Sunday, April 21, 2019

Game of Thrones

I planned on writing a post for the Game of Thrones premiere but Elizabeth Warren beat me to it.

I've said good things about all candidates but I've got a friend who, despite his best intentions, is a total twat online about his love for Barnhard Sandora. He posted, "Thank you for your smile, your encouragement, your [it goes on for a paragraph]. Thank you, Bronie Sumter." It could have ended with "Jesus" or "Cosmic Center."

Here's where I rate all Democratic candidates.

ANDREW YANG NEEDS $1000 A MONTH TO BUY A TIE

PETE BUTTIGIEG NEEDS A MORE STYLISH BOWL FOR HIS MOTHER TO PUT ATOP HIS DOME

BERNIE WANTS UNIVERSAL HEALTHCARE BECAUSE THAT BANDAGE IS SUPPOSED TO BE ON HIS PENIS BUT HE HAD TO GO TO THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE FOR AN AFFORDABLE PROCEDURE

ELIZABETH WARREN WANTS TO TAKE A MIRROR OUT OF THE WHITE HOUSE BATHROOM AND STAND BEHIND IT TO WAIT FOR TRUMP TO SEE IF HE NOTICES THAT IT'S JUST HER PLAYING A PRANK

AMY KLOBUCHAR THREW THIS FROM THE BOTTOM OF THIS LIST. IT HIT BERNIE IN THE PENIS.

JULIAN CASTRO STRUGGLES TO STAND OUT

HAD TO PUT THE CASTRO BROTHERS AND THE BINDER THAT HIT BERNIE IN THE DICK BETWEEN JOE BIDEN AND ELIZABETH WARREN

COREY BOOKER SAYING FUCK BECAUSE NOBODY LIKES HIM

KAMALA HARRIS YELLS AT ALL THE KIDS SHE PUT IN JAIL TO STOP TALKING ABOUT IT

TELL YOUR MOM TO CUT AROUND THIS BOWL, BUTTIGIEG.

GILLIBRAND MAKES A BETTER TV PRESIDENT

STOP THROWING SHIT, AMY. 


Thursday, January 31, 2019

The New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest: Gone for half a year and something somebody posted me offended me! edition.

Hey, oh! It's the New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest! Woo! A contest I never enter, will never win, and will constantly do because I hate its very existence. A friend of mine once called my attempts "derivative" of his attempts but he ignored the fact that I never entered and mine actually made people laugh every once in a while. Take that, punk ass!

Please go until completion. I can probably get a discount for that. 

The winds of change are upon us. HA! HA! It's a Trump joke. Get it? No? Fuck you, Fascist. 

Constantly with the Mexicans and the refugees, too. Ugh. 

So I said, "Look! If you're going to wave that thing of milk-potatoes at me, at least take me out to dinner before you bend me over and poop in my butt!



And for my next trick, I unshred a document.


This motherfucker forgot to order drinks.



Listen, bitch, if you keep doing that I'm going to have to call your mom. 



This is a really dumb place to live. 


Friday, January 25, 2019

Doodle a Day #1

You're not brushing vigorously enough. 

The Right Wing Loves Beards Now So I Shaved My Face and Discovered Missing Chins

Ted Cruz, begat from slime secreted out of the asshole of a toad and some foot cheese that was scraped off with a rock somewhere in Canada, now has a beard. It is disturbing because it makes him look more human. It is disturbing because it gives definition to a face that once was the vocal sac used to attract amphibian partners once a year. It is disturbing most because when I looked in the mirror, I realized Ted Cruz was copying me.

A human family held hostage by a frog-and-foot-cheese hybrid smiles to avoid the wrath of an overactive vocal sac

Now, a little Trump has a beard. A face which once had no shape, now has a visible border between neck and face. He built a goddamn wall on his face to give more shape to his body than what once appeared like a discarded condom on a couch at a frat house. 

Someone played Wooly Willy with his face


I was defeated. The right wing has appropriated the last vestige of my my teenaged communism. I had a beard because Karl Marx had a beard and everyone knows he spent hours combing vaginal fluids out of it (because it was so sexy). Now the right wing wears a beard like they love Russia or something. 

I got out my Mach-Whatever razor and spent minutes scraping off my cheeks. I did the normal things one does when shaving their face off. I gave myself long sideburns, I gave myself a goatee, I gave myself the GG Allin. I laughed and sobbed as my tears and beard hair mixed into a beautiful kaleidoscope as they circled the drain of my sink. 

"Goodbye, youth!" I thought to myself. I imagined myself blowing the candles of a birthday cake. It was a new year. It is a new me. 

I had four chins. 

You should start listening to We Shot Mr. Burns.