Last weekend I put an exhaust fan in the ceiling
for my wife's grandfather. While my wife's brother
and I were fitting the fan in between the joists,
we found something under the insulation. What
we found was this:
A JC Penney catalog from 1977. It's not often
blog fodder just falls in my lap, but holy hell this
was two solid inches of it, right there for the
taking. I thumbed through it quickly and found
my next dining room set, which is apparently
made by adding upholstery to old barrels:
Also, I am totally getting this for my bathroom:
There's plenty more home furnishings where
those came from, however I'm not going to bore
you with that. Instead, I'm going to bore you
with something else. The clothes.
The clothes are fantastic.
Here's how to get your a s s kicked in elementary school:
Just look at that belt. It's like a boob-job
for your pants. He probably needed help
just to lift it into place. The belt loops have
to be three inches long. And way to pull
them up to your armpits, grandpa.
Here's how to get your a s s kicked in high school:
This kid looks like he's pretending to be David
Soul, who is pretending to be a cop who is
pretending to be a pimp that everyone knows
is really an undercover cop. Who is pretending
to be 15.
Here's how to get your a s s kicked on the golf course:
This "all purpose jumpsuit" is, according to
the description, equally appropriate for playing
golf or simply relaxing around the house.
Personally, I can't see wearing this unless you
happen to be relaxing around your cell in D-block.
Even then, the only reason you should put this
thing on is because the warden made you, and
as a one-piece, it's slightly more effective as a
deterrent against a s s-rapery.
Here's how to get your a s s kicked pretty much anywhere:
If you look at that picture quickly, it looks like
Mr. Bob "No-pants" Saget has his hand in the
other guy's pocket. In this case, he doesn't,
although you can tell just by looking at them
that it's happened - or if it hasn't happened
it will. Oh yes. It will. As soon as he puts
down his matching coffee cup.
Here's how to get your a s s kicked at the beach:
He looks like he's reaching for a gun, but you
know it's probably just a bottle of suntan lotion
in a holster.
How to get your a s s kicked in a meeting:
If you wear this suit and don't sell used cars
for a living, I believe you can be fined and face
serious repercussions, up to and including
termination. Or imprisonment, in which case
you'd be forced to wear that orange jumpsuit.
How to get your a s s kicked on every day up
to and including St. Patrick's Day:
Dear god in heaven, I don't believe that color
exists in nature. There is NO excuse for wearing
either of these ensembles unless you're working as
a body guard for the Lucky Charms leprechaun.
In this next one, Your Search For VALUE Ends at Penneys:
As does your search for chest hair.
And this -- Seriously. No words.
Oh wait, it turns out that there are words after
all. Those words are What. The. F*ck. I'm guessing
the snap front gives you quick access to the chest
hair. The little tie must be the pull tab.
Also, judging by the sheer amount of matching
his/hers outfits, I'm guessing that in 1977 it was
considered pretty stylish for couples to dress
alike. These couples look happy, don't they?
I am especially fond of this one, which I have
entitled "Cowboy Chachi Loves You Best."
And nothing showcases your everlasting love
more than the commitment of matching bathing
suits. That, and a blonde girl with a look on her
face that says "I love the way your junk fights
against that fabric."
Then, after the lovin', you can relax in your
one-piece matching terrycloth jumpsuits:
I could go on, but I'm tired, and my eyes hurt
from this trip back in time. I think it's the colors.
That said, I will leave you with these tasteful little
numbers:
Man, that's sexy.
NOTE: This has been recreated here from my
source strictly for your entertainment.
...........................................Blackbeauty