"My name is Billie and I'm related to Heart in San Francisco."
"Hiiii, Billie."
Then everybody gets sloppy drunk and passes out.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Deja Scary
This gem came from my wonderful cousin, Billie, in Maine. We're putting her in a 12-Step Program for my relatives. You know how it goes...
"My name is Billie and I'm related to Heart in San Francisco."
"Hiiii, Billie."
Then everybody gets sloppy drunk and passes out.
"My name is Billie and I'm related to Heart in San Francisco."
"Hiiii, Billie."
Then everybody gets sloppy drunk and passes out.
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23 comments:
Horrible! I heard that ads like this really ran back before WWII. Insane!
Katrice,
Even later than that. Dont forget Ozzie and Harriet et al in the 50's.
We've come a long way, baby.
I think I'm due to get sloppy drunk!
Nihilistic,
Fine, but you have to join my family first.
The sloppy drunk part wouldn't be so bad if the hangovers didn't last 3 days as they do now.
It is amazing to think this kind of thing was the norm when my mom was a kid. No wonder she's so wigged out by me working!!
Is this REAL? It has GOT to be a spoof! Or maybe I have just forgotten how things were in the forties and fifties....
Anyway, as you say, we've come a long way, baby!
Jake
That's got to be a spoof. LOL I can't imagine the women of my mother's generation taking that sitting down!
:)
Peace,
Thailand Gal
~*~*~
Urchin,
I've missed so much as a non-drinker. I can see now the error of my ways.
Yeah, well, the 50's were not kind to women, despite the sentimental propaganda.
Jake,
It's true, and we have. And might I suggest that you may have forgotten because you're a man?
Thailand Gal,
Many did. They were indoctrinated from birth and knew no other way to be. Some rebelled. Perhaps your mother was one of them.
Oh my!! I'm worrying my pretty lil head off!!! what to do, what to do!
Peace!
Jake,
Mmmhmmm.
Odat,
Uh oh, I"ve started a riot. Anarchy in the kitchens. The bedrooms. Oh, my goodness. Widescale insurrection.
Next thing you know, the li'l ladies will start thinking they're just as good as men. Life as we know it is OVER.
My pretty little head gets all flustered by my computer all the time. My pretty little head also gets all flustered by the oven whenever I use it.
Can't I just stay in the bedroom?
Mist, I think I love you.
You are soooo funny!
Does it count if I'm commenting while sloppy drunk?
Wow, I wish I were following me around looking at all of my comments this evening.
I once was the technology consultant for an academic department at a major university.
I was called into a huge meeting with the vice provost (whateverthehell that means) and a bunch of other overpaid high muckety mucks, and they asked me what my projections for technology in the next 20 years were.
I said "Go analog"
Suffice to say, I'm now working in retail. :)
Misanthropster,
Well, retail is a kind of parallel universe, too. Minus the vice provosts, of course.
Thanks for visiting me today!
Uh-oh, but I don't like to cook. Now what?
Parlancheq,
My mother told me I would have to be a teacher, a nurse, or a mommy when I grew up. She didn't say anything about cooking.
Ask Mist if she'll let you into the bedroom, too.
That shit is just amazing...fricking amazing. And people wondered why bras were burned?
Kevin,
Husbands don't burn as well.
It should be me in that picture. I still haven't figured out how this damned thing works!
By the way, is it just me, or is that woman in the photo pretty hot? ;)
Stay in the kitchen???? Wow.
Oh, Dan, poor Dan.
I think it's just you, but don't worry your pretty little head about it.
Kevin,
Couldn't agree more.
Thanks for your visit!
This is why my grandmother
a) taught middle school English for 30 years, but does not know how to type (AT ALL).
and
b) keeps telling me that if I don't do a better job "keeping house" that my husband will "quit me"
Aisby,
It's a different world for sure. When I think of the pressure on women then, it makes me angry.
Of course we have as much today, but different kinds of pressure.
Just tell Grandma you're great in bed and smile mysteriously. She'll never mention it again.
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