A few nights ago, Mr. Rilch and I were at a gathering that included a guy who just turned 31. Heck if I remember how we got on the subject, but he said he’s never had sex without using a condom. I’m just old enough to remember all the griping about “It ruins the mood…doesn’t feel the same.”
Or sometimes, nothing but potatoes!
(TBT this isn’t real which is almost a shame. But it was well done; the address exists in Studio City and the POplar 9 exchange was used for phone numbers in the neighborhood.)
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Recently an anti-abortion protestor referred to the people going into the Women’s Clinic as “girls.”
After I got control of my dropped jaw, I said “You are referring to grown up adults as “girls.” What are they, little young immature people who need a MAN to tell them what they should do. Are they children who can’t think for themselves?” Then noticing the African-American security guard standing outside the clinic, I said “Are you going to call him a ‘boy’”? The man looked at the protester and said in a very quite, calm voice “I don’t think you want to do that.”
What other people today would refer to grown up people by a children’s term?
I’ve noticed a clear and distinct difference in behavior between 20th-century pets and 21st-century pets.
My 20th-century pets, which included cats and dogs and hamsters and guinea pigs and rabbits and tropical fish and turtles and a ferret were all cool, empathetic team-players. They treated me with respect and we were all pals.
But, my 21st-century pets, which have included cats and dogs and gerbils and hamsters and tropical fish and turtles and a guinea pig have all been passive-aggressive assholes. They give me the stink eye and show [fake] affection only when they want something from me. Oh, and I just love waking up to one of my cat’s asses in my face. Accidental? I think not.
Greatest Gen and Boomer pets were awesome. Gen X, Y and Z pets should all be sent to the slaughterhouse…and they better get off my lawn.
I’ve read this entire thread, and I think this is the funniest post yet. Kudos!
It’s neither regression nor progression. It’s the marketplace in action. The local businesses are responding to what the local populace (as a whole) wants.
Funny how? I mean, what’s funny about it?
You mean, let me understand this … cuz I … maybe it’s me? Maybe I’m a little fucked up, maybe?
I’m funny how, I mean funny like I’m a clown? I amuse you?
I make you laugh? I’m here to fuckin’ amuse you? Waddya mean “funny”? Funny how? How am I funny?
Bada bing! 
Many millions of them.
Pesci really deserved that Oscar. Unnerving and terrifying performance.
The diners near me still do it. There’s a little spoon in the bowl of mints, so that people don’t touch the mints with their hands. The bowl is right by the cashier, so anyone trying to put their hand in would be seen by the cashier and/or other diners. (It might help that I’m in the NY area, so people wouldn’t be shy about telling someone off if they tried something gross.)
Those spoons work great until some moron thinks it’s there to put the mints directly into their mouth.
This is why I limit my restaurant food tampering to things on the table like salt & pepper shakers, condiment bottles, chili oil pots, oil & vinegar cruets, etc.
To be fair, the creator of MULE was actually Dan Berry when the game was written. Dan had reassignment surgery and became Dani a few years later. Which is itself something that, IIRC, would have been shocking in the 1980s…
S/he also created Seven Cities of Gold, another big game of the time.
Speaking of the mailbox flag, we lived in a one of L A.'s relatively remote neighborhoods when I was growing up, and the mail carriers always took your outgoing mail if you put the flag up.
I saw the opposite arrangement once in a very old movie which actually provided a close-up view of how the main character’s mailbox worked. The weight of delivered mail placed in the box caused a lever to raise the flag. The flag’s purpose was to notify the homeowner that there was mail for them, rather than to notify the mail carrier that there was outgoing mail to be collected.
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There was a variation of that which automatically raised a small yellow (incoming) flag whenever the box was opened. Yellow to distinguish between the outgoing red flag. Makes sense if your mailbox is at the end of a long driveway as long as you can see it from the house. You had to reset it when you picked up the mail delivery.
Shocking enough that it basically killed her career in the industry.
Believe it or not, when I started working out at UCLA’s John Wooden Recreation Center in the early 1990s, nobody carried hand towels to wipe down the benches/machines before or after every set. It was a frigging gym, and you were bound to get other people’s cooties on you, and nobody cared.
Now you wouldn’t dare do that at a healrh club. If you arrive without a wipe-down towel and they don’t provide towel service, you’d best go home or buy yourself another one at a nearby store before you start to exercise.
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I went over to Mike’s house and we sat and rapped for hours (not exactly zero sense, but …)
I remember when my school (an ethnically mixed HS) was talking about banning cake cutters. Do you understand why?
And don’t even think about peeing in the shower.
It took me years to get over losing 214 and having to adopt 972.