Monocle Monday: Cracker jack idea

Am I smoking banana peels or has it been, like, fucking forever* since we had a Monocle Monday?

via.

This card was found in undetermined vintage Cracker Jack boxes, along with the advertised Sport Monocle, I assume. Not to be confused with a formal monocle — god, can you imagine? Tea and crumpets, what a faux pas That would be.



*I’m sorry for the king-sized cuss, but the situation of “forever” being infinite, rendering me nowhere near correct, called for a modifier to distance myself from the hyperbole, and “fucking” was the best one. Skip the beating and just take my lunch?

Just another Monocle Monday: Heathers edition

via The Millikan Daily right here on the wordpress.

Grow up, Heather: bulimia is so 1987.

Winona Ryder rocks a monocle in Heathers (Michael Lehmann, 1989). Look for a Heathers movie moment one of these days soon. Maybe a millisecond later today as a foretaste, even.

Monocle Monday: Dino-mite tat edition

Happy Monocle Monday, dino-mite edition!

If you must get a tattoo, I will not make too much noise over this one, chitlins.

This shot pretty much fires “awesome” on all six cylinders; if I had a gun to my head and someone was like, “You HAVE to get a tattoo to prove you believe in at least one thing, E, or we will kill the people you love most!” I would frantically shout back, “Okay, okay! — I assume I will never stop thinking a t-rex sporting a monocle with top hat and balloon bouquet is pretty great, so, fine — tattoo that on my untouched milky skin, you fiend!” and be pretty much okay with it. (Seriously, my skin is caramel-macchiato-con-skim-leche-fine paradise. You will probably never experience it. What is that like, suckaaaa?)

Just another Monocle Monday: Ms. Carolyn Wells edition

“A cynic is a man who looks at the world with a monocle in his mind’s eye.” — Carolyn Wells (1862-1942): librarian, mystery writer, poet, absurdist, Jersey girl, baseball aficionado; heroine.

Via timbravo on the tumblr. Hell and goddang if that is not just about the g’est picture of a little kid I have ever seen.

Ms. Well’s famous limerick abount canny canners:

A canner exceedingly canny
One morning remarked to his granny:
“A canner can can
Any thing that he can
But a canner can’t can a can, can he?”

Illustration from Such Nonsense.

The awesome Ms. Wells, who began her literary career as a librarian in Rahway, NJ, had a binary-brained love of both words and wordplay, resulting in the kind of mind that invents riddles and complex, skillful patterns out of what appears to be nonsense. She compiled and published an anthology of clever verses by herself, some friends, and great absurd poets of the past who she admired called Such nonsense! an Anthology through George H. Doran Company, New York, in 1918. Some of the authors included in the anthology are G. K. Chesterton, Rudyard Kipling, William Makepeace Thackeray, Carroll, and W. S. Gilbert. You can read the entirety of the volume on the googlebooks, one of the seemingly last bastions that values lit without lumping it alongside lattes and shitty cd samplers of some Juilliard sophomore covering Bessie Smith. You know the kind of horrible CD sampler I am talking about:

Via officineottiche on the tumblr.

All black and white picture of the skinny blonde singer playing piano on the cover with her eyes closed, all you push the button on the screen to hear a sample and it sounds immediately like she has grown up on at least a quarter acre with probably a pony that she rode in jodphurs until she decided she wanted to be a ballerina instead but she was never so vulgar or interesting as to imagine combining the two interests and she is presently dating a trust fund guy with dreads who was obsessively checking his iTouchPhonesALot thingy the entire time she was in the studio making what we are broadly defining as a “record,” the record apparently being a record of the time some flat chick from upstate New York saw a homeless guy pawing through the trash in front of the Dean and Deluca and decided that because she had Feelings about it, she now had the right to perform herself some blues and has now come at the undertaking metaphorically wearing goggles and carrying a graduated cyllinder. (“Blues, this is going to hurt you a lot more than it hurts me.”)

Like so many times with me, that got way out of hand. I’m not sorry, but I am a little disappointed in myself. Seriously, though, dudes. Fuck the megabookstores: save the libraries.

Seen in several places. I choose not to credit until I can find an original source.

That last shot reminds me — PSA: I have pretty eyes. In fact, I have the prettiest brown eyes. Did You Know? Established fact, suckas. [citation needed]

Monocle Monday: Monocle application by Idea Machine edition

Monocle is a simple search tool that puts a universal search field at your disposal. When you want search, you can choose from a number of engines to perform the search in different places. Monocle comes preloaded with engines for Google, Wikipedia, Windows Live Search and Yahoo! Search. You can easily add your own engines by performing an example search inside a web browser window in Monocle. (source)

This is in no way an endorsement of that Mac App. I have never used it and likely never will, as I have had the same phone since 2005 and will probably continue to have it until it literally falls apart in my hands because I have grown to believe that I, myself, am built-in obsolescence personified, and everything I learn to use and grow accustomed to must immediately fall out of human use and knowledge, so that I remain freakishly anachronistic in my understanding of technology.

Et tu, Bender, my metal and small and doesn’t judge me at all robot friend? Then you can all keep your fancy-dancy iPhones and droids, and be sure to bite our shiny metal asses.

I believe there is always a person like this in every group that is behind the crest of the trend by deliberate choice, a lone cowboy on an uneasy horse at the edge of the horizon, never quite part of the pack of trailblazers, always slightly at a remove from the rest of society just in case this next invention is that society’s downfall, and in this generation among those I am close to, I apparently have taken on that mantle. Mmm, Apocalypse Bean Soup — with hamhock, even? Wow, thanks, cowpoke! Just like I like it!

So, yes, I know nothing about this newfangled Monocle app folderol. I just like the ads, don’t you?

Monocle Monday: Flyass Daryl Hannah edition (giant topless picture, so mainly NSFW)

Miss Daryl Christine Hannah is looking very flyass indeedy. It’s not just any ol’ lady who can sport a monocle and still look g as all heck.

I said goddamn, Daryl Hannah. Haters to the left! Coolest lady ever.

ME: One thing I learned [from the Playboy project of NSFW November] is that I guess it turns out I am kind of obsessed by Daryl Hannah. I didn’t even realize that!
HRH: Oh, I did.
ME: Really?
HRH: You talk about her a lot, more than you hear most people do. And you know way more about her than anyone normally knows about Daryl Hannah.
ME: But she’s so cool! I thought everyone thought that… I thought everyone talked about her and knew about her.
HRH: You are pretty much the only person I have ever heard talk about her.
ME: (wonderingly) I think about her all the time. How do other people not?
HRH: I don’t know. But you are making up for it.

Okay, so an eyepatch is not a monocle (it actually serves as sort of the cross purpose), but it is an accessory intended for use on only one eye; plus, you must admit that she is positively rocking that fabulous Moschino trench coat.

Daily Batman: Enter the Penguin (giant picture edition!)

Why was I not included in Monocle Monday?

Total oversight. Getcha next time, buddy!

Just another Monocle Monday

It’s Monocle Monday, because why not? Monocles: they are a Thing.

Robert Downey, Jr., check out his debut studio album.

Jeremy Irons has opinions about the Seven Deadly Sins.

Conrad Veidt was once Cesare — he came, he saw, he conquered Expressionist film.

Of course, it is not always so black and white in this world…

Madwoman and fashionista to the stars, Pat Field is often not much my style, but I must always commend distinctiveness.

Happy Monocle Monday!