Wednesday, December 16, 2015

1977 JC Penney Catalog OR "How To Get Your @$$ Kicked" - Haha!


The world is a bit too serious so please, check this out, share it, re-post it and laugh! 

Life is meant to be enjoyed. This catalog is real & hysterical and the captions are priceless! 


Welcome to my childhood. 

Original post is HERE 

* * *

Last weekend I put an exhaust fan in the ceiling for my wife's grandfather. While my wife's brother and I were fitting the fan in between the joists, we found something under the insulation. 

What we found was this:


A JC Penney catalog from 1977. Holy hell, this was two solid inches of it, right there for the taking. 

I thumbed through it quickly and found my next dining room set, which is apparently made by adding upholstery to old barrels: 




Also, I am totally getting this for my bathroom:


 


There's plenty more home furnishings where those came from, however I'm not going to bore you with that. Instead, I'm going to bore you with something else. The clothes.

                                                                

The clothes are fantastic.


Here's how to get your ass kicked in elementary school:


Just look at that belt. He probably needed help just to lift it into place. 
 


                                    How to get your ass kicked in high school:



This kid looks like he's pretending to be David Soul, who is pretending to be a cop, who is pretending to be a pimp that everyone knows is really an undercover cop. Who is pretending to be 15. 


Here's how to get your ass kicked on the golf course:

 

This "all purpose jumpsuit" is, according to the description, equally appropriate for playing golf or simply relaxing around the house. 

Personally, I can't see wearing this unless you happen to be relaxing around your cell in D-block.



Here's how to get your ass kicked pretty much anywhere: 


If you look at that picture quickly, it looks like "No-pants" has his hand in the other guy's pocket. In this case, he doesn't, although you can tell just by looking at them that it's happened - or if it hasn't happened it will. Oh yes. It will. As soon as he puts down his matching coffee cup. 


Here's how to get your ass kicked at the beach:


Is he reaching for a gun? Naw, probably just a bottle of suntan lotion in a holster. 


How to get your ass kicked in a meeting:




If you wear this suit and don't sell used cars for a living, I believe you can be fined and face serious repercussions, up to and including termination. Or imprisonment, in which case you'd be forced to wear that orange jumpsuit up there.


        How to get your ass kicked every day up to & including St. Patrick's Day:



Dear God in heaven, I don't believe that color exists in nature. There is NO excuse for wearing either of these ensembles unless you're working as a body guard for the Lucky Charms leprechaun.


                                  In this next one, Your Search For VALUE ends at Penney's.  

As does your search for chest hair: 


And this -- seriously.  No words.

  
Oh wait, it turns out that there are words after all. 

Those words are What. The.****.   

I'm guessing the snap front gives quick access to chest hair. The little tie must be the pull tab.


Also, judging by the sheer amount of matching his/hers outfits, I'm guessing that in 1977 it was considered pretty stylish for couples to dress alike. 

These couples look happy, don't they?




                I am especially fond of this one, which I have titled, "Cowboy Chachi Loves You Best."  



Nothing showcases everlasting love more than the commitment of matching bathing suits:



After the lovin', relax in one-piece matching terry cloth jumpsuits: 




I could go on, but I'm tired, and my eyes hurt from this trip back in time. I think it's the colors. 


That said, I will leave you with these tasteful little numbers:



                                                                           Man, that's sexy. 

 

Thursday, December 10, 2015

Amina Masood Janjua: Voice of Missing Persons




© Amina Masood Janjua


This video is the result of a live interview conducted with my dear sister, Mrs. Amina Masood Janjua, CEO of DHR (Defence of Human Rights and Public Service Trust) one of the few human rights activist organizations founded by the victims of the violation of human rights founded by Amina after the wrongful abduction of her husband Mr. Masood Janjua.

To aid Amina and other families in their quest to find family members wrongfully abducted, please go here --> http://www.dhrpk.org/

My love and peace to you Amina, keep fighting the good fight. I am so proud of your strength and courage and my hope is that this video, on Human Rights Day, and everyday, brings you peace, love and hope.





Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Waking Up To Consciousness


Published in Rebelle Society


 © Susan Marie 


You know those moments when you thought, “Wow, I almost died!”

Right now, I can feel a scar on the side of my neck left by an innocent bee that stung me in September, and once again, I almost died.

Yet, I am alive.

I look at such times as windows. Portholes in life where one small instance, a millisecond, saved our lives.

Each instance causes me to question my path, purpose, every fiber of my being and those connected to me and this immense human family I belong to — all of us swirling around in a globe, wondering why we are here.

There are times that you simply must capture, just for a moment. The start of each day before it begins, when birds trill selflessly against a beyond cerulean sky.

Listen, do you hear that?  
Shh. Go ahead, open the window, walk outside. 
Take a look around you and do not forget to look UP. 

Harness that every day, right now, bring that into yourself, the woods and forests, the turns and paths, the leaves and trees and Earth. Take a walk, work in your garden, play with your children, create art, write, sing, dance, whatever it is that you do that brings you to life — that feeling — harness that.

Catch first morning rays breaking through limbs when the dew kisses the leaves, ever so loving.

Stand with your back against the spine of Mother Nature, tilt your head upwards, maniacal, and be happy planted pure, in her face, the dirt, her blood, the bones, her roots, your feet, and feel complete because my dear soul, you are home.

Walking out of nature, energy shoots right out of my back between my shoulder blades. A celestial shotgun to the sternum — shazam!

The entire front of me guarded, preparing me for stepping back into society. In those moments, I am weightless and able to fly, and I spread my wings — glorious and majestic — and thank Dear Earth for unblocking what keeps me chained to myself. I realize then the extent of the power of consciousness.


It is a blessing to walk into this. Everybody is in a rush, caught up in whatever. 

I am mesmerized by the sun, the way she dances and dapples, illuminating leaves with paprika and turmeric. The veil is with me always, where I am able to move my hand, lucid and glass-like, lifting silken skirts of varied states of existence.

I blankly stare at people walking and kids riding bikes, and somehow, I don’t belong; somehow, I’m somewhere else; somehow, my spirit is screaming to be let free; somehow, I’m here, yet somehow no one notices me.

Two worlds within one: illusion, reality.

Traffic traffic, traffic… there’s got to be more to life than waiting. How do we live like this? Look at this! Look at us all, turning and waiting and going, and everybody is suddenly addicted to being busy. What are you busy with?

What is your purpose?

Why are you here?

Where did you come from?”

I am a bastard child of the new world.