The Daily Retro: Smoking Horse

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It’s What’s For Dinner

No,
I’m not
threatening you.

And I’m not
saying that
you really have
to eat any
of this awful
looking stuff….

it’s just another
one of my posts
(like this one)
about advertising
that’s supposed
to convince you that
something that would
otherwise make you
wanna wretch won’t
actually do that to you,
should you be a
cooperative enough
consumer to try the
recipe or product
in question.

I probably could have
said that in a simpler way,
if I had really thought
about it, but the sooner
I get away from these
things the better,
so I’m posting these
pretty much on the run.

Which is probably what
you’re gonna get if you’re
damn fool enough to
make any of this stuff.

Yuck-o.

Maybe folk’s ideas about
what does and does not
look appetizing has changed –

– – I dunno —

but if my Mom was
using these as examples ,

I have to wonder how
I even survived childhood.

It does explain an awful
lot about her cooking,
though.

I always thought it was
just cause she was Irish.

Oh, while I’m on the subject,
let me give you some advice –

– if you’re ever in Dublin,
and you see a Bacon
sandwich on the menu —
— don’t order it.

It’s not bacon —
it’s fucking ham.

I can’t understand how
an nice and otherwise
very civilized country
like Éire would
confuse the two, but…
those wonderful
damned Canadians
seem to make the
same mistake, so …

Hey, and another thing —

if you insist on going to
Cork and kissing the
Blarney Stone, don’t
wear the Irish green
tartan kilt you special
ordered for the trip.

You see, there’s this old guy
who has to support you
while you grab the bars
and flip yourself into the
correct and required
‘kiss somebody else’s ass’
position —

and what he’ll do
while your bollocks are
almost completely defenseless
is anybody’s business but mine.

Just sayin.

All I can tell you is you’ll
probably feel just as queasy
after that experience as
when first you read this post.

Which, obviously,
is sayin’ somethin.

Umm… I guess.

I dunno, now …

What the hell was I
talking about, anyway?

! HOY !

(Thanks to Mis Lucja 
for some of these images! )

.

More Candy

My post today has
me echoing a phrase
I used a lot when I
was just a young buck
out trick or treating
— “More Candy !”

Of course, what I meant then
was kinda different than
what I mean today,
as you will soon see —

— but the thrust of
the subject
was the same —

cause, who don’t
like candy, right ?

If it’s good enough
for the damn
Dionne Quintuplets,
it should be damn
good enough
for us.

And before you
mention it, I’m
very well aware
that I opened with a
picture of what was
not candy at all,
but chewing gum –
cause it was my
FAVORITE  —
Fruit Stripe Gum.

Man, you just didn’t get
15 seconds of flavor
like that anywhere else.

After that, of course,
it was chewing
rubber sealant,
(like any other gum
at the time)
but those 15 seconds–
—- wowie.

So anyhoo —

I called this post
‘more candy’
cause some of
you long suffering
regular readers may
recall that I posted
about vintage candy
before —
here.

Hmmm….

It’s not that I have
anything new to say
about candy since
the post aforementioned…
although I did acquire
some cool vintage ads ….

And even though I
no longer imbibe
in the stuff because
my poor ole teeth
won’t stand for it —

I can still reminisce a bit
and remember the stuff
that wrecked my dental
work in the first place.

Actually, I was hoping
to put kinda a dirty spin
on the candy theme,
but it ain’t as easy
as it might sound —

— despite me being an
expert on spinning
anything innocent
into something
instantly ribald —

I must be getting old.

Still, there’s always hope.

Does it help if I say that
I used to date a stripper
who used the name
( a nom-de-burlesque)
Candy Stryper ” ?

Oh..
I guess not.

Ok, well…

She was a very
sweet girl, anyway.

Like I said before-
MORE CANDY !!!!

!!!! HOY !!!!