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The Era -- Day By Day

Harp

I'll Lock Up
Messages
8,924
Location
Chicago, IL US
Dragon Gal hasn't an interest in Terry aside illicit enterprize, though Milt draws her so provocatively
pensive, profiled phallic cigarette held demurely southern paw.

Building a bankroll for the first Saturday in May at Churchill Downs is best done the old fashioned way
with hardscrabble basic handicapping undercard races thoroughly based past performance, speed,
and pace preference factored trainer/jockey win percentage. Today, at Gulfstream, a prominent rider
abandoned a registered mount to ride in the Arkansas Derby, always noticed. A winning jock gets ten-percent
of race purse added to his $35 mount fee. Most jockeys make or break a living in the irons, wedged tightly inside saddle stirrups only the best can kick away for purse cuts at their solicit pursuit by trainers and owners
desperate for the rider edge. I prefer to select a single Saturday track, having handicapped its full card,
and wagering selectively with an open mindset, meaning cognizant that horses are sentient equines with
intellect and personalities. And iron riders who make their livelihood with mount fee stipend aren't prone
to dash against fate without just cause. A bad start, a boxed rail, or a blocked field; atop stalker off pace or a closer facing distance, breeds complacent acceptance, which a professional gambler accounts.
An odd day or week can preclude seated chair necessary hours handicapping, leaving one or two big
race pulls for a relatively assured profit.
The Gulfstream Oaks has a $250k price tag and certitude with #6. She Be Smooth; #5. Prom Queen;
#2. My Miss Mo; and #4. Just Singing listed ninth race today's card. :cool:

A bit early for handle race pool analysis; although bettors are similarly squeezed field size fate stirrup
and previous performance. The smart money stirrups are dollar wedged gambler pros, often at last minute
gate placement to assess horse gait, disposition, and evident mood. :D:eek:o_O
 

Harp

I'll Lock Up
Messages
8,924
Location
Chicago, IL US
Nocturnal post paddock backstretch wander. The Oaks proved busted flush and the main drag
caught three scratches, a bit unusual for a graded stakes. Owners and trainer connection can cut
a horse up to ninety minutes before run time; although thrice diced isn't normal standard stakes.
And scratches affect handle quite significantly with pro and public bettors. I normally push forward
such times as I did today; laying bets down for presumed and perhaps, and caught a dime Commandment superfecta that returned a lordly $3.75, instead of a normal six or seven Franklins....
But that's the horse game folks. Earlier this season, I bet heavily on a proven performer in a marquee event,
but he crashed at gate exit start against three other horses, throwing his jockey onto dirt, and came in last riderless. Laughed my *** off and at myself mostly. Self deprecating humor is must have handicapper
****nal tool for such moments. I normally like to take a grand or two winning bankroll into Triple Crown
contention but I've also played the Kentucky Derby profitably with five bucks on intuitive luck. With the
way this year is going, chump change wagering may become a habit. o_O
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
35,404
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_29_1.jpg

("Cawps bot'erin' kids playin' bawl inna street," sneers Sally. "Somebody otta do sump'n'about t'at." "Maybe you otta do it," suggests Alice. "I mean, stead'a goin' afteh Edit' Bibbehman." "Don'choo worry 'bout Edit' Bibbehman," assures Sally. "I din' see'eh t'day, but I'm gonna get'eh awn Monday. Don'choo worry 'bout it. Nobody goes aroun' insultin' my frien's wit'out I do sump'n'about it." "It wasn' so bad," squirms Alice. "I mean, maybe Siddy shoulda shaved betteh befoeh we haddat pitcheh took. I mean..." "Ain'choo t'one was soeh?" frowns Sally. "Dinchoo get awl upset she cawlt'im a bum?" "Look, Sal," levels Alice. "We jus' come back awffa strike. We can' affoehd no moeh trouble, huh? Sometimes y'gotta jus' let it go." "Zackly what I'm gonna do," assures Sally. "You said you wasn' gonna t'row nut'n," reminds Alice. "An' I ain't," reaffirms Sally. "So don' worry." "Sal," exclaims Alice, her eyes widening. "You ain' gonna HIT'eh. Awr ya? Cause hitt'n people, a'ts neveh t' anseh! I mean, fois' ya hit somebody, even if t'ey d'soive it, y'hit'm, an'na nex' t'ing ya know, you ain' allowed to go in Roulston's!" "What?" "Um, jus' fr'a zample," gulps Alice. "In case y'was t'inkin'a -- um -- nut'n.")

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_29_2.jpg

("Wot's THIS?" sputters Uncle Frank, regarding his toast with incredulity. "Bacon grease," shrugs Ma. "Noo bootar. Noo oooleo." "Bacon grease," repeats Uncle Frank. "Aaahn toost." "If you do'wannit," injects Bink, "c'n I have it?" Uncle Frank shoots her a sour glance, and reluctantly takes a bite. "Hm," he hms. "Oi s'poose it'll do." He takes another bite, and chews with a bit more enthusiasm. "Well," he sighs. "At least we got bacon." "Noo bacon," declares Ma. "Then waaaar..." queries Uncle Frank. "Fat salvage," expains Ma, nodding her head toward the old coffee can sitting on the back of the stove. "You gonna finish t'at?" requests Bink. "Oi'm gooin'," sighs Uncle Frank, getting up from his chair, "t' Toomey's." "Bring me a donut," calls Bink, as he hmphs toward the door....)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_29_12.jpg

(Ecclesiastes 12:12)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_29_17.jpg

(The tide of history doesn't always wash clean.)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_29_23.jpg

("Retfil?" "Lifter?" He's either a bodybuilder or a pickpocket.)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_29_23 (1).jpg

(Fine, fine, everybody's happy. Is Leona running for governor yet?)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_29_23 (2).jpg

(The one time you get a cab...)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_29_23 (3).jpg

("Oh, and get your feet off the desk, put out that stinking pipe, and go do some work!")

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_29_23 (4).jpg

(Everybody who goes into show business is damaged. Ask me how I know.)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
35,404
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

Daily_News_1946_03_29_607.jpg

Somebody's been reading "Mary Worth."

Daily_News_1946_03_29_610.jpg

You don't say.

Daily_News_1946_03_29_663.jpg

"And I died inside long ago, child. Long, long ago..."

Daily_News_1946_03_29_664.jpg

A match made in -- well, someplace.

Daily_News_1946_03_29_667.jpg

Russian pajamas? The Rankin Committee will hear of this!

Daily_News_1946_03_29_669.jpg

"I told ya already, bud -- we're building a super market!"

Daily_News_1946_03_29_670.jpg

Awwwwwwwwww....

Daily_News_1946_03_29_671.jpg

We had to do this in acting class, and it was more exhausting than the rehearsal.

Daily_News_1946_03_29_678.jpg

Now that's style.

Daily_News_1946_03_29_682.jpg

They're not gonna let you join the Camp Fire Girls, so don't even try.
 
Messages
18,227
Location
New York City
"...Sometimes y'gotta jus' let it go."

Wise words for Sally to ponder.

********************************************************

The one time you get a cab...

Considering they knew the basic plan ahead of time, that did not go well at all.

********************************************************

Awwwwwwwwww....

Yeah, that was well done. No many how many times you see it, there's still something to it.
 

Harp

I'll Lock Up
Messages
8,924
Location
Chicago, IL US
The Lt Maloney softball-in-the-street arrest is ridiculous and should have been resolved with a phone
call to his watch commander's desk. Or, his precinct ward captain were this Chicago.
However, the Giarraffa insanity claim in the Davis murder is a false pitch attempt to skirt justice.
He was sufficiently sane to be involved in homicide, so his mens rea is sufficiently acute to be tried for murder.

Private First Class Brown USMC is busted back down to buck-*** privacy, yet the kid should be promoted
to shavetail second lieutenant for showing some brains. Shaked down a Japanese bank for $38k 1945 circa,
not bad. I once advised an ex-Marine pro bono on how he might overturn a gambling rap related dishonorable discharge for general separation upgrade. Marines, I've found, aren't dumb simpleton bottom scavengers.

