What did happen to these things? You still see these around the Hepper suburbs of Australia, but how do you actually get your wanking-spanners on one of these without nicking one off someone else's Hacienda?

We didn't know either. We have never seen one for sale in any antique shops or junk-stores or anywhere.

So we came up with the solution! The Legend Feel Co. has sleepy Mexicans available right here on our website. The second rule of Hep is this: There is no point in even having a house, unless it has a sleepy Mexican on it, even if it does a 1958 Ford custom-line in the driveway.

Click here to see our fantastic range of sleepy medians!

In 1964, Paul Wayne had it all: A successful career, a powerful gutsy singing voice, an enormous quiff, the ability to share the stage with J O'K, Dig Richards, and Johnny Devlin in an infamous medly/sing-off; and a big stick to beat off the screaming girls.

He recorded some rocking tunes, such as: Don't do that, Movin' Day; I like it like that; Bye baby bye bye; Carol and Keep a walkin' to name but a few.

As I said, he could really belt these songs out too, even as he was pigeon-holed as a bit of a teen-idol, he was no slouch in the singing department.

So the question begs What Happened to Paul Wayne?

We have absolutley no idea, and neither does it seem the internet, anyone have any ideas, we would love to know. We really hope things turned out OK for you buddy, cause you were one rockin' cat.

Remember Sunnyboys? The triangular-pyramid-shaped ice block of the 1970s? Well they still exist in a fashion. You can buy them in Coles, but they are more elongated in shape, but are, in essence, the same old Sunnyboy.

Another thing that is still around is Fizz whiz, remember that stuff? You can still buy Fizz Whiz, pretty much anywhere, but you don't get the spoon with it like you used to.

They still have the clown on the front, but it has hade a make-over since the 1970s. The clown now looks like it is on drugs. Which it probably is.

A lot of people never reckoned that these even existed, and even though these technically had nothing to do with the 1950s, we reckon they belong in here, as a forgotten part of Australian-culture.

Chocburgers came out in 1981, the same year as the Australian one-dollar coin. Chocburgers cost one dollar, which in those days, was hideously expensive, I guess about four or five dollars today.
I'm pretty sure that Streets made these, but even they know nothing about them, and can't even recollect ever making them. Probably because they were not a success, barely lasting the year out, they whole concept was swept under the carpet.

They have disappeared from history, and ours is the only reference we know of for the Chocburger anywhere.

The Bluebags were one of the original teams to join the Rugby League (in fact the first) in 1908, and the rest is rugby League folklore...

Newtown were runners up in the NRL grand final in 1981 (beaten by Parramatta), and by 1982, were broke, done and dusted. As far as most people were concerned disappeared into obscurity.

However, The Newtown Jets (as they have been called since 1976) are still with us, still playing and training at Henson Park (Marrickville, in Sydney), and still literally, kicking goals.
In fact, since 1982, The Jets have been playing in the Metro cup, Jim Beam Cup, and eventually the New South Wales Premiere League. In 2006 they were once again runners up (to Parramatta, yet again).

Whilst not the best, certainly the Heppest, as the Jets have a great range of clothing and merchandise available, and slowly but surely the Jets are becoming a huge part of the Newtown community again.

In fact, 8972 locals come out in support of the team ever home-game (long story).

And even better, they sell KB at Henson Park.
Check out all the fixtures, and merch at www.newtownjets.com

What happened to hats? We live in an age and time where people die of skin cancers with alarming regularity, the ozone layer is diminishing, yet everyone still walks around with their faced exposed to the sun all day.
I mean, sure, you might wear a hat to the beach, or a hat to the cricket, but what about during your every day existence? i.e. getting to the train, walking to the bottle-shop or working on the EK?

We're not talking about baseball hats either; they don't protect your ears.
In his 1998 book How to be a man, John Birmingham wrote "Don't wear hats, only Americans wear hats due to the breakdown of their education system". Well the Legend Feel Co. does not endorse this point of view, quite the opposite. Buy a hat. Wear it. Don't get skin cancer.

Ben Chifley (left) never died of skin cancer. No sir-eee. He had a massive heart attack due to all the smoking, but die of skin cancer he-did-not.

What happened to leaving beer out for the garbage-men at Christmas? Does anybody still do that?

