Here are some jokes about tweens, a buzzword I hate with a passion. Was preteen too normal-sounding for Disney programmers and marketing assholes?
On a completely unrelated note, here’s Justin Bieber getting beaned with a water bottle, Autotune style:
Next Week: Gay Marriage Ruins Everything
Coco’s coming to the Wang Theatre in Boston this weekend, and what better way to celebrate than with a dick joke?
I’ll be at Friday’s show, after lubricating my laugh-hole at The Tam.
And pedantic perverts needn’t bother correcting my spelling of “coming.” Even if I wasn’t going for the double entendre, spelling come with a u is a stylistic choice made by porno graphic designers who are trying to save valuable magazine and DVD cover real estate for close-ups of va-ding-dong-ginas.
I did something similar two years ago. If you’re curious, I usually go to the recurring bit well to get a couple weeks ahead in my cartooning schedule so I can go on vacation.
Unless that Icelandic volcano stops me, I’ll be in London in a week. I’ve already received lots of excellent recommendations for things I should do and see and drink. But I have one more request: What record shops/thrift stores should I hit up to snag some vintage limey vinyl?
To unify that request with this week’s cartoon, here’s a funny old British PSA I found while researching the comic:
Don’t let strangers in your house unless you want your candlesticks to go up their butts!
And yeah, my Orson came out looking a lot like a drunk Mel Gibson. Sorry, sugartits!
Next Week: Great Moments in Commencement Speeches
The Gulf Coast is getting fucked again. This is a companion piece to something I drew several months after Katrina.
Frankie and Annette should show up at every disaster on the United States’ coast.
Maybe it’s something about spring training that turns states into assholes.
For a state that relies so heavily on tourism, Arizona’s new immigration law is a pretty dumb move. But it’s not unprecedented. As a whole, the US is a giant pain in the ass for tourists, with all the fingerprinting and general “guilty until proven innocent” vibe we give them at customs. Arizona just expanded the hassle to its own citizens, particularly the brown ones.
I’m not going to write much about the “Papers, Please” law since it’s been covered so much this week, but I want to direct you to Matt’s cartoon, which went up within hours of its passing.
I’d boycott Arizona, but I’ve been doing that my entire life without even trying. PF Chang’s, Go Daddy, John “My Friend” McCain? Arizona, quit making garbage so I can boycott you!
Color pixels arranged on your screen in a comical fashion? It’s a fuckin’ magical miracle you neden heads!
If you missed the ICP un-science anthem that swept the web last week, here it is:
The CDC should force Faygo to print basic, grade-school level science facts on their labels.
I’ve covered the Large Hadron Collider before. It’s still a few years from operating at full “fuck particles way the fuck up” power, but it looks like it’s now safe from time-traveling, probability-bending ripples.
We’re just days away from Kentucky Fried Chicken’s newest awful thing, the Double Down, a bacon and cheese sandwich made with two pieces of fried chicken instead of bread. We shouldn’t call it a chicken sandwich, because that’s not how the -sandwich syntax works.
If you hadn’t heard of this culinary abomination, here’s the commercial.
Along with their sadness bowls, KFC has abandoned its core mission of making tasty fried chicken. Taco Bell did a similar thing when they shifted focus from making tacos to wrapping baby shit in a soft shell tortilla.
There has to be a long lost Apostle who was really into abusing children. The Catholic Church was willing to slack on the whole fish on Friday thing as modern lifestyles changed, but they remain sticklers for the whole protecting-rapists thing.
Matt Bors has more on the subject.
If pope hat is not already a euphemism for a sex act, we should put our filthy thinking caps on.
I know the Pope’s a German Nazi, but it’s too much fun to say that line from the Alka Seltzer commercial.
In an interview with the Russian kid who created Chatroulette, he said he named it after this famous scene in The Deer Hunter. I am dubious about his claim. How could a Russian be unaware of Russian Roulette until he saw it in an American movie? They even play it at weddings over there. If he really wanted to pay homage to this fine film, he would’ve named his website “Shoot Yourself in the Head with Christopher Walken.”
