So I was repairing an old issue of North Western Druggist at the science library today when I saw this ad, and, because I am a mature adult, I photocopied it so I could show people and giggle about it.
It’s for Dean’s PeacocksReservoir End Prophylactics. Unique Health Feature and Fine Quality Make Peacocks Profit-Building Leaders in any Drug Store.
And then there’s a picture of the package, which I believe was a tin, next to what appears to be one forest ranger (either because peacocks live in national parks or because all forest rangers are gay (kidding!)) telling another about how great these condoms are.
For more volume and profit, sell Peacocks packed in dozens There’s a Peacock Prophylactic for every demand. Sold through Drug Stores ONLY
Dean’s Peacocks were (past-tense assumed) made by Dean Rubber MFG CO in North Kansas City, MO.
Education Management Corp runs 51 Art Institutes campuses in 25 states and Canada. The Art Institutes is a for-profit college that offers associate’s and bachelor’s degrees in fields such as graphic design, film-making, fashion design and culinary arts. The Art Institutes has experienced declining enrollment in the last few years.
The 15 campuses slated to shut down are Atlanta (Decatur), Fort Worth, Houston (North), Jacksonville, Kansas City, Michigan (Troy), New England, New York City, Cincinnati, Salt Lake City, Silicon Valley, Tinley Park, Washington (Dulles), Wisconsin and York. 36 locations will remain operational.
If you’ve ever seen a crate of Civil War rifles looking as if they were eaten and subsequently shat out by a kraken with a serious case of the asshole-barnacles, you know that shipwrecks aren’t normally a great source of pristine artifacts. But then, you’ve probably never seen the literal treasure trove recovered from the Arabia, a mid-19th-Century steamboat tasked with delivering goods to numerous frontier towns along the Missouri River. On September 5, 1856, the ship fell victim to a particularly dickish tree root and sank six miles north of Kansas City.
Fast forward to 1987. The Missouri River had diverted in the years since the calamity, and the treasure-hunting Hawley family determined that the Arabia now rested smack dab beneath a Kansas cornfield. When they painstakingly released the ship from its muddy grave, the Hawleys discovered that the oxygen-free tomb had kept it in relatively tip-top shape.
In even better condition was her nearly million-item cargo, with valuables ranging from guns to beaver hats to kitchen utensils to pre-Civil-War pickles, looking as fresh as the day they were shoved into a bottle by centuries-dead racists.
It’s Dean’s 37th birthday, which means he can see 40 looming in the distance like a too-deep pothole that he just can’t swerve around. He’s been dreading 37 since January 24th of last year, but tonight he’s not worried about it. Tonight, Sammy’s taking him to see his favorite comedian, live and in person at the Improv just north of Kansas City. Tonight, he’s (hopefully) gonna meet Jimmy Novak.
Dean circles the block a few times looking for a free place to park, but eventually sighs and ponies up the 15 bucks to park in the Improv lot. “‘S’alright, Sammy,” he says. “Anything for Jimmy Novak.”
Sam snorts. “You’re gonna be absolutely insufferable when we meet him, aren’t you?”
“Shut up, bitch,” Dean grunts. Alright, so maybe Dean kind of has a thing for Jimmy Novak. But who wouldn’t? He’s the funniest up-and-coming comedian this side of Aziz Ansari—not to mention he’s hot as hell.
He’s straight, dude, Dean’s brain pipes up. Dean tells his brain to fuck off. Nothing can get him down tonight.
They brace themselves against the freezing cold wind and cross the street. The Improv is all dark colors and moody lighting, but it’s warm inside and buzzing with excitement. The lobby is plastered with 11x17 posters of Jimmy Novak’s face. Dean coughs and rips one down, rolling it up and sticking it in his coat pocket.
“Smooth,” Sam whispers.
Dean just smirks and flips him off.
The show doesn’t start for another 45 minutes and doors won’t open until 7:30, so they hit up the fully-stocked bar to the side of the lobby and Dean gets them an El Sol each.
Sam holds his up in a toast. “Happy birthday, man. Just three more years until you go grey and you’re blind as a bat, just like Dad.”
Dean clinks beers with his brother. “Juuust you wait, bitch. You think that hair’s gonna last forever? It skips a generation. I give you ‘til 35, tops. You’ll be bald as grandpa by 2018, mark my words.”
Sam laughs and they take identical sips. Maybe 37 ain’t so bad, Dean thinks.
The bar starts to overflow with people, so they take their beers and migrate back through the lobby toward a couple of life-size standing posters of Jimmy. Dean refrains from taking a selfie with one of them. Sam offers to take his picture anyway. Dean makes a grumpy face on purpose, but he still strokes Jimmy’s face with the back of his hand. Sam laughs out loud.
They find a merch table partially obscured by the giant posters, and Dean walks around to the front to take it all in. A whole plethora of Jimmy Novak merchandise sits before them—t-shirts, autographed head shots and tour posters, DVDs of his standup specials, even his comedic autobiography, Talking to Myself.
“Oh, I gotta get one of these,” Dean says. Everything is signed in silver sharpie. Dean swipes his thumb over Jimmy’s signature and Sam rolls his eyes.
A gruff voice cuts through the noise of the room behind them. “Sorry guys, I’m coming,” the man says.
Dean wheels around and sees a mess of dark hair, blue eyes, and a rumpled coat and tie headed there way. “Dude,” he hisses. “It’s him. It’s Jimmy-freakin’-Novak.”
Sam turns, too, and frowns. “Are you sure?” he asks under his breath.
“Am I sure?” Dean scoffs. “I think I know Jimmy Novak when I see him.”
✈️ - Where are you from? I am from a small-ish town about 45 minutes north of Kansas City, Missouri.
📅 - Favorite time of the year? Autumn, easily. The weather is perfect and I love how nature looks, plus Halloween is my favorite holiday and I love all the activities that happen around this time of year.
✏ - Random fact about yourself. I was a derby girl for a short period. I had to choose between roller derby and theatre because I didn’t have time for both, and I chose theatre because that’s what I want as a career. I still use my skates almost every day to skate in my driveway.