When I was a kid, my folks always used to leave a six-pack of KB out for the garbage-men. Has this stopped? Or have I simply failed to see any beer on top of the bins on the last garbage night before Christmas.

A friend of mine, Roger, was a Garbo in Canberra during his Uni days, he reckons every Christmas, he would take home at least eight cases of beer at Christmas, not bad.

These days, I reckon our Garbos get sod-all. Scant thanks for having to put up with our garbage all year I reckon.

Having said that, I reckon an unattended six-pack of beer would last as long as a snowflake in the desert around my neighbourhood, Christmas or no Christmas.

Avon calling! Remember the Avon lady? One of the stitches in the fabric of Australian suburban life.

Our Avon lady was hot. Where did all they all go? Did they all jump-ship to Amway, or see the future coming and realise that the days of 'personal service' was going to the dogs.

Somewhere out there in the ether, are Avon ladies and milkmen all talking about the old days. Do people still hold Tupperware parties?

There was a time when every house in Australia had a bunch (what is the collective noun for a bunch of ducks called? team?) of ducks flying up the wall. This was so popular (not unlike Tretchikoff-prints and tyre swans) that it was an icon for the 50s Australian lifestyle.

Flying ducks were a metaphor for an entire culture Goddamn it, and their absence is another one.

The great shame of the whole 'concrete aboriginal' issue, was that for many Australians it was about as close to meeting an Aboriginal they were ever going to get.

It's really hard to comment on the 'concrete aboriginal'. In one way they were very endearing, lovely, and naive attempt at embracing our native culture, yet on the other hand an extremely offensive-rendition of it.

At the end of the day, they played a strange part of out nations culture, and should probably remain where they are now, in the past.

There is a house in Balmain (in Sydney), which has a few concrete aboriginals lying around in the front lawn, next to a few concrete koalas. I'd hate for anyone to be offended by them.

You're on the wrong page here, you know one of the principle aims of The Legend Feel Co. is to make sure every house in Australia has a tyre swan in its front lawn by 2010.

We will make Australia Hep again.

Click on our Hep houses page to see how you can make your very own tyre swan, tyre chicken and tyre pterodactyl.

Why are people so conservative? Why does everyone buy Ikea kitchens, but more importantly does everyone have the same kitchen?

Kitchens are the cultural centre of a house, sure they are beautiful, but are they interesting? Laminex and laminates were a wonderful invention, still with us today of course, but for god's sake choose interesting ones, not black and white, or 'wood veneer.

Another thing missing these days are hep kitchen tiles, you know, good black and white checks. Also, crock-pots, fondue sets and Hep Tupperware.

Cindy Ray.

What a gal.

For those of you who don't know her, she was widely celebrated as the 'tattooed lady', ran her own tattoo parlour in Melbourne, and even invented her own capillary-action tattoo gun. I think. She was a true pioneer for many things in many ways.

These days, everybody has a' body-modification' of some kind, including most of the spice girls and Princess Fergie. But back in the early sixties being a tattooed chick must have been pretty full on. Everyone (no one) harps on about Germaine Greer being a pioneer of sexual equality and independence, well let me tell you, she pales in comparison to Cindy, and Cindy doesn't have an over-self-inflated view of her own importance.

Anyway. The good news is, that Cindy Ray is alive and well, and still tattooing. In fact, She was admitted to the World Tattoo Hall of Fame very recently AND also has been listed in the list of fascinating Australians that the Australian National Museum (Canberra) exhibited a few years back.

Sneer if you must, but I don't remember seeing you on the list.

The standard of modern advertising and graphics, was one of the main reasons that the Legend Feel Co. came into existence, a back-lash against the ugly high-voltage visual world in which we are all forced to endure.

The lunatics took over the asylum in the late-sixties, and we have been suffering from it ever since.

When you look at some of the original commercial artists, their vision, talent and aesthetics were beyond anything that a graphic designer can do these days with fifty apple-Macintoshs’ and a million software programs, and a gazillion typefaces. And I should know, as I am one.

If you see a starving man in the street, there is a very good chance he is an out-of-work illustrator of immense talent, and a smart-arse spiky-haired, feet-on-the desk, smarmy shit-head in the latest grunge-look T-shirt, with ecstasy-habit and mobile phone with polyphonic ring tone of Moby is probably raking in a Hep hundred-grand.

It's beyond the pale I tell you.

