#prell shampoo

[thegikitiki]

Exciting New Shampoo Miracle!

Prell Radiant Shampoo, 1952

Bottom Image is circa 1958 Packaging Update

[stone-cold-groove]

At Last! A liquid shampoo that’s extra rich! Prell shampoo ad - 1956.

[stastrodome]

King Lear and his daughters (the part of Cordelia being played by a bottle of Prell shampoo).

[contac]

[mikasuxxx]

I love butcher i truly do but i just know that (and yall can feel free to debunk or correct me on this) this man has a bar of irish spring in his shower thats hanging on by a thread, quiet literally. microscopically thin and may or may not have some hair on it

[wordfromoursponsor]

"Hair is so sparkling-clean after Prell--so shiningly radiant" (1940s)

[misforgotten2]

When the doctor said he needed to see for himself if you were shampooing correctly he was hoping you would do it in the shower and not fully dressed.

As is typical of Madison Avenue and Hollywood they squeezed all the could out of Tallulah the Tube and then tossed her aside.

Woman's Home Companion   October  1949

[ms-demeanor]

My aunt Darla died 20 years ago. Her heart rejected (weird that two people i love so much have had transplants), and months before she died she had to move and packed up a bunch of stuff.

A few months ago, my dad started emptying his shed. One of the things he pulled out of the shed was a box of things from Darla's house. I finally sat down and sorted through it and it was full of wonderful photos (pride 2000! Family trips! Lesbians fishing!) And a bunch of weird nonsense (a soap dish and toothbrush holder carefully wrapped in shirts and towels, a shrink-wrapped copy of a book about the day princess Diana died). There were some very 90s pillowcases and I've put one on a pillow and it has been twenty years and it smells like men's deodorant, prell shampoo, leather, and cigarettes, and it smells exactly like a house i still drive by sometimes and wonder who's living there now.

There was a totally sealed, brand new CD copy of Dookie still with stickers from tower records in the bin and I guess I'm going to be listening to Green Day for a while.

[whitefeathers]

mdni.

cw: SOMNO, NON CON, daddy kink, size kink, mean!billy butcher, doggy/face down ass up. Billy basically takes u while you’re sleeping and you wake up to it … reader is into it but also butcher knows he’s being awful so …

Waking up in the middle of the night to a man in your bed, your ass arched up into the air - kept there by his strong hands pinning you down, his cock fucking you into place. He’s big and all you can feel is fullness and ache, being taken from behind in the middle of the night in your poor tiny cunt without proper preparation.

You can smell him. He smells like Prell shampoo, sweat, and cigarettes. His hands are the same thick hands you shyly watch around those said cigarettes. He’s aggressive and stern and his thrusts are as harsh as his grunts. You know exactly who is doing this to you.

“B-Billy?”

“Oh, we awake now, sleepin’ beauty?” Butcher grabs your hair in a fist, close to your scalp, and smushes your face into the pillow, shaking your head into it to keep you down and submissive. You whine, arching deeper.

“This hurt? This too rough for ya? Good.” His voice is gruff and comes out in pants, his hips working with an aggressive, self-serving rhythm. You’re still sleepy and out of it, as confused as you are fucked out, but he doesn’t care about your comfort or pleasure, ignoring your confused whimpers. This is for him.

Luckily enough, his dick is fat, and he’s smashing your poor g-spot to pieces in this angle. He doesn’t need to worry about your pleasure for his thrusts to fill you up and pound you just how you like.

Your pussy drools around him, making the slide wetter, stickier, messier. It’s fucking disgusting, filling the air with the smell of sex.

“Why? Wha- nngh, fuck, fuck- wha’s happenin’?”

“Rapin’ ya, sweetheart. Too fuckin’ good to resist,” he slows down for a second, watching the slow drag of his dick in and out of you, watching how your little hole stretches and drips around him forcing himself on you.

“I’m sorry baby, I know. Just shut up ‘n take it. Ya gonna let daddy have his fun, m’kay? Gonna be daddy’s dumb little cunt?”

You know you should shake your head no - he’s violating you, you can’t give in, even if deep down you rub your clit thinking about that exact word - daddy - coming from Butcher’s mouth.

You squirm but he just laughs at you and pins you down with a hand on your back, shoving you into the mattress deeper.

“Gonna play like that? Let’s fuckin’ play like that then, bitch,”

And he lets you fucking have it.

[dallasgallant]

What the gang smells like

*But realistic! Thought of this when I was falling asleep last night and I think it’s actually an interesting bit of character study (thats what everything comes back to for me apparently.)

