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Cartoon fun

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1938

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The Navy Swings!

The Navy Swings with Dick Stabile and Della Reese The Navy Swings with Dick Stabile and Della Reese II

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Easy Street

Love this song! Love this rendition!  Solid, Martha, solid!

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Yeah? And what else?

I don't care if I did upset the jam, And I won't say I'm sorry til I feel as if I am. I'm glad I yelled at Granny and I'm glad I pulled her hair. You can put me in a corner, too -- but I don't care. I know that I am naughty if I breathe into my glass. And I'm glad I called my uncle Joe a silly, stupid ass. I'll go off to America and be a millionaire, And then you'll have no children left -- but I don't care. I'll go into the garden when the snow is deep and high Without any shoes and stockings on and catch a cold and die. I'll put a noose around my neck and jump off of a chair. You'll be a pair of orphans then -- but I don't care.

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No photos!

When I was dancing for the boys back in the day, it was absolutely verboten to take pictures inside the club.  Privacy, I guess, was the main concern -- for the girls and the patrons -- as well as avoiding the annoyance of camera flashes going off all the time.  But nowadays?  I wonder.  I haven't been inside any kind of adult entertainment venue since before the advent of smart phones and ubiquitous low-light-capable cameras.  I imagine it would be hard to stop people taking pictures unless cell phones were banned.  Maybe they are. My view is that if there is to be some exoticism and mystery surrounding such establishments, no photos should be allowed.  If anyone can see what goes on there, and can realize it's nothing much different that what goes on in the sleaziest strip joint out by the airport, why would they bother to pay top dollar to patronize them? Okay, the girls are, as a rule, younger, prettier and in better shape than those that appear at the shadier dives, but still .... Oh, well, just a stray thought I had.  What do I really care?  Enjoy the accompanying art! C'est moi tout craché !  (Or it used to be....)

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Cool jazz!

I'm a fan of mid-to-late Fifties and early Sixties jazz, as I may have mentioned, and here's a nice 15-minute program of just such from April 27, 1965.  Enjoy! And, oh yeah -- Navy OCS!  It's a beautiful thing!  Heh. The Navy Swings with Joe Williams

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Promise?

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Heh!

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Testify!

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Light and shadow

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Nom nom nom!

Loading a B-50D engine into a C-124A.

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Maybe it's just a way to escape

"Dancers are the athletes of God."

~ Albert Einstein

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Giddy-up!

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Blows on fingernails,polishes them on sleeve

(Um ... okay, see, if I comment somewhere, I pick a generic, non-gendered user name because, first of all, I don't think what sex I am has any relevancy to information and opinion exchange, and second of all, I want to avoid being harassed by the usual creeps and women-haters that infest the internet -- as well as real life! But somehow, sooner or later, somebody always seems to figure it out, and then, of course, they have to blab to the world about it, as if it is some kind of big deal.  That's usually when I stop commenting and move on.  Oh, well.)

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Well, haven't we all done that?

And I bet that if you haven't done that, you really wish you had. And you know it. I've also done this with my gal pal, and when we found out about it, we  just had a giggle.

Actually, you know, it does.  I can't explain why, but it's true,and I think that's one reason the prudes and the prigs hate people like me.  They know they are missing out on a big part of life and they both envy and resent those of us who are not.  They insinuate,  if not outright say, the most nasty things about us, and when we don't cringe and cower in the face of their moral self-righteousness, they double-down on their outrage.  But we just laugh at them, if not out loud, inwardly.  And we just go on doing what we are doing. Incidentally, I've known a girl or two to pork such a harridan's husband just to get back at her.  Happy husband,  finally getting some prime.

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A very good question

It's possible -- and the more I think about it the more likely it seems -- that there is really nothing going on.  It's all just a random jumble of this and that...sound and fury signifying nothing as the Bard put it.  (I always wanted to use the phrase "the Bard"; what's  a "bard" anyway?  *Trots off to look it up* )