At this time of year, I usually write about my pet peeves about calendars, but since I driven this into the ground, I thought I’d give it amiss this year. Some time before or after New Year, I buy a new calendar once they go on half price. I usually got some sort of art. In the past few years, I’ve had Gil Elvgren pinups, paintings of Spanish dancers, and New Yorker cartoons. This year is a calendar titled, Salute (vintage French liquor advertisements). The art for January has the dirtiest, nondirty picture I’ve ever seen in my life:
