March 24, 2017

February 22, 2017

March Madness

Do they watch March Madness on the television in the insane asylum? 

Hey Bobby. Stop eating your hair. March Madness is on. 

Shut up Stewart. I don't eat my hair. I chew on it and spit it onto the window sill. Get it straight. 

Well that's much better. 

December 14, 2016

The Maintenance Men

The maintenance men gathered in the warehouse cafeteria. At first it was two, followed by three more. By 6:30, ten people sat on the benches of two picnic-style tables bolted to a polished concrete floor. Several of the men had rolling tool cases parked nearby. A group of traveling office types would have similar looking luggage holding enough clothes to handle a three day trip to visit customers. These men's suitcases were full of tools. 

Among the group sat two women, who had been the first to arrive, get cups of coffee and chat about whatever they wished until the men showed up to talk shop. 

November 23, 2016

Two Men in Polite Society

The two men sat across the picnic table from one another, discussing the work schedule for the day. The dark haired one wore glasses and was the direct supervisor for several temporary workers. The gray haired man was his boss. In front of the gray haired man sat open a thin silver laptop. Both men drank coffee.


The gray haired man pecked out notes on the keyboard while the dark haired man tapped his right foot and gesticulated with both hands, struggling to get across whatever point he was trying to make at 7:19 a.m. Both men wore their contractor security badges around their necks on red lanyards, the tear-away kind, designed to disconnect from the wearer should they get caught in one of the 33 miles of conveyor belts that ran throughout the building like a clunky circulatory system.


The dark haired man swung one foot to the outside of the bench he sat upon, as if to make a move toward leaving. The gray haired man remained still. The dark haired man was due back to his work station. The gray haired man was the boss, and could stay in the cafeteria drinking coffee and surfing the web all morning if he wanted. It was that sort of arrangement that angered the dark haired man. After all, he had a college degree. And didn't he know more about the system than his boss? If that gray haired bastard were hit by a bus, the operation would continue making money like nothing had happened. But if he were hit by a bus, or felled by the heart attack that was surely sneaking up  on him, who would know how to turn on the complex sorters that moved boxes here and there? The next person in charge was Don Millbank and Don was not prepared to take control, especially if what he carried around in his travel mug was still half Vodka.


The gray haired man must have been joking around  because the dark haired man laughed and nodded at whatever drivel was coming out of his boss' stupid face. The dark haired man was sure he could beat up his boss. And if they were outside society, where business is handled in a much more physical way, he would prove it. And there that fool would be, lying on his back in the dust, wondering what the hell just happened. But they weren't outside society. They were all too far inside society, where the rules said a direct report has to sit across the picnic table from his boss and laugh at his jokes and not walk away until he is given permission to do so. That is, if he had any instinct for self-preservation and an interest in continuing to cash those paychecks that kept certain family members clothed and fed. So he kept laughing and kept tapping that right leg, in the hopes that one day he'd be on the other side of the table. It would be his laptop accepting those notes. It would be his cup of coffee waiting to be drunk. And people would listen and laugh at him. They'd have no choice. That's what you do in polite society. 


Alfred Studer sat in the employee cafeteria eating a plastic cup filled with yogurt and granola. The flat panel television on the wall broadcast ESPN, but the sound was not turned up and the captions were not on, so all you could do was watch.


The lady working the cash register sat on a bench near her work station and chatted with employees who wandered by to get their morning cup of coffee. Alfred glanced at the clock on his laptop. The time was 6:53 a.m. His cell phone was still drawing a charge from the full battery of the HP computer, which was not itself plugged in.


A man who works on the warehouse floor walked behind Albert on his way to his work area.


"Good morning, Albert. How you doin'?"

"Good, how are you", Albert replied quickly.

"Doing well, thank you," the man answered.


Albert beat himself up a little bit over not saying "well" instead of "good". He knew that was the correct grammar, but the word "good" just came out. Now that guy was going to remember that Albert Studer doesn't know how to speak properly and that would hurt him one day down the road. Albert believed that every small decision point like that was an opportunity to steer his life in a positive or negative direction. Next time he'd be ready. "I'm doing well," he practiced to himself. Then he coughed without covering his mouth. Another bad decision. But no one was around this time, so no harm done.


