JB's Warehouse & Curio Emporium

...sometimes you have to relax and let the cares of the world melt away. Gingerbread man from Sittler's Home Baking, Conestogo, Ontario. Glass bowl from Libbey Factory Outlet, Toledo, Ohio. Milk from Tremblett's Valu-Mart, Toronto, Ontario, made foamy by a frother from IKEA. - JB

This may be the grossest depiction of cake frosting we have ever encountered in a family-friendly setting. That sweet talker Betty Crocker is going to have to prepare the greatest sales pitch of her life to convince us that the greyish goop isn't a secret storehouse of toxic chemicals erupting like lava from the cake, the remnants of someone's failed attempt to digest this dessert, or a leftover sample from a toy company's quest to create a new line of novelty fake doggie doo. Considering that the ad boasts that the cake doesn't require icing, perhaps Betty purposely instructed the photographer or paste-up artist to present a slice with frosting in an unflattering light. Source: Woman's Day , March 1950. - JB

From circa 1978, an ad spotlighting the annual monarch butterfly migration through Point Pelee. Note slightly-creepy soundtrack that sounds vaguely like chirping wildlife. - JB

TORONTO : Residents of historic Cabbagetown had the rare opportunity to witness a performance by the Folies des Citrouilles on Sunday night. Presented at the corner of Sackville and Winchester, the show provided a enjoyable evening for afficianados of vegetable variety shows. The star attraction threw the troupe's two burlesque dancers in the spotlight, as they slinkily danced their way out of heavy-duty work clothes to the strains of "I've Got You Under My Skin." The evening also included the comedy stylings of Acorn & Squash, and a stirring rendition of " Follow the Drinking Gourd ."- Warehouse News Service

WARNING : Health authorities in your jurasdiction caution that prolonged exposure to "Oxydol sparkle" will cause extreme expansion of cranial and facial structures. Other side effects include paralysis of the facial muscles resulting in a permanent open smile and the mutation of the epidermis into tissue resembling a line drawing. Source: The Telegram , June 24, 1947. - JB

Can you name the movies that inspired these interpretations of classic monsters (at least two seem to be drawn from Abbott & Costello movies...)? Source: Eerie #11 , September 1967 - JB

So here we are, just a little over a month before Rob Ford officially assumes the duties of Mayor of Toronto. Based on the numbers from Monday night, there were slightly more people walking around Tuesday with long faces (or nursing hangovers) than those giddy at the prospect of derailing the gravy train (and nursing hangovers). The results capped a campaign where anger reigned supreme and both candidates and voters did their best to imitate the Incredible Hulk. *** I admit it. I drew a line to connect the two stumps of arrow next to Joe Pantalone's name. Not my ideal candidate, but as the sort-of-stand-in for the outgoing administration, I could live with myself if I voted for him. Neither Ford nor George Smitherman were enticing prospects. The only thing I discerned all along from the former provincial cabinet minister's campaign was that he was running for mayor just to become mayor. Give Ford credit: his policies were unpalatable, but there was no question about wh...

My habit of madly snapping election signs subsided this year, partly because few raised by eyebrows in terms of design or uniqueness (or the headscratchers flew under my radar). Out of the signs I took pictures, this one from Peterborough wins the pun category. Despite historic associations with this candidate's last name , it's safe to assume there won't be any rebellions if he is elected. Photo taken October 10, 2010 - JB

Based on an ad that appeared during the 1969 North York municipal election campaign . - JB

Not long after the G20 summit, a wall was set aside in Kensington Market for anyone to relate their thoughts and memories about the events of the last weekend in June. Whether you were in or near the chaos downtown or at home glued to a blackberry or radio, it would be hard not to have a story related to the craziness that ensued. Here's ours.

Before reading this post, check out the related article on Torontoist . From the November 19, 1969 edition of the Enterprise (a community paper in Willowdale) comes this map of the proposed "Lastman Loop" commuter rail system. The accompanying article was titled "Lastman a-go-go," either as a nod to the times or a reference to GO Transit.

While sorting through mounds of childhood stuff at home over Labour Day weekend, I came across a stray card from O-Pee-Chee's Raiders of the Lost Ark trading card set featuring one of my favourite scenes from the movie. The back of the accurately sums up the action on screen. I saw Raiders during its first run at the theatre (whatever name it was operating under that point) in Fort Malden Mall. Given that a year earlier I had run screaming out the Capitol in Windsor when Chevy Chase became Benji in Oh! Heavenly Dog , it's a testament to see how far I'd come in a year when I took in the melting Nazi scene with no problems (other than the dude with the medallion burned into his hand looked like Dad, a resemblance which his high school students reminded him about for the next year or two). From then on, Dad had few worries about taking me to a theatre to see anything that wasn't Muppets, Disney or child-centric. The Raiders card set was one of the first non...

