Misogynistic Advertisements of Yesteryear

I'm not sure you all know this, but in the past, women were portrayed in advertising as weak, housecleaning, followers. Thank goodness the world has matured and women are no longer seen as nothing more than a man's servant. In 21st Century advertising, women are seen as strong, oversexed, over-tanned babes who can't ever seem to find enough clothes.

Some of my favorite examples of advertisements from the early 20th Century can be found in a lovely postcard book entitled You Mean a Woman Can Open It...? The Woman's Place in the Classic Age of Advertising. You can check out the book at Amazon.com.

Here comes some sweet-ass misogynistic advertisements:

1952
A friendly warning about bringing home stale coffee.

1953

1930's
A little speed, er, vitamins for wifey, so she can get all the cleaning & cooking done.

1921
I guess if the answer is 'no', the next step would be for her to grab her weird ball of hair and leave.

1953

Cute Thanksgiving-Toddler-Falling-Out-Window- Type Story

In New York on Thanksgiving Day, a toddler fell out a window while his family was eating. The kid actually survived the 20' fall, and didn't even break a bone. (Check out the story here)

What is not mentioned in the story is the danger of giving PCP to your toddler, and clearly, this kid was tripping on PCP when he stepped to the window and tried to fly. PCP is the classic "think you can fly" drug. I may be in the minority here, but I really don't think toddlers should use it.

One of the relatives chimed in with, "It's a miracle."
Yeah, it is a miracle. It's a miracle that you didn't mistake the toddler for the turkey and tie his little fat legs together, pop him in the oven, baste him, carve him and eat him, while the turkey took PCP and learned to fly.

Pancreatic Cancer Awareness Month

November is Pancreatic Cancer Awareness Month. Right now, as we sit and breath, it is November and it is Pancreatic Cancer Awareness Month. Can you feel it?

My mom died three years ago from pancreatic cancer. It was quiet and fast. Less than 3 months from diagnosis to death.

So anyway, pancreatic cancer sucks. Of course, all cancer sucks, and as always, early detection is the best way to survive and even more so with pancreatic cancer,. So check ourself out. Check your balls, check your breasts, ask your doctor to check your internal organs, just be aware.

The 1-year survival rate is 15% and the 5-year survival rate is only 4%.
"These low survival rates are attributable to the fact that fewer than 10% of patients' tumors are confined to the pancreas at the time of diagnosis; in most cases, the malignancy has already progressed to the point where surgical removal is impossible." -Pancreatic.org

That is enough book learning for today. I just wanted to get the word out there, thanks for indulging me.

If you'd like to find out about research being done on pancreatic cancer, please check out the Lustgarten Foundation for Pancreatic Cancer Research.

This was my mom's garden:

I Have a Crush On Mary-Louise Parker

I've got a huge crush on Mary-Louise Parker.

She's on a show called Weeds on Showtime.
Here is a couple of photos of lovely Ms. Parker:

Is The Croup Real?

My nephew has the croup. Being a dumb-guy, I had no idea the croup was something you could get this day and age. I thought it was a disease from a bygone era that scientists had since slayed, like Polio, Syphilis, or erectile dysfunction. Turns out it is an illness that kids can get from 3 months of age to 3+ years, and it is easily treated in most cases.

It got me to thinking about other illnesses and diseases that I know nothing about.

Rickets, as it turns out, is the softening of bones in children, and not a fancy racquetball raquet. Although it has been under control in the U.S. for quite some time, it is the leading cause of illness for kids in developing countries.

I'm sure there's others I don't know about, but they will remain that way. For now, let's look at someone who obviously didn't have rickets as a child:

Wow. 100% rickets free.

Top Ten Douchebags

My friend Pistola Whipped and I were chatting about douchebags. Here is who we think are the biggest douches.

Top Ten American, British, German and Canadian Political or Celebrity Douchebags.

