Good morning. I wrote about Project Runway last night, and also discussed which bit of pop culture I would have liked more had it ended earlier over at the AV Club.

Someone found this 1938 ladies' guide for dating, which has a lot of strict do's and don't's for women, but to me it's more of a tragic story of a date gone wrong between and innocent fun-loving gal and a manipulative, perverted man.

First:

Contrary to the captions on these photos, though, it doesn't look like the guy is having such a bad time if you catch me drift. But then:

Oh really? Maybe the guy's just mad that this lady is running her yap instead of showing off her girdle or other unmentionables. Who wants to dance with somebody who's so anal-retentive about dancing, anyway?

You know, if you're ashamed of your date, try not to show it by pretending that your hand is a wall. You are the rude one in that scenario.

Withholder.

Clearly he is finding mirth in her sadness.

Who can blame her? She's on a date with this total pill and if the waiter is a nice guy, she might as well talk to somebody who will do more than just ogle her and laugh when she cries.

If I were on a date like she's on I'd get hammered too.

Well I guess this one speaks for itself.