The yogurt cup was empty. Albert carefully placed the plastic spoon wrapper inside the cup and bent in half the plastic spoon so it would fit inside the cup once the top was snapped in place. These kinds of control-grabbing behaviors were signature to Albert's personality. One of his three ink pens was a couple of inches away from the other two. He moved it over to make a neat trio of pens, and checked his phone battery. It was at 43% now.


An employee walked through a set of double doors at the other end of the cafeteria. He wore exercise clothes and aviator sunglasses. Albert wondered why the guy would wear sunglasses inside. Was it an ego thing? Was the guy covering up a lazy eye or something strange going on with his face? Or was it something more deeply psychological? Either way it wasn't right. Wearing sunglasses inside was an indicator. And Albert was always on the lookout for indicators.



November 21, 2016

The Foonwhistle Pepper Jelly Incident

Cunnard Hamilton was addicted to parrots. His house smelled of bird poop and the noise from all the squawking birds was so bad he hardly ever had a human visitor. Cunnard's other hobby was making jelly that he sold in the local farmer's market under the name Hamilton's Parrot Jelly. Cunnard's oldest African Blue Parrot named Manfred was pictured on the label. Lately Cunnard's business had been booming. His pepper jelly was a top seller.

Margaret Foonwhistle bought two jars of pepper jelly from Cunnard last Sunday. She loved to eat pepper jelly on small wheat crackers she bought from Murray's Food Castle on Rebecca Road. Being on fixed income, Margaret always bought the store brand crackers, because she suspected they were made in the same processing plant as the name brand. She considered herself smarter than the average consumer, and she was not about to fall for this sort of trick. Showing Margaret your pantry was tantamount to asking for a fight. If she found you eating something with a heavily marketed brand on it, she'd lay into you about how you were wasting your money. She could save you tons of cash if you'd only listen to her.

On Sunday night, Margaret settled into her recliner with her Siamese cat Master Felstead. On the side table was a blue and white porcelain plate with a dozen wheat crackers and a jar of Hamilton's Pepper Jelly. After popping the seal on the jar, a sound which sent Master Felstead fleeing into the bedroom, she spooned out some of the jelly using the state of Ohio commemorative spoon she'd purchased on her last trip to Toledo. It wasn't until her second bite that she noticed the feather stuck to her tongue. It was a blue feather, the kind you might find on an African Blue Parrot.

The trial started six months later. Margaret hired local personal injury attorney J. Stanfill Montgomery from over in Palmer City to represent her. Margaret had seen Montgomery on his numerous commercials wherein he recommended his clients call him to get "The Full Monty". After three days of testimony, the jury was out for 5 hours before returning a guilty verdict and awarding Ms. Foonwhistle personal damages in the amount of $3.6 Million dollars. Cunnard Hamilton explained that he had little money to his name and that his jelly company had minimal insurance. But it was no use. He was ruined. Two weeks after the verdict, on a rainy Saturday morning, Cunnard Hamilton took the easy way out. Ever since then, if you ever brought up pepper jelly to Margaret Foonwhistle, get ready to hear about how you should spare yourself the trouble and buy the big name brand pepper jelly. Even if it did cost a few pennies more. 

November 17, 2016

Diddle Hopkins and the Hot Dog Museum Referral

There once was a guy who liked horses. He liked to feed them, shoe them and ride them. Then one day when he was out riding his favorite horse Ridiculous Pete, a school bus driver came along who was in his cups and ran that horse right the hell over. The guy lived and can I tell you that he was pissed off. At least after he woke up from his coma, anyway. Mostly because Ridiculous Pete was dead and had already been sold to the dogfood factory over in Lewistown. But also because while he was recovering, Willie Nelson came to town twice and he missed both shows. Old Willie won't be touring forever and this guy really liked that song Whiskey River. He liked the song so much that he named his detective agency after it. The Whiskey River Detective Agency was a pretty good business for 4 years, but there are only so many cheating husbands in town, especially after the tube sock factory closed back in 1983. It turns out the Chinese can make socks for a couple of pennies cheaper than Americans, so why not kill the economic motivation of everyone in town. Most of those rednecks couldn't find China on a map of China, much less have enough skills to get a job at the new International Hot Dog Museum over in McGavock. Earline Palmer got the job working the front desk. And everyone knows how terrible she is, but since her brother mows the grass at the funeral home, he had a connection on the inside and got her on at just over the minimum wage. Six other townspeople got part time working setting up the displays, but how long could that possibly last? Maxine Fillrup who runs the PigKnuckle Diner says the museum won't last 3 years, not the way June Hopkins keeps the books. And Maxine should know because she was married to June's brother Diddle Hopkins before he had a stroke and started believing he was the resurrected spirit of Hank Williams. 

