I picked up this decades-old Johnson Smith catalog a while back, and it's absolutely great. I don't know what year it's from, but the prices are so low that even saying "the `60s" seems way off base. Wouldn't be surprised if it's much, much older than that -- after all, Johnson Smith has been around for a long time and still continues throwing fun crappy stuff at the world regardless of whatever company name they're going by nowadays. There's so much in here worth showing you, from the ten-buck semi-automatics to Camel cigarettes at two dollars a carton, but we'll start with this and save the rest for a rainy day:

Oh man...ILLEGAL PETS! Rules on animal ownage have changed quite a bit over the decades, but even if you were able to snag any of the four shown on that page, I really doubt it'd be from the same place you pick up joy buzzers. Faux chameleons and horned toads aren't too out of the ordinary, but the baby turtles! Oh how I've longed! Ever since that kid had one in My Blue Heaven! Seared with salmonella, pet stores are strictly forbidden to hock 'em here. Rumors persist that they're available from any number of street vendors in Chinatown, but hey, who wants to carry around a baby turtle for six hours afterwards? They're not packs of gum, or sugar gliders.

The real killer is the baby-alligators-for-sale thing. God I'd rip the manhood off right now, fry it, eat it and throw it up on any of your grandmothers to land myself a baby freakin' alligator. A buck fifty. For a baby alligator. That I could grow to immense sizes and sic on people who offend me. Holy yes.