The Corporate Friday Mailbag

Attention:
It has come to my
attention that I have
somehow let my
attention slip
and have not
been paying close
enough attention
to the attention I
should have been
paying to the fact
that it’s Friday !

How
so very
inattentive
of me.

Oh well…

Today’s exercise
in redundancy is
brought to you
by these fine
corporate slogans
(or, what they
should be, anyway) :

Bic Pens
” Buy Your Own
For A Change “

IKEA
” There’s A Reason
We Don’t Put It Together ”

KIT-KAT
” When You Don’t Have
Time To Decide
Right Or Left”

Coca-Cola
” Yeah, Sure, It’s Still
The Classic Coke. ”

KFC
” Who The Fuck
Is The ‘Kernel’ ? ”

Milk Bones
” Your Dog Understands –
It’s Not Milk,
and It’s Not A Bone”

Taco Bell
” Try Our New
No-Meat,
No-Cheese,
No-Flavor Taco”

El Cheapo
Magic Markers

” Another White Shirt
Bites The Dust ”

Bud Light
” When Taste Is
Not A Priority”

Chrysler / Fiat
” We’ll See Ya
On The Shoulder “

Sprint – ”
Hey, We’re Almost
Just As Good ”

Chef Boyardee
” You Remember Us,
Don’t You ?”

Exxon
” Our Gas Is So Clean,
It Cleans Your Wallet Too ”

The One Big Airline
” Yes, Bend Over,
Cause You Know
It’s Comin’ “

Bell & Howell
” The Brand That Used
To Mean Something ”

Black & Decker
” Bell and Howell
Stole Our Slogan ”

Pampers
” Paper Diapers Wouldn’t
Have Been Near Good
Enough To Your Grandmother ”

SOYJOY
” No, You Can’t
Milk A Soy Bean ”

Waffle House
” Lock and Load ”

Hot Pockeys
” Lava Ain’t Just In Hawaii ”

CinnaBun
” Rotting Teeth For
Over 30 Years ”

Ticket Master
” Don’t Scream Rape
If You Don’t Mean It ”

Playboy Magazine
” Irrelevant, and Now
With Less Nudes”

Bounty Paper Towels
” The Expensive Picker Upper ”

UPS
” Brown Trucks Don’t
Need To Be Washed ”

Patek Philippe Titanium
” We Spit On
Your Lowly Rolex ”

Sears
” It Was Sure
Nice Knowing Ya ”

GNC
” Pay More – Get Less “

Blue Moon Beer
” Keep The Orange
Slice, Doofus ”

General Motors
” 5 Brands, One Style “.

And finally …..

The Original
Rollerball Movie

” We Tried To Tell You ”

.
Note: all brand-names and trademarks
 mentioned in this post fall under the 
"Fair Use" provisions of U.S. Copyright
Law, Title 17 and remain the property 
of their respective owners. While it 
would seem a rather trivial matter to 
some, corporations do seem to get 
a little pissy when it comes to somebody
 having a little fun at their expense, 
even if there is more than a shallow 
ring of truth in what's being implied. 
Man, that's life, I guess.

.

!!! HOY !!!

.

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The Anti-Flirt Club

I’ve always been a big flirt,
and I’ll be the first one to
admit that.

Mild participatory flirtation
can a be wonderful thing —
a matter of subtle body
language, a bantering
tête-à-tête, a joyful
recognition of each other’s
voluptuary natures.

It’s fun.
Cause I don’t flirt with
anyone who doesn’t.

But, flirting is one of those
things that can easily get
out of hand – and when it’s
not participatory (mutual),
or becomes crass or abusive –
one becomes what’s been
called ‘ a masher ‘.

I never got the whole concept
of cat-calling, for instance ….

Did a cat-call ever get a woman
to become interested in a man?

I kinda doubt it.

And the concept of
‘auto invitation’ —
cat-calling from cars —
well, that’s just gotta
be for very desperate
dudes, right?

Actually, it became such
a problem in the 1920’s
that a bunch of women
in Washington, DC founded
the first ‘anti-flirt’ club –
in 1923.

Yep.

