Back in the mid-20th century, before the creative Mad Men came along and swept them aside, spokes-heads were the tits.

The bodiless porter is singin’ the blues cause all the businessmen are using Listerine to get rid of their dandruff, so he ain’t got no suit brushing to do, which equals no tips. Also, because he has no penis.

What stomach?

And, soft shrooms.

Get the mop ready!

I’m good at cunnilingus.

What he said.

Burping out his neck.

I can’t get…AHEAD.

Pretty. I bet she’s got a hot bod.

I’m getting head tonight…oh wait.

No, not an ad, but Fats Waller.

They sacrificed their bodies in the war, but at least they get free ice cream.

Arthur Godfrey’s big head.

Clean-shaven submissive head of sales seeks Dom with barbed wire.

Yeah, I need a jockstrap like I need another hole in my head.

Lung cancer, smung cancer.

Seems legit.

Even celebs were be-bodied in ads.

Can’t drown without lungs.