Welcome Home 1966

If there’s one thing that wets my gash, it’s old magazines.

Especially old LOCAL magazines.

I picked up two of these Los Angeles Times HOME magazines at an estate sale last week in my neighborhood. I was really excited because they’re a little hard to find and don’t come cheap on eBay. Most people didn’t keep them because they were part of the newspaper, and if they did survive, it was because the lady of the house kept it for a recipe.

Most of the content was indeed home related. Ads for furniture, carpet, and pools were most of it, but there are ads for food and fashion. Because the magazine is so big, I was unable to scan so I used my phone to take pics, so please excuse the quality.

This issue of HOME is from June 1966. I love all of the ads and the overall Southern California style.


Sorry Iron Eyes – your mom is Sicilian.


We had an Anthony Pool back when I was a kid.


I love their “Obsession” song.


I would love to get that Buffet/Patio cooker. One recurring theme in the magazine is cooking outside. Remember, this IS Southern California, so outside cooking and dining is a SERIOUS subject with us.



This would go GREAT with my heroin!


Fucking hipsters.



Because if there’s one food that will last in the hot California sun, it’s a Jello salad.

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I actually think this is a neat idea. I would love to do more fondue at my house, but most of my friends are slobs, so it would quickly turn into fon-don’t.


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I plan on doing a blog post regarding Guasti soon.


Haggar and Hard-Ons!

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That recipes sounds pretty good to me.

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I would make a loaf joke, but the “turkey neck looks like a dick and balls jokes go first” rule is in effect.

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Gee, thanks Tongs for fucking up my order form.

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This pool ad reminds me of that scene in “Truck Turner”.


Yes, a creepy head IS a unique concept for a bathroom.

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Ain’t nobody got time for tennis.

Also, remember that episode of Dragnet when Joe Friday was grilling steaks on a Hibatchi in his fireplace?

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I’ve recently taken up drinking Mules, but now that I know that Woody Allen drinks them, I’m going to start drinking a less perverted drink, like Blowjob Shots.

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“Mowing some fence” is my new term for shaving my pubes.

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I NEED that patio salad bowl so I can whip up a Caesar Salad poolside.

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I love the poorman’s Mariette Hartley!

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That penguin is too cool, with his bow tie and cut-offs, dishing out Farmer John hot dogs.

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I did it all for the breakfast nookie.

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Seems safe.

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Creepy candles.

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