Jack the lad Deval hauls in a cool 100k yearly in Hollywood scripting starlets and secretaries.
(The book to read is Budd Schulberg's excellent, The Disenchanted)
Jack can scribble his own Hollywood memoir and christen it The Enchanted. His wife should file in Reno
and screw his salary silly.

Dragon Gal looks lovely as ever. I thought she was Pat Ryan's squeeze. :confused:
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
35,404
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_30_1.jpg

("You gonna sit'eh awl day?" frowns Joe. "When'na time comes," declares Bink, thru a mouthful of banana split, "I'm gonna be ready. Amb'lance'll pull right up in front." "So ya gonna sit'eh," eyerolls Joe. "Awnat stool, witcha coat awn, an' ya grip onna counteh, eat'n ice cream, till it's time." "Mm-hmm," agrees Bink, rasping her spoon around the sides of the little tin dish to get the last dregs. "Y'gotta pay inna hawspit'l f' ice cream, y'know." "Y'sposta pay heeh," reminds Joe. "Sen'a bill t' Mickey," snorts Bink. "Anyways, it won' be much lawngeh. Docteh said I was due by t'enda t' mont'. T'marra'sa enda t' mont'." "It don' come when ya 'spect it," warns Joe. "R'membeh what hapn'ta Sal. We didn' ev'n get t'see t' foist innin'." "I ain' worried 'bout t'at," laughs Bink, tossing the dish over the counter, and clattering it into the sink. "Open'in day ain' till two weeks. Be awl oveh by t'en." She leans back on her stool and sighs. "I hope it don' come out wit' its heawrt onna wrawng side. Awr two heads. I read about a baby wit' two heads. Well, it was a baby cow, but still. I hope it don' come out wit' two heads." "Y'll be awright," reassures Joe, scraping his grill. "Yawr kid come out awright, dinshee?" queries Bink. "Besides bein' smawrt, I mean." "Nut'n wrawng wit' a kid bein' smawrt," contends Joe. "Keeps ya awn ya toes." "I dowanna kid's smawrteh'n me," frowns Bink. "It'll stawrt tellin' me what t'do." "T'ey do t'at anyway," laughs Joe, as Bink eyes the ice cream freezer...)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_30_3.jpg

("We was gonna get a new radio," sighs Sally. "An' a r'frigehrateh, too, till we hadda cash in'nem bonds f' Leonoreh's hawspit'l bill. I don' caeh, t'ough, not really." "Whassat FM awlabout?" queries Alice. "You otta know t'at," snorts Sally. "We haddat film at woik about it." "I awrways fawl asleep inna movies," confesses Alice. "I wish t'ey'd show a cawrtoon, I awrways wake up f't'em." "It's'is new kin'a radio," explains Sally. "No static, an' ev'rytin'g soun's real cleeh. When Jack Benny says sump'nat ain't funny, you c'n act'chlly heeh t' egg droppin' awna stage." "Oh," ohs Alice. "Ain' much pernt to it, t'en." "No, I don' min'at radio we got," confesses Sally. "Joe got it at Davega, back when I was carryin' Leonoreh. Kep' me comp'ny, lissenin' t' t' bawlgames." "Funny," chuckles Alice. "Willie was diggin' 'roun' inna couehtyawrd yestehday, an' he come in wit' s'moehra't'em broken radio tubes. He fine'sm inna doit, right undeh yawr kitchen windeh." "Magine'at," shrugs Sally, thru a deliberate sip of her tea...)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_30_4.jpg

("1924 wasn't thaaaaaat laaaang agoo!" --Uncle Frank)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_30_6.jpg

(Well, if ****** Pete can no longer fire, we'll soon find out. And poor Mr. Owen, hoping in Vera Cruz they never heard of 1941...)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_30_11.jpg

(This housing shortage is out of control...)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_30_11 (1).jpg

(Good riddance to Neysa, but can we keep Zetta around?)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_30_11 (2).jpg

("Nah, that dame had a cheesy fur coat.")

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_30_11 (3).jpg

(Remember when George ****le used to deal with weird apparitions? They were never this rude.)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_30_11 (4).jpg

("Fortunately, he was too lazy to chase us.")
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
35,404
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

Daily_News_1946_03_30_288.jpg

Point of order: as the can-can dance requires the use of a full skirt lined with multiple petticoats, it is impossible to dance the can-can in the n ude.

