Oh, these aural outcasts! I never, and I mean NEVER, fail to come up with some interesting finds from the "permanent musical banishment" section in the thrift stores. Bless ye, you musical misfits! Please to enjoy!

Ol' T.G. here may be 3/4 lonely, but I'm betting he's 1/4 LOVIN' HIS MIRROR!

Hmm...I'm guessing those sounds are (clockwise, then middle) "HEY! YOU GUY!" and "RAAAAAAA!!" and "fart" and "plink plonk" and "blub blub blub."

Pretend you never saw this. Try.

The many moods of Belafonte are: whuuuuuut?, I'm a baby bird!, and damn, I am tired.

The secret to "livin' it" is surely in those pants pockets.

Love is...the WORLD ACTION SINGERS! Please note that every single guy here has abysmal hair.

Can you imagine telling someone, oh yeah, I'm in a band, dig it -- we're called The Harmonica Rascals! It's even harder to imagine who bought this.

No encore for YOU, Mr. Mantovani! GOOD DAY, SIR!

What more does a man need than a guitar, a hot bikini chick, and diabetes?

Kick thy own self, indeed, Brother Dave, for getting arrested for weed at the height of your career, before the hippies made that cool.

"...To find a queen without a king, they say she plays guitar and cries and sings, la la la..."

This whole thing needs to be re-titled, "PANTS!"

And finally, I don't believe this ever happened in the history of the world outside of a photographer's studio.