A Dark Village Lousy with Ninjas

There once was a dark village that was lousy with Ninjas. Those sneaky bastards would hide in the trees and bushes, sometimes behind a wall before climbing it to kick some ass. People out walking their pet tigers and shit would end up dead with a bunch of Chinese throwing stars all sticking out of their bloody skin. And sometimes their guts would be just lying about being eaten by carnivorous birds. 

Anyway, this village was really dark and everyone wondered why no one figured out how to light a torch here or there. So when the moon wasn't out, you couldn't see your stupid hand in front of your ridiculous grill. It's normally quiet outside, but some bitches over on Doodle Street kept playing their radios too loud and I hoped a Ninja would go over there and shut that shit up. But of course it wouldn't happen and I had to stay in my room and just be pissed off.

This neighborhood has all kinds of weird stuff going on all the time. Most of it is creepy in a bad way, but occasionally something stupid will happen. Such was the case when Joe the Mumbler picked a fight in the local coin op laundry and killed 13 people with his bare hands before the deputy sheriff shot him to death. I was just hanging around looking for Ninjas when I saw the whole thing happen. 

When the county coroner carried away Joe's shot up ass body in his terrible rust bucket of a hearse, I went over to Joe's pickup truck and ate the rest of his potato chips. Hell, no one else was going to do it and they were just sitting there on the front seat next to his pet lizard named Punk. I'm actually surprised I got out of that ignorant truck without Punk biting me on the stupid hand like he often does. Everyone in town knows that the Ninjas are the number one dangerous thing in the village. A close second was Punk. He was a Brazilian Iguana and was a kind of blue green in color. 

I heard a long time ago that iguanas carry leprosy or some shit, but I didn't believe rumors like that. Just like the time the preacher over in Toddleblock Ferry tried to convince me that the government had a third party run entirely by vampires. When I heard that I got down off that merry go round immediately, never mind the pocketful of unused tickets making my Levis bulge out like some sort of freak.

I ran home immediately and went to bed. But not after eating a while shit ton of sugary cereal and throwing up into my collection of rat skeletons. The last time I did that, it took me six weeks to get the stink out. And that was before the air conditioner went out. 

Anyway, I think I hear some Ninjas creeping around outside, so I'm gonna go peek out through the curtains and try not to get my ever loving ass kicked. 

May 23, 2016

May 16, 2016

Exercise May Cut Risk of 13 Cancers, Study Suggests | Health Care | US News | US News

Moderate and vigorous activity includes brisk walking, tennis, jogging, swimming

But, it dramatically increases your chance of developing the deadly "exercise cancer"!

Raising the Dead

May 10, 2016

The illustrated obituary

Why isn't there such a thing as an illustrated obituary? 

May 6, 2016

Phone sketch

Sent via the Samsung GALAXY S® 5, an AT&T 4G LTE smartphone

Sent via the Samsung GALAXY S® 5, an AT&T 4G LTE smartphone

No joking matter: 1940s political cartoons warned US of Holocaust

No joking matter: 1940s political cartoons warned US of Holocaust

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May 5, 2016

While getting ready for bed:

Daddy, we can go pee outside when we get done with our nap. 

Is my favorite cat going to die?

George: Daddy, did all the cats die? 
Me: Our cats? 
George: Yeah. There was another one? 
Me: Yeah
George: Is my favorite cat going to die? 
Me: which one is your favorite? The fat one or the skinny black one? 
George : The skinny black one. Is he going to die? 
Me: Well, the black one is a girl cat. 
George : Where did she go? 
Me: I dunno. She's around here somewhere. 
George : I think she went outside for a little rest. 
Me: Hahahaha. Outside the room or outside the house? 
George : Outside the house. 
Me: You're something else, you know? 

