I’ll be working with today?

Ruby: When I’m finished painting you all sorts of groovy colors, you’ll be dancing with these lovely girls!


Meet Bubbles, Precious, Glory and Sunshine!

Frankfurter: Wow! Hello ladies!

(The girls all giggle at the suddenly longer and thicker frankfurter, then leave the room to go powder their nose.)

Ruby: Yes, an older gentleman requested three naked beautiful ladies, hiding behind a banner, with a wiener painted in psychedelic colors running around in front of them for his birthday party.

Frankfurter: Sounds like fun to me! I’m still young and firm, I’m still moist and juicy, baby!

Ruby: That’s what I like to hear! Okay, you’re all set!

And thanks again, if this works out, you may have yourself a regular gig.

Frankfurter: What happened to the last guy?

Ruby: I ate him.

Frankfurter: Oh.

Ruby: I’m just fucking with you, Frank!

Frankfurter: A ha!

Ruby: No, seriously. Look, I like you, so I’m gonna warn you and give you a fighting chance. Get out now before I put you inside my buns.

Frankfurter: But the paint?!

Ruby: Mustard, ketchup and relish.

Frankfurter: Help!

Ruby: The last wiener wanted me to call him Frank too.

And with that, Ruby took her first bite, savoring the taste.



Posted in dark humor, fiction, funny, humor, kitsch, retro, stories, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | 35 Comments

Swimming Sweater


Alice: Sweater swimming? Thank you, I had gotten lost in a comment thread and lost hope in humanity. Thank God for sweater man.

Mer: Wtf? So bizarre.

Alice: I know. Like – is he really swimming in that?

Mer: He’s getting ready to jump in dramatically.

Alice: Yeah, maybe. I get out of the pool and bing my sweater appears. Shop at Sears.

Mer: JC Penney.

Alice:  Wait – and – isn’t that – a woman’s sweater? Think of it. It’s very slimming.

Mer: It’s formfitting and snug, everything that I look for in a swimming sweater.

Alice: Yes! It looks like he is in mid The Thinker pose. Like -why am I wearing women’s clothes and underwear into the pool? Hmmm.

Mer: He needed the money and was tired of making porn.

Alice: Haha! He is a perfect combination of one of the Bonds on top, and Magnum P.I. on bottom.

Mer: His thighs are so hairy and solid. Damn!

Alice: And his shorts are so short. Hey, and he’s got a necklace. I’m picturing one of those giant gold dollar signs.

Mer: It does somehow tie the look together, though.

Alice: Really creates the look. Oh, there’s his wife nearby. “Hey, stay out of my closet and get out of the pool!”

Mer: Bob, for the last time, it’ll never catch on!

Alice: Bob is certain it will. After all, people will always wear sexy sideburns like that.

Mer: Nuthuggers always make me stop and take a better look.

Alice: There’s that hint of mystery under the sweater.

Mer: Like, how big are his nipples? These sort of things are of the utmost importance to know.

Alice: I think I see one poking out in the sweater. Must be cold in there.
Mer: Ah, that’s why I can’t detect any trace of his willy.
Willy, come out! It’s okay, don’t be shy!
Alice: Must be.
See, it’s cold so he had to put the sweater on! That’s why we can’t see those rockin’ swim trunks.Either that or he’s actually a Ken doll with hair glued on.No extra parts included.
Mer: Just a misleading bulge.
Alice: Yes! Why do that?  Man, I think the sweater is to keep us guessing.I MUST see those trunks. He might be in his daughter’s closet man.

Mer: The 70’s were a weird time, dude.I’m glad I was too young to realize that plaid was lame.
Alice: Me too. So, so weird and tacky.Just love his expression. You know you want to rip this sweater off of me.
Mer:  I do, but not for the reason you think.

Posted in advertising, funny, humor, retro, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 19 Comments

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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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  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