Imagine all of these but there’d also be deodorant and Cheap cologne/scent on top of it .

Pony: Puberty and pencil shavings

He is freshly 14, he is a growing boy, enough said. He REEKS half of the time but is the most hygienic out of all the gang (even above Johnny and Darry) but he just can’t help it. I said pencil shavings as he draws a bunch—would say school work too but that was typically in pen or typed (on a typewriter).

Soda: Gas and Prell

He works the pump I can’t imagine he wouldn’t, sometimes my hands will smell after pumping my own I can’t imagine after all day. I said Prell too as it’s such a strong and distinctive smelling shampoo (it’s great to really deep clean hair if you put a lot of product in and still made today, I recommend it.)

Darry: Tar, sweat and leather

On good days, after showers, I imagine he smells like leather over anything else. It’s hard to describe past a good, rich, masculine smell that’s a bit sweet? Like Soda, he smells like work.

Steve: Gas, hair gel and soap

I say soap as I have a hc that his mother works as a wash woman, doing clothes for the neighborhood and some better paying clients. So his clothes are always clean even if he isn’t.

Cannot speak for it, but I also see Steve as someone who does Dip and chewing tobacco’s more than he’d smoke regular- don’t know of that smell but add that.

Two-bit : Beer and iron

Sort of the most self explanatory of the bunch. He smells like beer, usually his breath and iron from holding his switch all the time (usually trying to show it off) or snagging things. Sometimes that smell might be blood from a rumble, usually it’s not.

Dally: Horse and Menthol

Heard dally described once of smelling like horse and cigarettes and I thought it was really funny and really likely that he smells. He smells like work, sweat and Kools. A bit different from the regular cling of Smoke as his preference has a bit of a minty edge (it’s noted to smell slightly better/easier than plain tobacco)

Johnny: cigarettes, grease and Outside

Undoubtedly Johnny puts the most product in his hair of all of the gang (even Steve, whose book hairstyle (prob a jelly roll) would require a lot of maintenance.) it’s almost to the comical extent that you can smell it wafting off the poor kid.

I put “outside” too, stick with my I have sensitive… senses? You know when someone comes in from being outside for a long time and they smell like Sweat, sure, but also just— air? In a sense like they just smell like outside.

[burntsaltsblog]

watching the new episode of the boys while wearing my oversized hawaiian shirt (im pretending i stole it from butcher because im delulu) and im sniffing my prell shampoo (im also pretending i stole it from butcher) like potpourri 

[taxi-davis]

Liquid Prell Shampoo 1960s-1970s "Isle of Green"

[stone-cold-groove]

Save 5¢ when you by any size!

[oldtimesnew]

Prell Shampoo (1947)

[contac]

[darkmaga-returns]

... and apparently swinging straight into the Harris coffers.

Oct 25, 2024

Growing up going to sleepaway camp every summer, I always brought with me the same slippery pink sleeping bag, the same clunky Kodak camera, and the same gnawing, crippling fear. I wasn’t worried that a snake would slither into my cabin and strangle me in my sleep (it would get the gal on the bottom bunk first) or that I’d be picked dead last for every sportsball team (that was a given). I wasn’t even all that vexed by the knowledge that I’d be forced to venture out into the forest and trot back to base camp with my very own rodent/reptile/arachnid/amphibian to enter into the highly competitive Critter Crawl (yes, this was a thing in the ‘70s) that was the highlight of the week for everyone who wasn’t me and the hallmark of camp’s final, festive night.

No, my dread centered around the phobia that a fellow camper might hijack my shampoo bottle and replace its contents with a depilatory cream.

Can you imagine?

I slept with one eye open and my precious bottle of Prell tucked safely beneath my pillow.

Fast forward forty-five years and I think it’s fair to say that Bill Gates is to humanity what Nair is to a spectacular (or even mediocre) head of hair.

This week, one of the planet’s wealthiest and most perverse fauxlanthropaths donated a cool $50 million to the Harris campaign, a (relatively) tiny token of affection he hoped to bestow on the sly. [Insert every Scooby Doo villain voiceover ever: “And I would have gotten away with it… if it weren’t for you meddling kids!”]

Why would the relentless pusher of deadly pharmaceuticals, the catalyst for countless caustic public health initiatives, the passionate pusher of The (Not So) Great Reset, the mastermind behind using AI to suppress free speech and combat damning truths “misinformation,” a miscreant who’s just been indicted in the Netherlands for lying about the safety of Covid vaccines, the poster boy for depopulation, be so keen on seeing Commula in the Oval Office?