The president of said club,
Miss Alice Reighly, shown
with their official pennant,
published a list of ten rules
that she recommended to
all women :

” 1: Don’t flirt; those who flirt in haste oft repent in leisure.

2: Don’t accept rides from flirting motorists—they don’t all invite
you in to save you a walk.

3: Don’t use your eyes for ogling—
they were made for worthier
purposes.

4: Don’t go out with men you don’t know—they may be married, and you may be in
for a hair-pulling match.

5: Don’t wink—a flutter of one eye may cause a tear in the other.

6: Don’t smile at flirtatious strangers—
save them for
people you know.

7: Don’t annex all the men you can get—
by flirting with many you may lose out on the one.

8: Don’t fall for the slick, dandified cake eater—the unpolished gold of a real man is worth more than the gloss of lounge lizard.

9: Don’t let elderly men with an eye to a flirtation pat you on the shoulder and take a fatherly interest in you. Those are usually the kind who want to forget
they are fathers.

10: Don’t ignore the man
you are sure of while you
flirt with another. When you
return to the first one you
may find him gone. ”

I dunno, honestly, why flirtation
should ever get so out of hand
that people would join a club to
discourage it —

— you’d think we’d all have
better sense , and more
sensitivity than that.

But, it just goes to
show ya……..

.
.

!!! HOY !!!

Don’t Hobble Me

Just like in olden times,
you’ll never know
when you might
find yourself
in distress.

And back then,
even before ” S.O.S.”
was adopted by American
sailing vessels as the
standard distress signal
– there was ” C.Q.D.

Yep-
the message
” To All Stations –
— In Distress “
was boiled down to ‘CQD’
in Morse Code, and it was
actually the first distress
call code used by the radio
operators on the Titanic…

( it was then
alternated with the
newer code ‘SOS’. )

Both ‘CQD’
and ‘SOS’
should actually be
displayed with an
overline, indicating
that there is no
pause/space
between the
characters
when sending, but
my ASCII coding ain’t
up to snuff for that.

But, this post
doesn’t have
that much to do
with nautical lore
or Morse Code,
even –

— despite being
very, very potentially
interesting subjects
in themselves.

No….

Today, for our
Friday Mailbag Post,
I thought we’d
dig for some cool
‘hobble skirt’ postcards.

The hobble skirt was
one of those things, that
back in the early 1900’s,
you either loved or hated.

They were
very stylish,
sure,

— but they also made
it very difficult for the
wearer to walk quickly
or to step onto a trolley
car, for instance.

They were actually
banned in many
municipalities
as unsafe.

And of course,
there were postcard
publishers along for
the ride, too.

Yep.

Versions of the
hobble skirt idea
still survive in
trendy fashion
today, I’ve noticed..

…. and I can see
how certain aspects
of the thing
could end
up being very…..

… errr ……
provocative.

.

!!! HOY !!!


( illustration by John Willie )

.

 

Pardon Me

Manners are a
wonderful
thing to a society.

They are the kinda thing
that makes every day life
feel pleasant and civilized –

And the absence of which
makes it a chore, a battle,
one long confrontation.

Everything from waiting
in line at the supermarket
to answering the phone
and driving down the road
are affected —

and simple things
that can make a
huge difference
to others, like
covering your mouth
when you sneeze,
washing your hands
after using the bathroom,
not using handicapped
parking spaces unless
you’re entitled to em,
ya know…
stuff like that.

And it seems as if
a lot of folks today
have forgotten
just how harsh
the ‘law of the jungle’
can be when basic
civilizing customs
are abandoned for
the sake of convenience,
laziness, or ignorance.

I learned
‘please’ and
‘thank you’
back in first grade —

but I get the
distinct feeling
that the curriculum
has been drastically
changed since then.

Not that I mind
showing my teeth
at the odd rude
person now and then..

but the necessity is
getting monotonously
regular these days……

Ahem.

Yes, now,
I know that I have
spouted on and on
about this same topic
before, so , since
profitless prattling
is in itself pretty
unmannerly, I will
simply point out that
this is, indeed, our
vintage postcard theme
for today, and ask your
kind indulgence with
my sincerest wish that
you enjoy them.