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All pets should visit a veterinarian

May 4, 2016


Sugar cubes
Clinking noise
How many salami pieces? 

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May 3, 2016

Gap Year

Where I come from, taking a gap year means working at The Gap after graduating high school because you have neither the money nor the motivation to apply for college.


Baby alarm clock
Spilled coffee beans
George reading A a story
Sleeping bag

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May 2, 2016

Cocktail Recipe: The Papaw

Also originating in rural Mississippi in the 1970s, this comfort keeper is a perfect precursor for checking trot lines, trips to the package store, and for when the fish fryer needs a good cleaning.

Ingredients in The Papaw
  • Plastic cup from the local catfish restaurant
  • 6 oz. Maalox or equivalent antacid 
  • 3 oz. bourbon or other alcohol 
  • ½ pack of Salem 100s
How to prepare The Papaw
  • Add 3 oz. of bourbon to the plastic cup 
  • Fill with 6 oz. Maalox 
  • Serve with Salem 100s
Successful food pairings
  • Leftover fried frog legs from last night’s hunt 
  • Rag bologna cut away with pocket knife 
  • Cornbread from 2 days back

Cocktail Recipe: The Memaw

This cocktail originated in the 1970s in the American South, more specifically in rural Mississippi. Low income women often used this concoction to pass the time between whipping grandchildren with switches and kitchen table discussions about who in the family is sick and dying.

Ingredients in The Memaw
  • Coffee cup decorated with CB radio slang
  • 3 oz. black coffee
  • 6 oz. Jack Daniels or other bourbon whiskey
  • 1-2 strips of crisp pork bacon
  • Pack of Winston red cigarettes
How to prepare The Memaw
  • Add 3 oz. black coffee to the coffee cup
  • Fill with 6 oz. bourbon
  • Garnish with 1-2 strips of crisp (possibly burned) pork bacon
  • Serve with pack of Winston red cigarettes

April 30, 2016

Before Kids / After Kids

Before Kids : Where should we eat dinner? Something sit down or drive thru? 
After Kids : Where should we eat dinner? The table or the living room?  

Before Kids/After Kids

Before Kids: If I go to the gym every week, I could have six pack abs. 

After Kids: If I drink a six pack a week does that make me an alcoholic? 

April 29, 2016

I wonder if it's gonna rain in Memphis today?

NFL Superfan Not Drafted...Again

It's usually a car or a truck that's a few years old. Sometimes it's a cubicle. Occasionally it's the person him/herself. How painful it must be to carefully create a living shrine to a sports organization that will NEVER (and I mean never) acknowledge the person doing it.

Dear Superfan: Nothing like this will ever happen to you:

"Excuse me, sir. Is that your 2003 Chevy Malibu parked outside? I notice that every inch of it is plastered with Steelers logos. Would you like a job in our team's front office? We need someone to sit in on important meetings about draft picks and which plays to run next Sunday. We need someone who will be available at a moment's notice when the game is on the line. How's $100,000 a year to start? Let's get that done for you, superfan. We appreciate your undying support."

Now, I get it. Life didn't turn out the way you would have preferred. You wanted to be the starting quarterback for the Broncos. Instead, you perform a mundane task for a faceless corporation that underpays and under-appreciates your real talent - emblazoning an inanimate object with marketing material. You can follow a theme, for sure. Some folks see a 17 year old station wagon. You see a rolling monument to Bernie Kosar. Some folks see a cubicle in a sea of cubicles. You see the Jim "Catfish" Hunter museum.

Part of me envies you. I wish I could get so into something over which I had no control, that I could just let go and lose myself in the moment. I wish I could spend endless weekend hours devouring lobster pots full of Doritos and washing them down with the amount of beer used to fill Michael Phelps' practice pool. For that, my hat is off to you. I just don't know which logo should be on that hat. 

Also on Web Toon now... (to force me to be organized)

Not a lot of people look at this blog, but all of you are the best. I heard a bunch of comic-liking folk (a.k.a. weirdos) were hanging out at Web Toon. And they let me just create a free place to put stuff. Blogger doesn't have a comic template, so let's see if Web Toon can get some eyes on the stuff.