This might be pretty-much irrelevent to anything at all, but just out of curiosity why do you never see white dog-shit anywhere?

Well this question was answered to me by Jeremy Lagan (see the big trout on our big things page). He told me that dog-food companies used to put chalk into dog-food as a filler, and it used to go right through the dog, and remain even after the nautural bits of the dog-pooh all wasted away.

As far as we know, all dogs are no Hepper than they were in the fifties, although lassie was pretty Hep when you think about it.

The largest-selling poster design of all time is this poster.

They are back as strong as ever, and if you're hep, you wouldn't be concerned, because you've got one of these in your house already.

Check out our Hep house page to see what else you might need to Hep-out your house.

Before there were Bacardi Breezers, before there was fragranced sparkling-pink champagne, before there was Jim Beam with cola, pre-mixed in a can, there was beer --and the best cold beer was 50-50.

Even when I was a teenager, you weren't Hep unless you were drinking 50-50s. A 50-50 was very simply half a glass of Tooheys New, and half a glass of Tooheys Old.

These days if you went into a bar and asked for a 50-50, the barman/bar woman (bar kid) would just give you his or her best dumb-and-stupid look, as if to say "we haven't got one of them grandad" . Actually let's try it, lets all get together and have national 50-50 day, in which we confuse all the bar-staff by ordering nothing but jugs of 50-50s from sun-up to sun-down.

Might take this one "right to the minister" Alan Jones-style.

For example: Stuffing you and all your mates into a telephone booth or Volkswagen; wearing rockets on your heads; putting as many people on the wing or an aircraft, or on a motorbike as possible; or my personal favourite, getting a kangaroo and a man to have a fight.

Anyway, the point is there was no real victim -- unless of course you consider the Kangaroo, actually what am I saying, the bloke! -- And all was fine and well. THEN some sadist, who was obviously German, invented Candid Camera and it all went to hell quick smart.

Have any of you ever-watched Australia's funniest home video show? well let me tell you it is awful. The whole show consists of watching people do serious injury to themselves while the audience applauses! This isn't a million miles form what the fricken Romans got up to!

Anyway, then we found out about "Flash gangs"? In which hundreds of people hook-up over the internet (of course) and organise to get together at a place in time (say Melbourne Town hall, midday, 12th June), and just start howling like dog (for example) while onlookers wonder what the hell is going on. Then a minute later all the flash gang wander off as if nothing has happened straight faced. How Hep is that?

Doing stupid-shit for no reason at all? The Legend Feel Co says, "Go bananas".

Nothing, and I mean nothing, is as Hep as having a boiling pot of oil on your dining table. Technically there is something very "seventies" about fondue sets, but hear us out.

Fondues originated form Europe, (where nothing of any cultural significance has ever happened, not even music), and soon permeated into Australian society some time after the second world war, probably something to do with mass-European-migration.

The idea is brilliant, you dip otherwise fairly bland food into a boiling pot of Gruyere cheese, (bread for example) Chocolate (Strawberries, rock melon) or oil (anything you want). This does a few wonderful things. Firstly make the food tastier, a damn site more fattening, and far more dangerous.

When I was a kid, we had fondues all the time, and I miss them enormously. Actually now I think about it they have probably been banned. Anyway, the facts are as follows: (1) Everyone has a Fondue Set (2) No-one has Fondue Parties.

Back in the fifties, everyone was tough and learned boxing at school, people were a lot more courteous and civilly responsible. However, for some reaon, people used to beat each other up all the time.

If you went in to a pub in which you were not a regular, and could read and write pretty well, or possibly not wearing a Singlet, there was a 100% chance that someone would "go-you" as quick as look at you (have you read The Glass Canoe, by David Ireland?)
But after a few clean punches and a bit of "fair enough punchy, you win", the winner, would shake hands with you, slap you on the back and buy you a beer. Nice.

These days you WILL get punched in the head four hundred times by at least seven people, most likely stabbed somewhere fairly important, kicked in the head enough to do some serious, serious damage, all while not a sole comes to your defence.

Quite frankly, this sucks. The problem really is how do you reverse the clock on this modern-day protocol. As we all know "revenge is a dish served cold" -- do something that these modern day arse-hole ninjas least expect -- when you get out of hospital and the court case is over, urinate in the air-vent on the bonnet of their Subaru for as long as they live, and impregnate their sister.