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Yugoslavia doesn't exist anymore of course. And I should know: my other half was born there, for some weird reason.
We went to what is now Croatia earlier this month to visit her family, who, as you might expect, are a bunch of toothless, chattering, Cro-Magnons who live in an upturned water butt and worship a plough. At night they try to grab the stars out of the sky, thinking they are the fruit of a magical tree, and their diet consists mostly of seawater mixed with wine, olive oil and squid ink.
Not really: they're just normal of course, even though the nearest McDonald's was 200 miles away, and Croatia and its people are far nicer than anything the UK has to offer.
Also, the country has the widest array of Tuc biscuits seen anywhere in the world; roast chicken flavour, bbq flavour, sweet chilli flavour - heck, they even had Milka bars with Tuc biscuits embedded in them. And to think: you had Croatians pegged as a backwards, regressive species. You utter racists.
Still, it's probably just as well Yugoslavia is gone, really, if the casual sexism on the covers of the country's pre-war computer magazines are anything to go by. Here are eleven of them.
We went to what is now Croatia earlier this month to visit her family, who, as you might expect, are a bunch of toothless, chattering, Cro-Magnons who live in an upturned water butt and worship a plough. At night they try to grab the stars out of the sky, thinking they are the fruit of a magical tree, and their diet consists mostly of seawater mixed with wine, olive oil and squid ink.
Not really: they're just normal of course, even though the nearest McDonald's was 200 miles away, and Croatia and its people are far nicer than anything the UK has to offer.
Also, the country has the widest array of Tuc biscuits seen anywhere in the world; roast chicken flavour, bbq flavour, sweet chilli flavour - heck, they even had Milka bars with Tuc biscuits embedded in them. And to think: you had Croatians pegged as a backwards, regressive species. You utter racists.
Still, it's probably just as well Yugoslavia is gone, really, if the casual sexism on the covers of the country's pre-war computer magazines are anything to go by. Here are eleven of them.
WHY SO SERIOUS?
Those are some long legs, but more in a creepy way than a sexy way; you know like a human torso grafted onto a couple of your nanny's draft excluders.
I think she's meant to be looking seductive, but if anybody entered their office and found this tableaux before them their natural instinct would be to run away or jump out of a window. It's the combination of wild hair and that glare which does it, I think. And maybe the way she's subtly stroking the back of a draft excluder with her index finger. There's some sort of implied threat in it.
"I'll exclude YOUR draft!"
"I'm sorry?"
I think she's meant to be looking seductive, but if anybody entered their office and found this tableaux before them their natural instinct would be to run away or jump out of a window. It's the combination of wild hair and that glare which does it, I think. And maybe the way she's subtly stroking the back of a draft excluder with her index finger. There's some sort of implied threat in it.
"I'll exclude YOUR draft!"
"I'm sorry?"
TAKING THE DOGS FOR A WALK
This posh lady is taking her computers for a walk. You know: as if they're dogs. That's how rich she is; all her money has made her mentally ill. Still, for a million quid a little touch of the old Paradise Syndrome is a risk I'd certainly be prepared to take.
But look: she only has two leads, so that big black tower unit could run away at any second and start rubbing rudies with an ATM. Also, I hope she's going to clear up after her computers.
What sort of waste do computers produce? Megapooopoooo110110101010101010101poooo!
But look: she only has two leads, so that big black tower unit could run away at any second and start rubbing rudies with an ATM. Also, I hope she's going to clear up after her computers.
What sort of waste do computers produce? Megapooopoooo110110101010101010101poooo!
WHAT'S THAT THING HANGING FROM HER HEAD?
My guess is it's an umbilical cord, and she's fresh out of the clone vats. Also: what's with the chin strap? Probably to keep her mouth closed, so she doesn't keep gaping at all the wonders of the living world.
A NEW ARRIVAL
She's saying to the little computer: "My child, for you I have given birth to a new sibling: in fact, I'm giving birth to it RIGHT NOW... nnng-nnnnnnnngggg-nggg!"
THE WORLD'S LIGHTEST COMPUTER
That's quite the party trick you've got going on there. You have to wonder how long they made her stand like that. With or without a computer pretend-balanced in your palm, that can't have been comfortable. God knows I find it difficult enough to stand upright on two legs these days. But, well, you probably don't need to know about that.
BALANCE IT IN YOUR LAP
She's got her hand up there as if the designer was meant to place a computer into it, but they clearly had some sort of breakdown and placed the ZX Spectrum awkwardly on her abdomen instead. Also: high heels? On a motorbike?!? In a corn field!?!? Backwards?!?!
THAT'S A BIG ONE
Or is she just really small? And how painful must it be to be perched atop those struts like that? No wonder she's going "Oooooooo-ooooffff-ffff".
Yes: one of them has gone right up her bumhole!
Yes: one of them has gone right up her bumhole!
THE TINIEST DOC
Talking of small... here's the former Yugoslavia's tiniest doctor - Doctor Tomko Thumbovic. He's about to listen to the fartbeat of Yugoslavia's famous 50ft woman, Gigantavic. I don't rate the doc's chances if she does a blow-off!!!!!!
UH...
Well, this is all kinds of sinister, but you have to admire the art direction at least; the red skirting board, chair, blindfold and wrist ties really help to bring the whole thing together. This is a kidnapper who at least has some concept of colour coordination, and for that he must be applauded.
BEND YOUR LEG BACK... MORE... MORE!
You might think that Yugoslavia's answer to Bonnie Tyler is double-jointed, but the way she's gripping her ankle suggests otherwise. Also, that left hand is pushing down on her lap as a way to displace the evident pain she's suffering as a result of the damage this unnatural pose is doing to her joints.
THE GHOST (MAN) IN THE MACHINE.
Look: the nude dead dude has slithered out of the computer so that he can play with the giant abacus - and has died - while some sort of sci-fi dominatrix/Ascot Ladies' Day visitor pouts impassively behind him. Can anybody think of a better way to convey the unstoppable power of technological progress?
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