Friday Funnies

...now browsing by category

 

Booster Seat

Friday, March 16th, 2012

Friday Funnies: Aping Mark Twain

Friday, February 10th, 2012

Friday Funnies: Who can it be?

Friday, January 20th, 2012

You never know what might turn up when you clean house. I found a small notebook I kept while on a art-class tour of European museums. This is a sketch I made in 1972 of one of the teachers. He’s pretty much the same today …

CellPhoto: Half-Sized Double Issue

Friday, January 6th, 2012


I’m unsure, but … does this mean that this issue is normal-sized?

12 Days of Christmas, Royal Navy

Friday, December 16th, 2011

Friday Funnies: Banana please

Friday, September 9th, 2011

Friday Funnies: Caption Contest

Friday, March 18th, 2011

Preparing for their first visit to Gay Paree … the boys practiced tirelessly.


Thanks to Rachel Chesser, once again!

Friday Funnies: Caption Contest Winner

Thursday, February 17th, 2011

Needs more cowbell! (courtesy Mutt)

Friday Funnies: The New Civility

Friday, January 28th, 2011

I have no idea if the following is for real. But ha ha! It’s all over the ‘Net.

English 44A, SMU
Creative Writing
Professor Miller In-class Assignment for Wednesday:
One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The
partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to
the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on
back and forth. Remember to reread what has been written each time in
order to keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a
conclusion has been reached.

——————————————————————————–
At first, Laurie couldn’t decide which kind of tea she wanted. The
chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now
reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he
liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind
off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him
too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the
question.

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now
in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the
neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had
spent one sweaty night over a year ago. “A.S. Harris to Geostation 17,” he
said into his transgalactic communicator. “Polar orbit established. No
sign of resistance so far…” But before he could sign off a bluish
partical beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship’s
cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat
and across the cockpit.

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one
last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever
had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless
hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. “Congress Passes Law
Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel.” Laurie read in her newspaper
one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared
out the window, dreaming of her youth – when the days had passed
unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to
distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things
around her. “Why must one lose one’s innocence to become a woman?” she
pondered wistfully.

Little did she know, but she has less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands
of miles above the city, the Anu’udrian mothership launched the first of
its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the
Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left Earth a
defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to
destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty
the Anu’udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower
to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly
initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the
atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret submarine
headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the
inconceivably massive explosion which vaporized Laurie and 85 million
other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table.
“We can’t allow this! I’m going to veto that treaty! Let’s blow ‘em out of
the sky!”

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My
writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.

Yeah? Well, you’re a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at
writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.

Asshole.

Bitch.

Friday Funnies: Caption Contest Winner

Friday, January 14th, 2011

Dear Diary, Today I stopped time, a first! Love, Clark (Jane Reed)