Daily_News_1946_03_30_297.jpg

Well then, Mr. Byrne, stop wasting everyone's time.

Daily_News_1946_03_30_295.jpg

There's a fine line between extreme dedication and complete psychosis.

Daily_News_1946_03_30_300.jpg

You may remember five years ago, when this gentleman kidnapped Raven and held her hostage, and Pat had to disguise himself as a prissy personal assistant in order to rescue her. "Goodness gracious me," or something like that.

Daily_News_1946_03_30_301.jpg

You know, they're just trying to get rid of you.

Daily_News_1946_03_30_302.jpg

"Maybe it's for the best?" Job's comforters have nothing on Andy Gump.

Daily_News_1946_03_30_305.jpg

"Da?" Isn't that Russian? Better turn him in to the Rankin Committee!

Daily_News_1946_03_30_307.jpg

Peace is Hell.

Daily_News_1946_03_30_308.jpg

Good dental care is an investment in your future.

Daily_News_1946_03_30_309.jpg

Someone needs to talk to this whole family.
 
Messages
18,227
Location
New York City
"Y'gotta pay inna hawspit'l f' ice cream, y'know." "Y'sposta pay heeh," reminds Joe. "Sen'a bill t' Mickey," snorts Bink.

Love the punch-counter-punch rhythm.

********************************************************

"Funny," chuckles Alice. "Willie was diggin' 'roun' inna couehtyawrd yestehday, an' he come in wit' s'moehra't'em broken radio tubes. He fine'sm inna doit, right undeh yawr kitchen windeh."

:)

********************************************************

And poor Mr. Owen, hoping in Vera Cruz they never heard of 1941...

Just freakin' brutal.

********************************************************

"Nah, that dame had a cheesy fur coat."

"Really, cheesy? Let me see 'your' fur coat." - JA

********************************************************

Point of order: as the can-can dance requires the use of a full skirt lined with multiple petticoats, it is impossible to dance the can-can in the n ude.

This judge so wants to sentence them to jail time. I know I'm guilty of not thinking about this the same way if the s*xes were reversed as, in that case, I'd want the men locked up for a long time. There'd be no slight amusement to it.

********************************************************

Well then, Mr. Byrne, stop wasting everyone's time.

The man's an exterminator; he just wanted a break from his day — can you blame him?
 

Harp

I'll Lock Up
Messages
8,924
Location
Chicago, IL US
The Mayfair Sewing Circle episode resultant guilty verdicts for Mrs Lowell and Rightmier, delivered
by an eleven woman panel with a mustang; evidence deliberate prosecutorial voir dire inclination.
And ''contributing to the delinquency of a minor,'' is semantic dodge for statutory ****. Had accused
been males and their victims female, an altogether different outcome would have occurred.
When women predators strike, its all nod and wink chuckle hustle.... Only six months. Easy time.
For Justice to exist, there must too live a measure of Injustice.

That Marine, PFC Brown, who conned $32k 1945 circa from a Japanese bank, had a geisha in tow
before busting flush in Yokahama. I thought that he probably had a girl side piece. And his parents
think he's such a nice boy. Ya just can't make this stuff up. ;)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
35,404
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_31_Page_1.jpg
("What time's it?" jitters Bink, stirring the hot fudge into her sundae to produce a tan-colored soup. "Two minutes aftarr th' last toime ye looked," snaps Ma. "Tharr's a clock roit oop ahhn th' waal tharr." "Eleven houehs t'go," Bink sighs, "till t'enda t' mont'. Gonna be any time now." "Oi tooljee befarr," groans Ma. "It doon't warrrk that way!" "Y'don't hafta holleh," interrupts Leonora, looking up from a copy of Modern Detective. "I ain't deaf." "Oi waasn't talkin' t'yee, daaarlin'," dismisses Ma. "An' gimme that trashy book. Hmph. 'Th' Amazin' Frenchy Larue.' Sooch roobish!" "I'll take t'at," injects Bink. "I ain' read'at one yet. Be sump'n t' pass t'time while I'm wait'n f't' baby t'come out." "Baarbara," exhales Ma. "Ye really doon't have th' sloitest oiearr 'boot any'a this, do yee? How OOOLD are ye?" "Twenny-t'ree," snaps Bink. "Not old'anuff t' know betteh," mutters Leonora. "See what I mean," frowns Bink, "bout a smawrt kid. I hope my kid ain' like t'at." "Oi doon't think," grumbles Ma, "ye got anything t'worry 'bout...")