List by Pistola Whipped

10. Bryan Adams
9. Jay Leno
8. Jean Claude van Damme
7. The Rock
6. Sting
5. Dr. Phil
4. Phil Collins
3. Fred Durst
2. Carson Daly
1. Carrot Top



My List

10. Any Lead-Singer/Drummer
9. Paul Stanley
8. Dr. Phil
7. Par Ridder (Corrupt newspaper publisher who is in forced retirement with a multi-million dollar payoff)
6. Carson Daly
5. Robin Williams
4. Sting
3. OJ Simpson
2. Toby Keith
1. Jay Leno


Yet another list from Twinkles:

10. Don Henley

9. Tim Pawlenty (MN Governor)

8. Jesse Ventura

7. Kanye West

6. Rick Kupchella (Local TV news personality)

5. Lance Bass

4. Tim Blotz (Local TV news personality)

3. The Tiny Man in my Psych Class

2. Jim Rich/Randy Shaver/Eric Perkins (Local TV sports anchors)

1. Tom Lyden (Local TV news personality)

Who is on your douchebag list?

My Imaginary Conversation With My Dad

I was driving down the freeway by myself and I had a conversation with my father, in my head.

Me: Did you know that they widened east 694 by adding a lane where the shoulder used to be?

My dad: Oh yeah. Do you think that is why they put that sign on 94 just before the exit to 694 talking about using the shoulder?

Me: No. That sign is about using the shoulder on 94 to get on to 694 during rush hour.

My dad: I don't know, let's get some lunch.

Washed Up Child Stars or Hotties?

What happens when children become stars on some crappy sitcom, then the sitcom is canceled and they are left to fend for themselves with their home-schooled degree and retarded social skills? They usually end up being hotties.

Jessica Biel starred on 7th Heaven. She played a Pastor's daughter. And then she turned 17:


Shannen Doherty was the star of Beverly Hills 90210. Now she is the star of this jungle:

Lacey Chabert was on the hit show Party of Five in the 1990's. She played some part on the show, I'm sure she was great, here's a recent photo of her:

Soleil Moon Frye was a child actress who starred in the popular sit-com Punky Brewster.
Where is she now? She got married in 1998 and has one child. She is still acting. Here is a recent photo:


Up next is Alyssa Milano. She was every teenage boys dream girl when she starred in the 1980's sitcom Who's the Boss?.
Where is she now? She does plenty of cameo roles on TV and some movies, but here's a photo of her all grown up:

Up next, Danica McKellar. She played Winnie on the popular show Wonder Years. What is she up to now? I can't be too sure, but here's a photo of her:

Looks Like A Real Nice Apron

It's time for the Product of the Week.

This week we have a beautiful, but simple apron. It even comes with embroidery. There are usually 3 choices of embroidery, but right now, the only one in stock says, "Gourmet Goddess", but that's pretty sweet.

The website has this to say about the apron, "Domistyle brings a fresh and funky attitude to the kitchen with these unique designer aprons."

Earlier, I had this to say about the apron, "Look at how hot the apron is. It's so super hot. I can't believe how hot. Look at that craftsmanship! Superb. How could you pass on an apron like that? Soooooooo hot."

If you'd like to check out this product or any of the other fine products available at goneshopping.ca, please go HERE.

My Friend Wants Me To Get An STD

Since my wife left me, my coworker friend has been bugging me to get an STD (sexually transmitted disease). He wants me to go out and get down with a questionable chick. OK, he just wants me to get it going with any chick I can find. He is, for the most part, saying this in jest, but it got me thinking about what STD's are treatable and what ones are permanent.

First off, there is Chlamydia. It is the most common treatable STD.
Gonorrhea is another such STD. Curable, but can be deadly if left untreated.
Syphilis can also be treated, but can be deadly.

That's probably enough of that.
So my friend asked me to write a song about not getting any STD's since my wife left. Here it is:

The No STD blues
(STD is pronounced ess, tee, dee)

Well I woke up in the morning
It had to be nearly dawn
I looked and looked, but she was gone

It happen long ago
I never did let it go
Friends are telling me to go out and play

I failed them up to now
I swear I don't know how
I'm sitting here with the no STD blues

I got the no STD blues
I've been fillin' up with the booze
I don't know what, I'm gonna do

You see, there's no time to waste
I've been left here in this place
But I'm crying here with the no STD blues

Marimba Solo

Repeat Chorus

I got the no STD blues
I've been fillin' up with the booze
I don't know what, I'm gonna do

You see there is no time to waste
I've been left here in this place
Still crying here with the no STD blues

I Finally Have My iPod Back

My estranged wife sent me my iPod and I could not be happier. OK, you got me, I could be a lot happier, but it did make me smile when I opened the package. Of course, the iPod was filled with all of my wife's favorite EMOtional music. Some of its OK, but most of it just makes me want to cut my fingers off one-by-one and feed them to my cats.
I spent some time filling up the iPod with The Rolling Stones & Wilco, spent some time sitting in the car before work listening and realized that I still miss my estranged wife who lied, cheated and hurt me badly. I don't want her back, but I miss her, and I'm OK with that.
With my daily affirmation finished, I threw the iPod into my bag and headed in to work.