What do you feel like eating?

Daddy, what does pee taste like?

They don't have babies. They have dogs.

I don't want old bubbles. I want new bubbles.


Dirty dishes strip club
I dream of diaper genie
Mount Dirty Dishes
Bathtub Toy store

Drawing blog called Junk Drawer - Checked availability of, but some other clever bloke has dibs.

Hugh Laurie is pretty bald on the back of his head. Noticed that while watching the 2nd episode of The Night Manager on AMC. The guy who plays Loki in the Avengers movies is the main character. Anyway. Pretty good so far.

April 28, 2016

Go Dean Haspiel!

Hey Turd (part 2)

Billy: 😮 Hey Turd!
Turd: 😠 Don't call me Turd, fucker!
Billy: 😕 Okay, relax.
Turd: 😤 Ok then
Billy: 😃 Okay Turd!
Turd: 😭

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Hey Turd

(Billy and Turd) 
:) - Hey Turd
:( - Hey
:) - Watcha doin'?
:( - Nothin 
(Enter Joe) 
:| - 'sup douches? 
:) - 'sup Joe?
:( - Hey Joe
:| - Tuuuuurd!!!

April 27, 2016

Jim Thompson: The Killer Inside Me

I'm putting this here so I don't forget about it.

Trash Girl

April 26, 2016

Trump fans demand to know what collusion means and why Cruz/Kasich are doing it to their guy

7 ways to convince people you're in shape.

1. Steer as many conversations as possible back to a jumping jacks metaphor.  
2. Give new Ironman movie a poor review because you thought it was about running. 
3. Eat tuna straight from the can, preferably with pocket knife.
4. Numerical bumper stickers with decimal points 
5. Proclaim you could do 1,000 push ups, but don't want to right now. 
6. Memorize the protein content of several different types of beans. 
7. Dress for work as if your cubicle is at the summit of Everest. 

More Unanswered questions

Did the C.I.A. train an eagle to shoot JFK then fly away? 

Can chimpanzees see all the colored panels on a beach ball? 

Is the popular film Edward Scissorhands loosely based on the life of Henry Kissinger? 

Did Gandhi have the normal amount of toes?

The question keeps coming up of whether or not Mahatma Gandhi had the normal number of toes on each foot. Science has concluded that the average adult male has no more and no less than 5 toes on each foot. The attached photo, I believe, puts to rest any suggestion that Gandhi had anything but the normal number of toes. Of course, the level of public discourse on the internet these days will likely not allow this clear evidence to silence all doubters. I can only hope that I’ve done my part to dissuade those who would besmirch the character of perhaps the 20th century’s most revered purveyor of peace.

Did Emperor Hirohito Ever See The Band Boston In Concert?

Answer: Possible, but not likely. (2% probability)

World War 2 Leaders Lifespan vs. War Span

Key observations:

·       Hitler had the shortest life of all

·       Both Asian leaders lived to be 88

·       Churchill was the oldest when the war started (65)

·       Hirohito was the youngest when the war started (38)

·       Hirohito lived nearly to 1990, so he would have been able to play video games and watch MTV.

·       Hitler, Roosevelt and Mussolini did not survive the war


Lifespan of the Impressionists vs. American Civil War Span

It's interesting that while Americans were killing each other by the thousands, these French painters were mostly in their early 20s and painting landscapes, ballet dancers and the like. Imagine the social media implications if this happened today.

Tennessee just holding large pot farm for friend Arkansas

April 25, 2016

Hands for Reference

Make Your Own Sketchbook

World's 2nd best assassin waiting by the phone

Dozens of novels and television dramas begin with the world's top assassin being hired for the job du jour. Meanwhile,  the world's 2nd most dangerous assassin sits by his telephone eating potato chips and binge watching Netflix. 

moleskine recreates game of thrones opening sequence with 7600 paper cutouts

moleskine recreates game of thrones opening sequence with 7600 paper cutouts

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Links to Comics

Poorly Drawn Lines
Cyanide and Happiness
Pie Comic

How Long Animals Live