Thursday, August 1, 2013

Suburban Housewives of the Fifties

Post-war Amërïkä was a time of wide-eyed optimism, crew cuts and large powerful automobiles, designed not by computers, but by men with an eye towards Art Nouveau craftsmanship and quarter mile drag racing. Idyllic scenes like this were commonplace in the ever-expanding suburbs.

Naugahyde and cat litter were exciting new developments as were fabric softener and training wheels.
Vacuum cleaners were still hand actuated and washing machines were powered by large, coal-fired boilers located deep within the dark industrial underbelly, far below the hustle and bustle of city streets.

A man could still buy a cup of coffee and a large pickle for thirty cents. The coffee was imported from Columbia by handsome, well-groomed pack mules and was always freshly ground. And the pickles, O the pickles! They were plump and tasty, fished out of a giant wooden barrel with a pair of stainless steel tongs by the friendly, neighborhood grocer.

Sadly, the once-thought impenetrable armor started to develop chinks, which went largely unnoticed, as venom began leaking out of Amërïkän universities and institutes of higher learning. Mr. Green Jeans and The Lone Ranger began filling the daytime television airways with hypnotic dogma and cardboard.

There were no dysfunctional families in suburbia because moms would routinely gather in well-groomed backyards for a topless coffee klatch where they would exchange recipes and furtive glances. When the coffee ran low and an awkward lull in conversation occurred, they'd tickle each other with dandelions and playfully shove freshly mowed grass clippings down each others panties.


  1. Oddball . . . Ughmerikan History told right, love it.

  2. The day's before implant's, when things were as they seemed.

  3. Panties? They wore Panties... Hey , wait a minute... That's my Aunt Phillis Front Row Left!!! I always liked her Best!

  4. Well done Hermit. The only thing that could improve this histeriaory lesson would be an accompanying photo of the men folk pantless at bowling night.

  5. Whitey, our text books were filled with revisionist history and instructions on how to duck and cover during a nuclear attack.

    B.C. I prefer my boobies to be made of real flesh as God intended.

    Paul, Panties or no panties, I'm so diggin' Aunt Phyllis!

    Laura, The "Right to Bare Penis" was stricken from the Bill of Rights in 1947.

  6. Replies
    1. You're too kind Diesel. I'm an admitted Zon-ophile and would love to someday check out your stable of classic iron.
      Keep the incredible photos coming too buddy.