Friday Ephemera (795)
It did not go entirely to plan. || Totally normal. || Itsy-bitsy. || Mrs Critchfield has a backyard business, 1953. || On the Batman effect. || Today’s words are body language. || Boasting of overcharging people based on their race. || Boob correction and other minor fixes. || Or maybe you could use a good moisturiser. || The more, the merrier. || The woman who moved her house 100 miles, 1975. || If size impresses you. (h/t, Elephants Gerald) || Chunky snow. || Incoming. || She has a racist chair. || On stealing $20, at knifepoint. || On deportations and legal creep. || A lively discussion regarding pizza – and $1. || The unspanked at large. || Puzzled look. || Coping. || Safety first. || Four Guineas a week and free hot water. || And finally, it’s waterproof, super-handy, and the edges are adhesive.
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You don’t see pipes of any kind much any more. In the 60s and early 70s most men, in the pre-boomer generation, at least tried smoking a pipe. My next door neighbour when I was growing up made pipes in his basement in his spare time. They were made of exotic woods and roots and were quite intricate. He had some very specific equipment in the basement used to make the pipes. He developed a reputation in the pipe world and made custom pipes for politicians, dignitaries, actors etc. It wasn’t unusual for a limo to pull up in front of the house and someone, usually in bespoke clothing, enter by the side door and leave half an hour later. It was kind of like living next door to a high end drug dealer.
His name was John Calich and his pipes were all hand-made.