Bomb Throwing Pacifist
If you took that happy, smiling guy from the box of Quaker Oats, handed him a bottle of gin and a rifle, and pissed him off to a point where he decided he wasn't going to take it anymore, you'd get a little something like this.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Fix that Caption!
If there's one thing I truely detest in life, it's crappy, unfunny comics. However, if they do have one redeeming factor that makes them somewhat enjoyable to read, it's the fact that they are a hell of a lot of fun to laugh at (just look at Faithmouse, the anthorpomorphic toilet seat).
This week's edition of "Fix that Caption" comes to us by way of a Faithmouse link. The drivel goes by the name of "Hey Harry" and is in the words of the author: "a family friendly, clean, single panel weekly comic drawn by yours truly, Thomas Ebert. Where the cartoon character "Harry" can range from bird, fish, guy, girl and so on, all cartoons in a uniquely funny situation and enjoyable for all ages kids to adults."
Assuming of course that the kids and adults in question are locked away in a mental institution and have had their frontal lobes severed via the magic of a transorbital lobotomy and thorazine. Anyway, here goes.
,
Because, honey, one nightmare a night is quite enough as it is, thanks.
Up a certain creek without a certain instrument?
I'll say! Never seen a stream quite that powerful before in my life!
And a predisposition to narcolepsy. As you may or may not know, it tends to run in families.
And on the day of your psychiatrist's appointment too!
And so the ancient sport of Siamese twin tag-team wrestling made its way to American shores.
Rocket haybales. The first, last, and only Amish line of defense.
And so the next chapter of the Lovecraft horror mythos was born...
She says if I keep this up, maybe I can get a job working for Halliburton!
And I told you that low-flying Stuka wasn't a cropduster either, hun.
No honey, of course not. I will, however, need some of your skin.
Don't see why not. You're obviously renting your "wife."
And now that I've recieved my special haircut, I'm ready to go "ride the lightning." Whatever that means.
This week's edition of "Fix that Caption" comes to us by way of a Faithmouse link. The drivel goes by the name of "Hey Harry" and is in the words of the author: "a family friendly, clean, single panel weekly comic drawn by yours truly, Thomas Ebert. Where the cartoon character "Harry" can range from bird, fish, guy, girl and so on, all cartoons in a uniquely funny situation and enjoyable for all ages kids to adults."
Assuming of course that the kids and adults in question are locked away in a mental institution and have had their frontal lobes severed via the magic of a transorbital lobotomy and thorazine. Anyway, here goes.
,
Because, honey, one nightmare a night is quite enough as it is, thanks.
Up a certain creek without a certain instrument?
I'll say! Never seen a stream quite that powerful before in my life!
And a predisposition to narcolepsy. As you may or may not know, it tends to run in families.
And on the day of your psychiatrist's appointment too!
And so the ancient sport of Siamese twin tag-team wrestling made its way to American shores.
Rocket haybales. The first, last, and only Amish line of defense.
And so the next chapter of the Lovecraft horror mythos was born...
She says if I keep this up, maybe I can get a job working for Halliburton!
And I told you that low-flying Stuka wasn't a cropduster either, hun.
No honey, of course not. I will, however, need some of your skin.
Don't see why not. You're obviously renting your "wife."
And now that I've recieved my special haircut, I'm ready to go "ride the lightning." Whatever that means.
Marc with a C, 11:47 AM
