7. I sincerely hope this copywriter was on acid when he wrote this. Actually, no. That’s a massive insult to the regular acid-writers of the late 60s. (I posted this ad yesterday, but had to include it here, too).
9. What you are, Equinox: A FUCKING GYM. What you’re not: an ancient, magical mystical elvish chamber where mortal men come by horse and foot to polish their auras and discover their dormant—but predetermined—purposes.