We’re going way off-topic for this one. Some good advice, and bad advice, from days gone by. (After the jump.)
I’m going to go out on a limb and say that this “magic powder” is probably not such a good idea.Good advice. Lions are large, wild animals.I’m going to say “good advice.” Be your freaky self.Very bad idea.Uh, good advice? I mean, what the heck, it’s decent cardio, and you’re probably not going to sprain anything.Bad idea. Just say no to peer pressure!Uh, good advice? I mean, if you’re both consenting adults and not in monogamous relationships with anyone else, why the heck not?What? Sure, it’s good to plan for all contingencies, but you’re creeping me the fuck out.Bad idea. If animals start ordering you to do things, DO NOT LISTEN TO THEM. Animals cannot talk. Did you just take a massive dose of peyote? Try to remember.Uh, it’s dog food. It’s going to smell gross. Look on the internet to see what brands are safe and healthy like a normal person.I don’t know what the fuck is going on here but whatever you do, DO NOT DRINK ANY GROVE’S TASTELESS CHILL TONIC. I REPEAT, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT DRINK GROVE’S TONIC.
So because I’m curious like that I looked up the Phosferine Tonic Wine. Apparently all phosferine is is a mixture of quinine with a few other ingredients (originally phosphoric acid was one of them). And you can still get phosferine liquid online though it’s apparently now made with citric acid. I’m guessing the tonic wine just had that mixed with some form of alcohol. So a patent medicine version of a gin and tonic. I actually like tonic water with a little lime, no gin needed.
Policy of Madness
9 years ago
What? No ads for cocaine tablets, or Bayer’s Heroin?
Damn, Dave… I really wanted to try Grove’s Tasteless Chilled Tonic. Wanted to see how it stacked up to Yakov’s Elixir.
Banana Jackie Cake, the Best Jackie and Cake! Yum! (^v^)
9 years ago
I looked it up and that tasteless chill tonic was a malaria prevention medicine, which lessened the bitterness of quinine by adding some syrup and crasp to it. Considering that malaria makes it hard to eat and causes vomiting, it makes sense. In context.
Just to tie it back in to Menz Rightz somehow, that amphetamine one is the reason why women are no longer skinny, happy housewives like they used to be in the Good Old Days. The Good Old Days, it turns out, were only “good” because women were drugged to the gills to put up with all that shit. War, rationing, AND housework? Ugh, pass.
Buttercup Q. Skullpants
9 years ago
I learned the rope hustle and the line hustle in dancing school. Occasions on which I’ve used it since: zero.
Sometimes I wonder which staples of today’s conventional wisdom will be mocked 70 years from now. “Ha ha, those wacky people of the 2010s! They swallowed aspirin for headaches and put broken bones in casts, instead of downloading bioware upgrades from the holo-clinic!”
fruitloopsie
9 years ago
“Dance you fool” is pretty funny
I know how to do the hustle now and “teach your wife to be a widow” is creepy. Is he going to war or is going to commit suicide or what? And the last two grossed me out.
zoon echon logon
9 years ago
Look at the object in the guy’s hand in the “Teach your wife to be a widow” ad. This is clear, irrefutable evidence that the so called “iphone” existed long before They claim it was “invented.”
Wake up, sheeple!
proxieme
9 years ago
The pig-boy kind of looks like Bobby Hill.
That boy ain’t right, Ah tell ya hwhat.
Banana Jackie Cake, the Best Jackie and Cake! Yum! (^v^)
9 years ago
@proxieme
Assistant: That’s pig boy.
G.W. Bush: Pig-heart-transplant boy or pig-saving boy?
Assistant: Er, pig-body-transplant boy.
G.W. Bush: Uh…
sunnysombrera
9 years ago
Would like to make the point that nobody should “Get It On” while wearing roller skates. It’ll only end in tears.