And to remind you
that bashing the back
of a guy’s foot with your
shopping cart can push
a man’s manners only so
far before the fangs come
out.

Sorry about any stains
you mighta got on ya
as a result.

.

!!! HOY !!!

Crackerjack Slang

Well,
I’ll have to admit,
we use a lot of slang
around here
at the
Muscleheaded Blog……..

I like to say
that a bit
of the blarney blarg
helps make my posts
almost completely
incomprehensible,
which is good ’cause
no one can take exception
to what I’m saying if they
don’t even understand
what the hell I’m even
talking about.

And if maybe a coherent
thought should slip
through every now
and then,
well…

what’s a salsa without
a little lime, chili and
cilantro?

(mushy tomatoes and
onions, mostly)

Errr.. my point ,
belabored as
it may be,
is:
{ if N=slang then
W+O+R+D+S (+N) }
makes up more than
the sum of it’s letters –

it’s a kinda code that really
doesn’t make any sense to
anyone except the people
who are in on the thing.

(and heaven only knows
who ‘they’ are)

Until it gets
out of the bag,
as it were,
and then,
it becomes part
of ‘popular parlance’.

Think about it.

At one time, only a small
group of people knew that
there was another meaning
to the word ‘beaver’ other
than just a cousin to the
honey badger.

But it spread.Related image

Umm…
I mean, the popularity of
the expression spread.

And now,
well…
you can jump
to your own conclusions.

Today, we’re attempting
to revive what were,
at one time,
very popular expressions…

(good luck
with that, right …. )

For instance,
you might remember
that the Victorians were
very touchy about
certain words,
and used substitutes
and insider slang to
replace the names
of stuff that they
didn’t like to talk about.

Testicles,
for instance.

Very touchy.

They called ’em
whirlygigs’.

Much better, huh?

But you had to
be quite a
‘whipster‘ to know
what they meant
when they said it.

And that’s what
this whole
whipt syllabus’
is all about.

Sorry to be such
a ‘whisk‘ about it…..

– but a guy’s gotta just
gaze at the melody‘,
ya know.

!!! HOY !!!

.

 

 

A Mess of Multiples

My long-time friend
Amy is expecting-

—- twins.

Her husband Gary
was a bit surprised
after the ultra-sound
about the whole
double-yer-pleasure
thing, but he’s
adjusting to it.

Yeah.

For some reason,
when she first told
me about it,
my mind cast
itself back to
another blessed event
involving multiple births
that happened around the
Depression Era up there in
the Great White North–

— The Dionne Quintuplets. 

They were the first quintuplets
born in North America that
were all known to have
survived the birth.

It was 1934 Ontario –
and those babies instantly
became celebrities –
the most famous
kiddie-winkies on Earth.

Unfortunately, there was a
great deal of wrangling and
money-grubbing involved,
because of their notoriety,
and the children were actually
taken from their parents and
made wards of the state for
a while.

The quint’s childhoods
had become about sales
and tourism.

It was an unabashed
economics issue for the family,
and a real cash-cow for the
numerous greedy ‘sponsors’,
governmental agencies,
and the media.

Their youth was a sad story
all around, and not the
charming one the pictures
from the era usually paint.

To my knowledge,
only two of the quints
still survive, Annette
and Cécile, living
quietly in a
suburb of Montreal.

When I told Amy the
story of the quints,
she kinda shuddered.

“Gary almost divorced
me over the two“,
she said.

While I doubt that
(she’s a real catch) –
she certainly brings
up an interesting point –

— the emotional/financial/
physical/mental/familial
stress and drama that
multiple births must put
on folks (on a day
to day basis!)
who find themselves
unexpectedly ..
.. blessed.

I’ve known plenty of
twins over the years
( Susie and Sandy
were my favorite dates
in my mid teens)
and I’ve always found
them pretty well adjusted.

Their parents, though —

Well, they always
seemed a bit :

Harried.

Stressed-out.

Panic-striken, even.

But, when some
Doctor tells you
that you’ve got
5 girls coming –

— when all you wanted
was a chip-off-the-
old-block who
could take over the
take-out-the dog chores
once in a while …..

Yoweeeeeeeeeee.

.

!!! HOY !!!

.