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Stupid stories about record clubs
#12
Ah, the good old days when, nestled in the back of the TV Guide next to the ad asking you to draw the parrot with the eye patch, was that glorious Columbia House Record Club ad. My sister and I would caucus on the living room floor over that ad when we got the new Guide on Friday. We each got half the selections. You'd tear apart the lables, add a little spittle, and presto: instant record library. Then after arguing over record vs 8-track for the format, one of us would run and get a penny to tape to the card. Yeah, you had to send them a penny to seal the deal. Those people at Columbia House were no fools. Then we'd take it to our our mom, who was triyng to keep us fed and housed on a waitress' pay, and beg to send in the card, to no avail.

PS: Once I drew that damn pirate bird and sent it in. Two weeks later we got a call from a rep at the art school saying I had a special talent and he'd like to talk to us about their school. My mom, having seen my artistic talent, laughed at him and hung up the phone. Good call on her part. To this day I still can't draw worth a damn.
“We're 2-7!  What the **** difference does it make?!” - Bruce Coslet
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RE: Stupid stories about record clubs - Awful Llama - 02-20-2016, 09:48 PM

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