“Do Not Tease A Lion” reminds me of the “don’t tease the panther” line from Glenn Beck’s magnum opus The Overton Window. The line is the hero’s way of warning the love interest that he’s a rapist.
Thanks, David, for making me remember that.
Banana Jackie Cake, the Best Jackie and Cake! Yum! (^v^)
I, in my late thirties, sat in on a couple of my mom’s lessons as dad (after receiving his cancer diagnosis) began teaching her to be a widow. Luckily, he didn’t stage them as the illustration with her sitting at his feet with important papers spilling untidily from her lap, her face questioning as she held up something that looked to be a checkbook or bank passbook.
She’s fine now, but recently, she said to me that she had felt very uncomfortable with widowhood leaving her “a 1938 nineteen at sixty-one” regarding finances, filing taxes, renewing car tags–numerous basic things that dad had done for decades without once thinking to include her in understanding the processes. He had sisters who were single and did these things for themselves. He knew that I had done these things for myself. But mom was his wife.
It surprised me–these rigid roles had happened right under my nose, and mom had to become his caretaker, deal with her grief and fear for the future, add to that extra things like her nervousness in driving him for chemo in heavier traffic along more unfamiliar routes than ever before in her “the husband is the driver” life. On top of that, she felt his impatience if she didn’t learn quickly enough all these lessons that he found to be imperative. You know how sometimes someone’s exact words stick with you for years and years? “The world is going to destroy you, Betty,” I heard him say to her once, when she hadn’t completely understood something he was trying to tell her about his retirement benefits.
I’ll never tell her that I was angry with my dad for making her feel more hapless while the thought of losing him was making her feel more hopeless. Of course not–it’s complicated with my own feelings of loss, after all. But it was still there.
Mari
9 years ago
The Tasteless Chill Tonic ad, creepy as it is, illustrates why being skinny was not always considered a plus. Plump babies and children especially tended to survive more than skinny ones. They still do in areas where diarrhea and the resulting dehydration is a major cause of death in children.
One of my kids was always very small for her age, in the zero percentile for weight and height. Every time we got a new doctor, they’d check her out from top to toe, ask how tall her grandmothers were, and announce, “It’s heredity.” That didn’t help when a mild stomach disorder was enough to leave her hollow-eyed and listless after just a few hours of diarrhea when she was three. After two hours on an IV, she was herself again, but I know that without modern medicine, we would likely have lost her. Now that’s a thought to give me the chills!
On a lighter note, it reminds me of a line from a Lois McMaster Bujold book about cultural tastes that appreciated women with enough body fat to survive minor famines.
Tessa
9 years ago
To be fair David, crows and ravens can learn to speak, and they are also quite intelligent. So if a crow happened to learn English and wished to give me helpful advice, I might just take it.
Mari
9 years ago
athyco, I’m sorry for your loss. I also understand your anger. I think there’s always an illogical feeling of being deserted when a loved one dies, and his comment was tactless. And, yes, there are somethings you just don’t say because they’ll hurt. Feelings are complicated.
But at least he gave your mother the information she needed to go on after his death. I remember cases in my neighborhood when I was a teenager where women were completely lost when their husbands died. One woman’s husband died intestate, and it turned out everything, including the car she’d paid for with her own wages, was in his name. His kids from a previous marriage insisted on their piece of the estate, and she had to sell her house. She’d worked throughout the marriage and handed him her paycheck. When he died, she not only had no credit rating and no knowledge of finances, she wasn’t entitled to all the property they’d accumulated together.
My sibs and I were afraid of a similar situation when my father died suddenly. But it turned out most of the accounts were in both their names, and my mother knew where every penny was allocated. She explained that he paid the bills, etc. because he enjoyed the task and she didn’t care. The only thing that was exclusively in his name was the phone because they’d read that obscene phone callers looked for women’s names in the phone book.