Yea ipod!

He Could Be My Father

There's been nothing exciting happening lately. Nothing to write about. Nothing to post. So, I decided to tell you all about Bob.

We all know a guy who is old, hunched over, has a vaguely familiar odor, mumbles to himself, and shuffled his feet. Usually it’s the homeless guy you pass on your way to the bus, but for me it’s a guy I work with, name Bob, who sits in the cube across from mine.

Over seven years of working together side by side, we haven’t said more than 20 words to each other. Somehow, I still know that his schizophrenic daughter ran away to Arkansas leaving him and his wife to take care of his grandson, he’s Jewish, lives in a condo, has corns on his feet, had a growth removed from his ear, worked 20 years as a traveling salesman, used to live in St Louis and loves country music. Half of that information I gleaned from his loud personal telephone conversations, the remaining info I learned from overhearing his self-mumblings. Bob is a confirmed “loud talker”, so I’m sure others in the office know a lot about him, but I sit nearest to him, so I’m privy to some information that others may not know. If I cared to, I could remind him when his next prostate exam is.

Bob is fond of telling jokes to his coworkers and customers. He’s got George Burns jokes in his repertoire, Dangerfield, all the classics. Although his favorite joke is his very own creation about the “Bob Convention” that he goes to every year.
He sets it up with, “Honest to god, every year there’s a Bob convention.”
Then he brings it home with, “they save a bundle on name tags.”
That is the extent of the joke. I never get to hear the reaction on the other end, but he tells the joke every day with the same enthusiasm, as I’m sure he had the first time he told it.

Three years ago, our department switched from the old dummy terminal computers to actual personal computers. This was the first time Bob had ever seen a PC, much less worked with one. It’s been four long years of Bob asking questions like, “how do I bring up my message thingy?” and, “where did my internets go?”

He’s finally mastered the art of turning his computer on and logging in. He’s able to do his job and read emails, but I still hear him say to customers, “your ad will also be on the inter-webs”, and “we have a huge internets”, and it still makes me giggle like a little schoolboy.

The Beauty of the Potluck

Yesterday, we enjoyed a potluck lunch at my place of employment to celebrate the great fall harvest festival. Or was it Halloween? Anyway, during an average year, I’d say we have 4-5 potlucks, and I always look forward to them for the free food and great conversation.

After a department potluck, I feel compelled to talk about it with my coworkers for the rest of the day.

"Did you get some food?"
"Yeah, that roast was awesome. Did you get dessert yet? Make sure to try the pie.”
"OK, then, have a nice day."

This conversation is repeated throughout the rest of the day between me and every other employee I run into. After much observation over the years, I finally realized my compulsion to talk about the potluck is shared by most of my peers. Over in the corner a widower discussed how she caramelized the onions for her hot dish, while a 30-something single man nodded and sipped on a half empty cup of diet Coke. Out on the sidewalk, two of the younger employees chatted about the merits of eating food that had been left out for 3+ hours.

The beauty of the potluck is that it gives us something to talk about other than the weather or that last belligerent customer who called 2 minutes before closing time. Save for a few small cliques of close friends, my work place, like most, has a bunch of people working together who would not normally be friends, but are forced to coexist and spend considerable amounts of time together. The potluck gives us an entire day of built-in, stress-free, convenient conversation!

Here are a couple of actual conversations I had with coworkers:

Me: So, did you try the homemade macaroni & cheese?
Coworker: Yeah, that was the bomb.
Me: Ever notice how after a potluck, everyone talks about it the rest of the day? It’s great, it gives us something to talk about.
Coworker: Yeah, I suppose. (small chuckle)
Me: Did you try the pie? Amazing!

Coworker 2: Man, that trail mix is good. Go get some, it’s zesty.
Me: Maybe I will.
Me: Wow, that is really good. But I’m pretty sure it’s spicy, not zesty.
Coworker 2: Are you sure, I’m positive it’s zesty.
Me: I’m going with spicy.