Sunday morning. As in many homes across North America, we ease into the day by reading the New York Times. Our brains slowly crank into gear as all three of us flip through our favourite sections, whether it be op-ed, arts coverage, or the style section to determine if anyone in the wedding notices isn't a lawyer or financial analyst. Wait...did I say three of us? It's true: besides Sarah and I, Haruki also reads the morning's headlines. Of all the newspapers that float through our homestead, it's the New York Times that draws his attention. He jumps up on the bed and promptly plants himself on whatever section is lying flat...even if I'm in the middle of reading it (especially if I’m in the middle of reading it). We've figured out that if we toss him a section neither of us is drawn to immediately (business or sports), he'll snuggle up to that cozy newsprint and stretch out on those column inches. And yet there are times where I'm convinced he i...

When running for public office, candidates hope to have Lady Luck on their side. Under ideal circumstances, civic officials in waiting hope to get positive feedback from their potential constituents, score points during debates, and pray no dirt from their past resurfaces. Even if you accomplish all of that, fate may have other ideas. Take the case of Irving Goldberg, who ran for alderman in North York's Ward 6 back in 1969. Based on this account from the Don Mills Mirror , he was plagued by misfortune throughout his campaign. Goldberg's bad luck continued on election day, when he lost by just over 500 votes to optician John Knox. Source: The Don Mills Mirror , November 26, 1969 PS : Here's what Goldberg's pharmacy looked like when Google Maps snapped a shot of 2829 Bathurst . At the time, it was an shuttered children's store. - JB

If nothing else with spark you about Rosy Chicken Soup with crackers, the sodium will. We imagine this recipe was conceived under the following conditions: Fred was a Nabisco test kitchen employee who was famished by the time lunch rolled around on the fateful day. He looked in his locker for something to eat and saw two cans of soup. Without noticing that they were two completely different flavours, he mixed them together. Looking for added ingredients to weaken the salty result, Fred spied milk and cheese in the fridge. "Hmmm," he thought, "if I shredded some cheese and add some crackers on top, this could be a deconstructed grilled chicken and cheese sandwich with tomato soup!" Never mind there was no grilling involved, or that Fred used the term "deconstructed" years before revered chefs did. Fred mixed the ingredients, declared it passable, then wrote down the recipe for future reference in case his bosses were in a pinch for a recipe to print on ...

While cleaning out a box that had been buried in the depths of my bedroom closet, I found several clippings from the year I was arts editor at the Ontarion . The piece above, printed in the fall semester's edition of the Contrarion (joke issue), was a poke at one of my least favourite duties: editing album reviews. While there were many reviewers who did a good job of assessing the pros and cons of a given album, others made me believe they had no opinion at all. These reviews either pulled out the cliches listed above or, worse, simply listing the tracks without any indication of whether they liked the disc. I knew there were people just wanted the CD and had to go through the formality of writing something...but still. Even "song two had a nice tambourine solo" would have shown some thought.

The last Sunday of summer. Sunny skies, comfortable temperatures. Good conditions to spend an afternoon reaquainting myself with certain parts of downtown. I went on an amended version of the old "Sunday constitutional" route I used to walk most Sundays—instead of starting at Osgoode station and succumbing to the lure of a cheap Indian buffet, I took the Spadina car down to the top of Kensington Market. From there, it was a meandering trek down to Queen West, followed by a (brief) stop amid the crowd at the art show in Trinity-Bellwoods (the tight cluster of those browsing proved claustrophobic). From there, I strolled up Montrose to College, passing neighbours shooting the breeze on their porches and men pruning front yard foliage for elderly residents. And then there was a sight that provides a good opportunity to haul out a well-worn logo used on this website... Election signs will soon become chic decor items in apartment windows and on city lawns. The odd poster ...

From the vaults (of YouTube), the Warehouse brings you the directorial debut of television star Larry Hagman ( I Dream of Jeannie , Dallas ). The sequel to the 1958 drive-in classic, Beware! the Blob (or Son of Blob ) was among the nominees in "The Most Humiliating Performance by a Future TV Star" category in the book Son of the Golden Turkey Awards : Amazingly enough, it took fourteen years before someone in Hollywood stepped forward to take this obvious challenge and to unfreeze the man-eating strawberry Jell-O for a second attack on the human race . The resulting sequel - inevitably called Son of Blob - defined new lows in cinematic sloppiness and left audiences longing for the sincere stupidity of the Steve McQueen original. The new film tried to combine humorous and terrifying elements in the celebrated style of Attack of the Killer Tomatoes but in its confusion failed either to frighten or to entertain. As one wag put it at the time of the film's release: ...

Photos taken at the St. Lawrence Centre for the Performing Arts, August 13, 2010 - JB

The root cause of the Joker's insanity? Not a chemical bubble bath. Not an incredibly rotten day. Nope. He doesn't like Hostess Fruit Pies! After all, who in their right mind can resist the allure of tender crust and fruit filling full of chemical additives and globular bits that once resembled real fruit? The Clown Prince of Crime's mistake was forgetting that since there were no donut shops in this particular precinct, the cops fulfilled their daily sugar and lard dietary requirement by purchasing fruit pies at the Kwik-E-Mart two blocks from the station. Source: Justice League of America #142, May 1977 - JB