My parents were so certain that he would die first, she didn’t have a will and his left everything to her. When she died, he hadn’t paid a bill or driven a car for over a decade. He had to give my younger sister (who lived with them) power of attorney for six months while she taught him how to write checks and read a bank statement. The first time he saw a bill from the credit card company, he almost screamed; he thought the outstanding balance was what he had to pay that month.
Strange thing is, that’s what I do in my marriage – I bring in most of the money, and my husband takes care of the bills. I’ve been married twice, and both times with a man who is eerily similar to my mother.
Teach Your Wife to be a Widow? Is this seriously a book about how to be a widow?
Obviously the little Grove’s boy fell asleep with his pet pig. WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T FALL ASLEEP.
I actually dont know how to do the hustle so I thank you for the informative graphic.
By the way, did you guys know that Kevin McCarthy was Mary McCarthy’s brother?
Checked it out, and yes, is exactly that. You’d think that maybe *other widows* would be a good source of info?!
So because I’m curious like that I looked up the Phosferine Tonic Wine. Apparently all phosferine is is a mixture of quinine with a few other ingredients (originally phosphoric acid was one of them). And you can still get phosferine liquid online though it’s apparently now made with citric acid. I’m guessing the tonic wine just had that mixed with some form of alcohol. So a patent medicine version of a gin and tonic. I actually like tonic water with a little lime, no gin needed.
What? No ads for cocaine tablets, or Bayer’s Heroin?
http://io9.com/how-todays-illegal-drugs-were-marketed-as-medicines-510258499
Damn, Dave… I really wanted to try Grove’s Tasteless Chilled Tonic. Wanted to see how it stacked up to Yakov’s Elixir.
I looked it up and that tasteless chill tonic was a malaria prevention medicine, which lessened the bitterness of quinine by adding some syrup and crasp to it. Considering that malaria makes it hard to eat and causes vomiting, it makes sense. In context.
Still didn’t need to have a baby’s head on a pig.
Just to tie it back in to Menz Rightz somehow, that amphetamine one is the reason why women are no longer skinny, happy housewives like they used to be in the Good Old Days. The Good Old Days, it turns out, were only “good” because women were drugged to the gills to put up with all that shit. War, rationing, AND housework? Ugh, pass.
I learned the rope hustle and the line hustle in dancing school. Occasions on which I’ve used it since: zero.
Sometimes I wonder which staples of today’s conventional wisdom will be mocked 70 years from now. “Ha ha, those wacky people of the 2010s! They swallowed aspirin for headaches and put broken bones in casts, instead of downloading bioware upgrades from the holo-clinic!”
“Dance you fool” is pretty funny
I know how to do the hustle now and “teach your wife to be a widow” is creepy. Is he going to war or is going to commit suicide or what? And the last two grossed me out.
Look at the object in the guy’s hand in the “Teach your wife to be a widow” ad. This is clear, irrefutable evidence that the so called “iphone” existed long before They claim it was “invented.”
Wake up, sheeple!
The pig-boy kind of looks like Bobby Hill.
That boy ain’t right, Ah tell ya hwhat.
@proxieme
Assistant: That’s pig boy.
G.W. Bush: Pig-heart-transplant boy or pig-saving boy?
Assistant: Er, pig-body-transplant boy.
G.W. Bush: Uh…
Would like to make the point that nobody should “Get It On” while wearing roller skates. It’ll only end in tears.
@fruitloopsie: ???? Now it all comes together.
Also, BWAAAH!
https://youtu.be/NKmoze-hlXU
“Do Not Tease A Lion” reminds me of the “don’t tease the panther” line from Glenn Beck’s magnum opus The Overton Window. The line is the hero’s way of warning the love interest that he’s a rapist.
Thanks, David, for making me remember that.
@proxieme
That damned Roger I. Donald book. Ugh.
I, in my late thirties, sat in on a couple of my mom’s lessons as dad (after receiving his cancer diagnosis) began teaching her to be a widow. Luckily, he didn’t stage them as the illustration with her sitting at his feet with important papers spilling untidily from her lap, her face questioning as she held up something that looked to be a checkbook or bank passbook.