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_31_Page_3.jpg

("Y't'ink he'll like it?" queries Alice. "Y'really t'ink?" "A thoughtful gift," declares Mrs. Ginsburg, "so what is not to like?" "The color," observes Mr. Ginsburg. "A bit loud, I am thinking. A bit loud for blue soige." "Y'really t'ink?" continues Alice. "I wasn' sueh, but, you know how Siddy is 'bout -- well, I jus' t'ought t'is would -- oh, I dunno what I t'ink." "Mendel," frowns Mrs. Ginsburg. "Don't you think Mr. Krause will be pleased? DON'T you?" "Absolutely," concedes Mr. Ginsburg, loading his pipe as Alice smiles a hopeful, grateful smile...)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_31_Page_25.jpg

("BILLY GOT OLD FIVE YEEHS AGO!" bellows Sally. "BRING BACK PETEY!" "Let's start over again," sighs Dr. Levine...)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_31_Page_39.jpg

(I still want to know why there's a glacier in the middle of the Old West.)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_31_Page_40.jpg

(The Rabbit From Marketing.)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_31_Page_43.jpg

(That kid in the last panel, third row, wasn't me at all.)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_31_Page_44.jpg

(Dress for the job you want.)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_31_Page_46.jpg

(Well, it's better than chasing a robot in a sport coat.)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_31_Page_48.jpg

(All right, fine. Now what did you do with the cucumber?)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_03_31_Page_49.jpg

(Beats working for a living...)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
35,404
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

Daily_News_1946_03_31_4.jpg

"This doon't taste soo bad," declares Uncle Frank, taking a tiny sip of the product as Danny feeds the bottles into the capper. "What are ye doin' diff'rnt?" "Ain't nut'n I'm doin'," shrugs Danny. "It's what Jimmy AIN'T doin'!"

Daily_News_1946_03_31_82.jpg

Hey, I resent this! I used to do a monologue act, and never once billed myself as a dis-soose!

Daily_News_1946_03_31_169.jpg

Love's Young Dream...

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Amnesia's a terrible thing.

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"Long's ya don't offend the rain god, ya gonna do just fine."

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This never happens at Bohack's.

Daily_News_1946_03_31_173 (1).jpg

"Goo Face."

Daily_News_1946_03_31_173.jpg

JOAN CRAWFORD!

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Of all the vast cast of characters he could bring back, he has to bring back THIS ONE.

Daily_News_1946_03_31_180.jpg

"Vengeance is MINE, I shall repay, saith the Lord..."
 
Messages
18,227
Location
New York City
"Oi doon't think," grumbles Ma, "ye got anything t'worry 'bout..."

:)

*********************************************************

"Long's ya don't offend the rain god, ya gonna do just fine."

Enough already with the farmer woe. Most jobs are hard or they wouldn't be jobs; we'd call them play.

*********************************************************

Of all the vast cast of characters he could bring back, he has to bring back THIS ONE.

Seriously, I so want to know what Burma has been up to. You also have Captain Blaze, his horrible daughter.... And the mother of all returns would be Hu Shee.

Hu Shee in c.jpg
 

Harp

I'll Lock Up
Messages
8,924
Location
Chicago, IL US
Mrs O'Leary has valid passion defense against marital spousal homicide.

I cannot understand why Mrs Dorothy Worm hasn't been charged with Murder One under Felony Murder
doctrinal precept; all the more so since she and her lover, Schmitt, initially buried her deceased husband's
corpse together. I suspect another instance of dual gender standard justice similar to the needle threaded
through the Mayfair Sewing Circle child *****ts delinquency nonsense trial.

Mrs Leana Franks, all of fourteen years age, is an emancipated minor through maternal consent marriage;
and, upon divorce is legally free to wed her new suitor.

