The Smiths | The Embiggens Project

Much of my early college days were a blur. I was 17, and 300 miles away from home in the big city of Toronto, surrounded by other equally young and stupid people. And my college did it’s part to encourage the corruption of its youth. Not only did it host regular pub event on campus, but it often shipped busloads full of novice alcoholics to Buffalo and Niagara Falls, New York. The bars were bigger. The drinking age would remain a mere 19 until December of that year. And the pubs had sober-sounding monikers like The Library. Yes, we could honestly tell our concerned parents that we were spending our Friday nights at the library. How convenient. Club Exit in Niagara Falls was a little harder to explain. I don’t remember much about either of these places, but I know they served booze.

Um. They had menus? And tables? I thought the whole place was just a big, black void. At least, that’s how I remember it.

And, yes. The legal drinking age WAS 19. And I WAS 17. But we won’t discuss how I got around that one. Because, of course, it was all perfectly legal.

This is all that remains of Club Exit. A logo. And a drinking glass that I have never parted with.

In between my vodka & Tang induced blackouts, I do recall one rather bizarre detail. People dancing on the floor. Literally ON THE FLOOR. Lying on it. Writhing to the music.

Has anyone checked to see if they are okay? Maybe they are having synchronized seizures.

The song was either “How Soon is Now” by the Smiths or “Every Day is Halloween” by Ministry. I loved both, so I grabbed the nearest cute guy (vodka and Tang makes a person brave) and dragged him up on the dance floor. I’m showcasing my best 80s moves and I notice that my tall-haired partner is missing. I scan the dance floor. WTF? Did he vanish in to thin air? Hell no, that would have been the preferred option. Rather, he is prone on the floor–apparently having the time of his life. I don’t even think he noticed when I walked off. I should have stepped on him.

Ah. I loved the 80s.

Rather than embark on the uncovering of three new weird and goofy facts, I thought that today I’d simply re-visit some of the weirdest stuff from the ’80s, the best decade yet.

Slouch socks. How did we fight the urge to keep pulling these damn droopy things up?

Parachute pants were basically tents with legs and flattered NO ONE…including the chick donning them here.

The women of TV's "Dallas" sported linebacker shoulder-padding that made their heads look rather pin-like.

Shoulder pads: the women of TV’s “Dallas” sported linebacker shoulder-padding that made their heads look like push pins.

The Adidas bag. No high school nerd was complete without it.

Absolutely everything came in dusty rose–clothes, walls, furniture. Ugh. Didn’t the K-Car even come in a shade of this 1980s colour?

The Chevette. Yes, it was butt ugly, but everyone had one or knew someone who had one.

Atari-This exciting piece of technology caused ooo’s and aaah’s everywhere it went. Now it just makes us laugh.

Stirrup stretch pants were all the rage. I know they that when I see them, they make me rage.

Stirrup stretch pants were all the rage. I was short so the foot part always hung loosely and bunched up in my shoes.

Who could forget The Man With Two Brains? Believe me, I’ve tried. Oh pointy bird, oh pointy pointy. Anoint my head. Anointy-nointy.

Knots Landing‘s Lisa Hartman had great (big) hair. I wore mine exactly like it in grade 12 and thought it was the coolest thing ever.

High school me and my rubber glove chicken. Yup, I was a dork.

Photo Credits: The Library (urbanspoon.com), Club Exit (trademarkia.com), slouch socks (elliesox.com), parachute pants (digital changeling.com), Adidas & Dusty rose (etsy.com), chevette (charest.net), atari (thenestway.com), stirrups (sodahead.com), Man with 2 Brains (www.guardian.co.uk), Knots Landing (bonkbusterdiaries.com).

“You take the money and I’ll grab the eyeballs. Oddly enough, that’s not the first time I’ve said that.” Barry Weiss, Storage Wars.

I want a nose for my car. Every now and then, I see a car driving down the road sporting a shiny, red proboscis and I think to myself, “Self, we’ve got to get our paws on one of those.” And, no, I am not making this up. There are people in my town with car noses. There’s even one automobile that sports eyelashes. Maybe it’s just my town. Must be the drinking water.

My car is not totally without facial features. It has teeth. Yes, I just said “teeth.” Not the ghastly, “I-want-to-suck-your-Carotid-artery” kind. Just happy, smiling, Osmond-white chompers. You are likely wondering where I found such an awesome ornament. (What? You are not wondering where, but “why?” I don’t understand.) They are the non-edible part of a candy/toy combo that I spied at Walmart. It’s amazing what you can find when you possess the intellect of a small child. My apologies to small children everywhere.

Yes. My car longs for one of these (or so I like to imagine).

During my search for the perfect breathing apparatus for my car, I discovered “Red Nose Day,” a Comic Relief-inspired, British charity event that encourages people and automobiles, alike, to sport a shiny, red nose. Sure, we idiots across the pond will adopt blood pudding, Haggis, and other UK-spawned spare animal part dishes. Heck, we even opened our airwaves to…ugh…Benny Hill. Why on earth have we not embraced the opportunity to wear giant red nostrils? It’s even for charity.

What the hell is that grabbing my leg?

1) Spotted dick aside, the Brits have given us a number of things that I am thankful for–Blackadder, Hyacinth Bucket, The Smiths, Death at a Funeral, and fish & chips, to name a few. But here is one tradition that I’m not sure I’d greet with such fervour. Yes, from the people that brought us the treacherous sport of Cheese Rolling, I now present–Bog snorkelling.

Once a year, strangely dressed, muck-and-mire enthusiasts descend upon Powys, Wales for their chance to win roughly $200 US and a mention in the Guinness World Records. All breathing must be done through your snorkel and you can only move using flipper power. And, apparently, the water is nut-shrivelingly cold–not that I own a pair. I’ve just been told.

Seriously, I love to swim as much as the next person. But swimming in a bog carved out of peat moss? There’s isn’t enough chlorine in the world that would make that seem alright. Ack.

I bet a removable nose would come in handy, especially during flu season. Or would the snot just run freely down your face? Hm.

2) Some noses are cute. Bert and Ernie’s bulbous orbs of felt. Long aardvark snouts. The whiskered hamster variety. And perfectly round, red ones on cars. (I know. Give it a rest already). It turns out that they are more than just cute and useful in oxygen intake. They have many uses. Noses hold eyeglasses in place. They give you something to pick when you’re bored. They make it possible to “thumb your nose” at annoying neighbours. And, apparently, they can blow up balloons. Honest. Here’s the proof…

Just what you want to explode at your child’s birthday party–a mucous-filled, booger-encrusted balloon. Ack.

But, wait! It gets worse. A nose can also be used to blow a marshmallow across the room into a moron’s open mouth. Yes, two gifted individuals from Illinois achieved the world record for pitching and receiving this nose candy over a distance of 16 feet. I hate marshmallows at the best of time, but this would truly be a marshmallow nightmare. Let’s hope they used the green ones.

3) Noses, eyelashes, and teeth aside, I love cars. Especially ones that sound mean. Rather than spending a lot of money getting a tricked out exhaust, I’ll think I’ll just drive around with this guy making throaty car noises over a loud speaker. Check it out…

watch?v=RSDUcKw-GOk

And no automotive blog would be complete without this baby…