She’s fine now, but recently, she said to me that she had felt very uncomfortable with widowhood leaving her “a 1938 nineteen at sixty-one” regarding finances, filing taxes, renewing car tags–numerous basic things that dad had done for decades without once thinking to include her in understanding the processes. He had sisters who were single and did these things for themselves. He knew that I had done these things for myself. But mom was his wife.
It surprised me–these rigid roles had happened right under my nose, and mom had to become his caretaker, deal with her grief and fear for the future, add to that extra things like her nervousness in driving him for chemo in heavier traffic along more unfamiliar routes than ever before in her “the husband is the driver” life. On top of that, she felt his impatience if she didn’t learn quickly enough all these lessons that he found to be imperative. You know how sometimes someone’s exact words stick with you for years and years? “The world is going to destroy you, Betty,” I heard him say to her once, when she hadn’t completely understood something he was trying to tell her about his retirement benefits.
I’ll never tell her that I was angry with my dad for making her feel more hapless while the thought of losing him was making her feel more hopeless. Of course not–it’s complicated with my own feelings of loss, after all. But it was still there.
The Tasteless Chill Tonic ad, creepy as it is, illustrates why being skinny was not always considered a plus. Plump babies and children especially tended to survive more than skinny ones. They still do in areas where diarrhea and the resulting dehydration is a major cause of death in children.
One of my kids was always very small for her age, in the zero percentile for weight and height. Every time we got a new doctor, they’d check her out from top to toe, ask how tall her grandmothers were, and announce, “It’s heredity.” That didn’t help when a mild stomach disorder was enough to leave her hollow-eyed and listless after just a few hours of diarrhea when she was three. After two hours on an IV, she was herself again, but I know that without modern medicine, we would likely have lost her. Now that’s a thought to give me the chills!
On a lighter note, it reminds me of a line from a Lois McMaster Bujold book about cultural tastes that appreciated women with enough body fat to survive minor famines.
To be fair David, crows and ravens can learn to speak, and they are also quite intelligent. So if a crow happened to learn English and wished to give me helpful advice, I might just take it.
athyco, I’m sorry for your loss. I also understand your anger. I think there’s always an illogical feeling of being deserted when a loved one dies, and his comment was tactless. And, yes, there are somethings you just don’t say because they’ll hurt. Feelings are complicated.
But at least he gave your mother the information she needed to go on after his death. I remember cases in my neighborhood when I was a teenager where women were completely lost when their husbands died. One woman’s husband died intestate, and it turned out everything, including the car she’d paid for with her own wages, was in his name. His kids from a previous marriage insisted on their piece of the estate, and she had to sell her house. She’d worked throughout the marriage and handed him her paycheck. When he died, she not only had no credit rating and no knowledge of finances, she wasn’t entitled to all the property they’d accumulated together.
My sibs and I were afraid of a similar situation when my father died suddenly. But it turned out most of the accounts were in both their names, and my mother knew where every penny was allocated. She explained that he paid the bills, etc. because he enjoyed the task and she didn’t care. The only thing that was exclusively in his name was the phone because they’d read that obscene phone callers looked for women’s names in the phone book.
Anyone for a chorus of ‘Mother’sLittleHelper’ ?
My parents were so certain that he would die first, she didn’t have a will and his left everything to her. When she died, he hadn’t paid a bill or driven a car for over a decade. He had to give my younger sister (who lived with them) power of attorney for six months while she taught him how to write checks and read a bank statement. The first time he saw a bill from the credit card company, he almost screamed; he thought the outstanding balance was what he had to pay that month.
Strange thing is, that’s what I do in my marriage – I bring in most of the money, and my husband takes care of the bills. I’ve been married twice, and both times with a man who is eerily similar to my mother.
Now I want some Tasteless Chill Tonic.