Saturday, August 18, 2012

I love a little pussy: the Edsel connection



Now I've got Edsels on the brain.




You know, those cars from the '50s that kinda-sorta-didn't catch on.

The ones that languished in showrooms, then used car dealerships (most of them not even used), then. . . automobile graveyards like this one.




Like the elephants in the  Tarzan movies, maybe these poor abandoned Edsels somehow knew when it was their time, and just chuffed along to the junkyard all by themselves.




But one thing we'll never forget is that useless, metallic hunk of junk stuck on at the front, variously called a horsecollar, toilet seat and (women's genitalia: I'll let you fill in the slang term).

This inspired me to find images that evoke the Edsel Twat:




Bedpan. You hardly have to use your imagination at all on this one.





Latvian opera singer's mouth.




Jim Nabors' mouth.




Wee-jee board thingama-jigger.




Amoeba.



Human heart.


Silly putty container.



Reptile egg.




Upside-down plastic bag of goldfish.



Two hands making that heart thingammy-symbol.




The Head of Our Lord Satan. I think I'm finished.


 

Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book
    It took me years to write, will you take a look


5 comments:

  1. Do you suppose the guy who designed that grill eventually went mad? Or did he start out that way? I wonder, when reality began to reach the corporate suites at Ford, what kind of looks the top execs gave each other and which ones knew it was time to update the old resume. And ultimately how many of them went mad.

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  2. The Ford Corporation forced one of the twat grills over the guy's head and he slowly starved to death.

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  3. Good thing my dad didn't know of "twat grill" or we would have heard it constantly. One of his favorite words. (not "grill")

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  4. Would make an interesting name for a restaurant, no? Can you imagine the waitresses?

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  5. They thought of it, but compromised on "Hooters."

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