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This entry was posted on Tuesday, June 7th, 2016 at 9:36 am and is filed under simple pleasures. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
This entry was posted on Tuesday, June 7th, 2016 at 9:36 am and is filed under simple pleasures. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
The C student starts a restaurant. The A student writes restaurant reviews.
—P. J. O’Rourke
A lot of people cry when they chop onions. The trick is not to get emotionally attached.
Home sweet home
Bob's sister Hannah
Bob's sister Ada
Bob's brother Otto
Bob's sister Eve
Bob's sister Nan
A baby picture of Bob and his siblings (clockwise from upper left: Otto, Eve, Hannah, Ada, Bob, and Nan)
Bob's childhood home
Bob's mom and dad
Bob in his youth
Bob's cousin Alphonse
Bob's Uncle Ralph and Aunt Edna
Bob's cousin Archibald
Bob's stepbrother Herbie (who really needs to quit smoking)
Bob's cousin Chester
Bob's Great Uncle Norbert and Great Aunt Phyllis
Bob's cousin Saffron (who will do anything for a drink)
Bob's cousin Thorndike
Bob's brother-in-law Vinnie
Bob's cousin Orville, who loves the Green Bay Packers
Bob's nieces Lulu and Bitsy, the biker chicks
Bob's stepsister Eloise, with the twins, Rudy and Trudy
Bob's Uncle Henry and Aunt Rowena
Bob's niece Esmerelda (who likes to live dangerously)
Bob's Great Uncle Arthur up in Saskatchewan
Bob's cousin Louie, the grackle of grumpiness
Miss Screech, Bob's journalism teacher
Bob's nephew Winthrop, who loves sports
Bob's Uncle Seymour and Aunt Bernice
Bob's second cousin Schlomo in Brooklyn
Bob's nephew Baxter
Bob's cousin Darrell
Bob's sister-in-law Delphine, who volunteers at the animal shelter
Percy the Pickpocket, Bob's third cousin once removed (the relative no one likes to talk about... every family has one)
The Bluebird of Happiness™ (no relation to Bob)
A pair of boobies (also no relation to Bob, but included for readers who desire titillation)
Bluebird Bitter™, the beer they named for Bob
I remember the “gee, your hair smells terrific” nonsense. Thanks for the laugh, Madison Avenue is just too much.
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I’m embarrassed to say that I remember several of those ads, which lets you know not only how ancient I am, but how much of my misspent youth was wasted watching television and reading really stupid magazines.
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The guys in the final two ads must have used the vacuum helmet. 🙂
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Wow, it really works!
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I see that vacuum helmets are still sold … but they’ve changed with the times. http://www.amazon.com/Catlike-Vacuum-Helmet/dp/B008H5FKQY
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Yikes, the rope and gun! Yet most sane people understand the exaggeration.
Try this ad today. lol
Loved these. Great memories.
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She’s also holding a bottle of poison pills. Not sure whether she planned to take the pills first, then use the rope and the gun, or what exactly she had in mind…
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Too much! lol
The point is made eh, about a bad hair day….
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Do you get the impression she’s overreacting?
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Oh my! Where did you find all these? So funny!
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I collect old advertisements compulsively. They all go into a file, and when the file starts to bulge, I have to do something with them. 🙂
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That’s a great way to hoard. Too bad my hoarding is all junk and teaching supplies. 😊
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😀
My husband is a pack rat. Shortly after we got married, when we were living in a tiny apartment with almost no storage space, it became obvious that two pack rats could not live together successfully (unless they had a big house with a full attic and full basement and maybe also a large garage and possibly a barn or two as well)… so if we were going to survive, one of us would have to reform. Given that I was 22 at the time and he was 31, I concluded that it would have to be me; he was too set in his ways. I guess it worked, because we recently celebrated our 39th anniversary. 🙂
Nowadays most of my pack ratting is confined to my computer’s hard drive. 🙂
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That’s a wonderful story! We were so poor when we started out that we never had much to collect.
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I hear you. We were poor as church mice, but we each brought a rather large accumulation of stuff (largely worthless, apart from sentimental value) to the marriage. I think he had more than I did because he’d had eight years longer to accumulate stuff. 🙂
Also, for many years he refused to throw away anything that was broken — furniture, appliances, etc. — if he thought it could be repaired. It didn’t seem to matter that neither of us had either the time or the expertise to repair the item in question. 🙂
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[…] via Advertisements from long, long ago — fabulous hair edition — bluebird of bitterness […]
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Thank you for the link! 🙂
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[…] Advertisements from long, long ago — fabulous hair edition […]
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Thanks for the link. 🙂
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