Wonderful memories of my Grandma Mary, who most certainly would have made this Jell-O salad and served it proudly with dollops of mayonnaise...all the while with a Pall Mall burning between her fingertips manicured with Revlon's Fire and Ice and a highball awaiting her when she finished the chore.
On February 27, 1988, Father Figure topped the Billboard charts, staying there for two weeks. It was a track from George Michael's monster LP Faith, which was released in October 1987.
I'm en route to getting ready for Date Night, but I was so appalled by this clip, I had an urge to blog about it immediately!
Karen J., you evil and tortuous soul, how can you claim to be "one of my biggest fans" and then release this piece of fresh Hades upon me, knowing full well that I would have to do a post about it here? Devil woman, you!
Words...fail me. I didn't think even The Sixties were capable of children's toys that could only be played successfully by feigning an epileptic fit. But here it is: Swing Wing.
Tears, recriminations, overnight visits to "The Club" by her husband... ...and all because no one will say to her just five simple words:
"GIRL, YOUR TWAT SO STANKY!"
Hopefully, a Love Quiz written by a perverted old geezer at Lysol, coupled with a coupon for a Free Booklet that may or may not be called, "So Your Hubby's Nickname Around The Office Is Gorton," will set this wife straight about the importance of sticking toxic chemicals up her coochie in order to render it Monsanto Fresh.
I've recently become fascinated with what one might call "the dark side" of vintage things: those places that have outworn their welcome, regardless of the reason...usually just the passage of time, the changing of tastes, and the folly of humans.
Malls. Amusement parks. Residential buildings. Hospitals. Orphanages and "state homes." Places that, for whatever the reason, are simply left to stand as a testament to their former lives as part of their respective communities...now rotting away with the passage of the seasons, dignity stripped away with each spray of graffiti.
So I decided to start memorializing these abandoned places, forgotten spaces, here on this blog. I think I might do a solid week of remembrance at first, but this will be a regular feature on A Touch Of Tuesday Weld.
I hope you are as fascinated as I am.
-Laura :)
These buildings were meant to be "The Legendary Years" section in the absolutely appalling "Pop Century" resort at Walt Disney World, commemorating 1900-1940 and some of Disney's greatest animated triumphs.
Alas, it never came to pass, courtesy of September 11, 2001. This segment of the project, along with many of the buildings already finished with doors and windows, was completely abandoned (and such a shame, I would have liked to have stayed in the "Uncle Walt's I Hate Jews" suite).
So consequently, a "pop century" in Disneyspeak only lasts fifty years.
It's rainy, cold, and miserable here, and I feel rainy, cold, and miserable. You all know the kind of headache I am talking about. Just...rainy, cold, and miserable.
So I wrapped myself in my new electric blanket (thank you, Santa Ken) and settled in for an afternoon of Toddlers and Tiaras on TLC.
It was there that I met four-year-old Makenzie.
I'm not certain if I find this child hilarious or appalling...or both.
As you can see, this was aired sometime in 1972, as you see a snippet of The Price Is Right with Bob Barker. Dig the miniskirt on one of Barker's Beauties!
I can't decide what is creepier: Jack Webb's narration or that drumroll (*shudder*).
This PSA was aired during the first commercial break on the September 4, 1972 premiere of The (New) Price is Right. The first commercial break was always taken up by either a 60-second PSA or network promo, in those days.
I'm sick...some sort of overenthusiastic bug is chewing on my innards. Ever feel like you were accidentally shoved in front of a milk truck and it ran over you five times? Yeah. That's how I feel.
And Benadryl, any incarnation of it, should be sold on the street. I took some for the watery eyes and snuffly nose aspect of this flu and I woke up 18 hours later!
So I thought I would appease The Cold And Flu Gods by creating a post about vintage soup advertising, and this is what I found. Just what you want to look at when you are sick...pea soup the color of vomit. And to think, this is the best the graphic artists of the day could do with the color! What did this soup really look like? Sheesh.
In this ad from the 1980s, a daughter shares a touching moment with her mother as they both extol the virtues of vinegar for the fish and chips at their personal Arthur Treacher's down below.
In this heartbreaking ad, a fedora-bedecked husband walks out on his clueless wife because she is a Stank Ho!
"If I wanted to smell that," he sniped, "I would have taken a job slinging trash cans behind Red Lobster instead of being on the executive fast track at Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe!"
American wives, beware! Shove Dakin's solution, which is essentially weak bleach water, up your cooch to keep the peace in your marriage! Dangerous chemicals are not a concern when your marital bliss is at stake! It's the American way!
I guess the "frosted meat loaf" could be considered a variation on shepherd's pie. And look, someone let a Bundt cake do the talkin'...with meaty goodness!