Veterans facing postwar economic factored unemployment and housing issues have my utmost sympathy.
And the 52-$20 club kickin must've been a real lifesaver for those guys. I lived at home the discharged spring/ summer enroute GI Bill college, and my mom thought the Army had trained me to walk into a bank job. And I was such a nice clean cut boy. I was stopped by a police patrol car walking towards a department store the day after arriving home, intending to get started on a civilian wardrobe. Why wasn't I in school?
''Really? Next you'll say you were with the Green Berets, I suppose?'' ;)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
35,404
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_04_01_1.jpg

("Hey," heys Solly Pincus, jingling thru the door at Lieb's Luncheonette. "Whe'z Frank? I need t' tawk t' him about -- oh." "What?" whats Bink Scanlan, slumped over the counter. "Fatty ain'eeh. Joe's up awna roof, gett'n some meat. T' ol' lady's inna back room. Leemee lone." "What's wit' t' grip?" gestures Solly, nodding toward the packed bag next to the gum display. "You movin' out?" "Whatta you caeh," scowls Bink. "If ya mus' know, I'm wait'n f' t' baby. It was s'posta be heeh yestehday, an' it was'n." "Eh," ehs Solly. "Heeh, gimme a packa Camels, willya? Babies is late awla time. Me? I come two weeks late. Weight awrmos' twelve poun's." "How much of it was eehs?" sneers Bink, tossing the cigarettes across the counter. "Ya gonna be awright," declares Solly, dropping two dimes on the counter. "Like you caeh," repeats Bink. "Jus'a same," assures Solly, opening the pack and lighting a smoke. "Ya gonna be awright." "Yeh," yehs Bink, sliding his change across the counter. "I'm gonna be jus' swell.")

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_04_01_3.jpg

("Y' like?" hopes Alice, as Krause opens his birthday gift. "Yeh," he grins, holding up the contents of the little box. "Wasn' easy t' fin'," explains Alice. "I hadda look awl oveh downtown." "Yeh," nods Krause, his eyes glittering. "I neveh seen nut'n like t'at," marvels Willie. "I t'ink right'eh is t' on'y paieh'ra awrange socks in awla Brooklyn," declares Alice. "T'ey'll go swell witcha Woil's Faeih tie, Pap," adds Willie. "Yeh," agrees Krause, dropping his brogans on the floor to try them on....)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_04_01_6.jpg

("Free inside every box!")

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_04_01_11.jpg

(The arm he injured playing Army ball. AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN INSURE HIM!)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_04_01_17.jpg

(Mr. Lifter was Ella's original love interest. And interesting I bet he was.)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_04_01_17 (1).jpg

(So what happened to that drip artist Flame married? Or did he just slip out the door one night, never to return...)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_04_01_17 (2).jpg
(Nice coat, Janie. Cashmere?)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_04_01_17 (3).jpg

(Joke's on you, boys. She's allergic.)

Brooklyn_Eagle_1946_04_01_17 (4).jpg

(Get up and leave? AT THE BEST PART???)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
35,404
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

Daily_News_1946_04_01_402.jpg

Monkey bites? Chemical explosions? Mantels falling on his head? Imagine if he had a run of bad luck!

Daily_News_1946_04_01_415.jpg

"What'dja say t'is stuff was ya using t' make t' mash?" queries Danny. "Dried pt'atehs," chuckles Uncle Frank. "Saaaargeant Pincus will nivvar miss a sack arr two...."

Daily_News_1946_04_01_425.jpg

"Violating nature's sacred order? Molech won't like that! Molech won't like that AT ALL!"

Daily_News_1946_04_01_429.jpg

Somebody's got to clean up the mess.

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Destiny calls.

Daily_News_1946_04_01_431.jpg
Parties are for the parents, not the kid.

Daily_News_1946_04_01_433.jpg

Hey, remember Whispering Jack Smith?

Daily_News_1946_04_01_435.jpg

Mr. Hoover won't stand for any malingering.

Daily_News_1946_04_01_437.jpg

"Soft power."

Daily_News_1946_04_01_439.jpg

Most realistic married couple in the comics.
 

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