Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Ichabod Crane They Ain't...

Something is missing, methinks...

Oh yeah, that's right: A general sense of headlessnes.

And fire. Headless Huskie's Jack o' Lantern head had better be flaming, or it'd best go home.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009


Heathcliff's new neighbors' definition of "best costumes" is a loose one, obviously.

Friday, October 23, 2009

So many bodily appendages missing. So many 1930's prisoners wondering where their uniforms went. So many clones being pumped out by the FBI who are prone to doing the exact same thing at the exact same time. So much pain.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

The guy inside the fish market is, as you may have noticed, talking to nobody.

Also, Heathcliff is a rather poor salesperson. He's the one who steals fish. Why sell insurance against that act if he's the perpetrator.

Somebody needs to explain insurance to Mr. Gallagher.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Mrs. Nutmeg is a ghost, and the Nutmeg residence may be the most poorly decorated in all of New York. Green walls and brown couches. Ghostly Mrs. Nutmeg couldn't even bother to push one of them up against the wall.

Heathcliff's smoking jacket is pretty pimp, though.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Comics like the one above are the reason I don't update daily anymore.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Monday, August 31, 2009

Heathcliff, explained.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Heathcliff is airing himself out after intercourse. Mr. Nutmeg, no stranger to Heathcliff's sexual deviancy, is used to the smell.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

I can hardly contain my laughter.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

It probably isn't Heathcliff's birthday, but confusion on the part of the singing hot dog, what with the lack of eye holes and the pain from his broken arm.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Snowballing with the umpire is a good way to get ejected from the game.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Circled: Eight unexplainable things.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

21st century, motherfucker!

Friday, August 14, 2009

Heathcliff is down with the modern culture!

(And 30-year-old "humor" from Garfield.)

Thursday, August 13, 2009

If Heathcliff is so satisfied, why does the fishmonger have a look on his face that says "That cat just ate my children?" instead of a used-car salesman grin/thumbs up?

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

This is as brilliant as Heathcliff will ever be, folks.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Not pictured: the pyramid of shaved dogs with bags over their heads, seconds before Heathcliff turns on the hose.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

"But if it did, Joan Rivers would be so fucking wasted!"

Friday, July 31, 2009

Somebody got paid for this. You unemployed artists with pages of comic strip samples out there should be absolutely furious.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Mr. Nutmeg doesn't care if Billy is the only thing stopping the criminal element from hurling his house over the thin line standing between chaos and order - he wants that bastard out of the house, right now goddammit!

Monday, July 20, 2009

Mr. Nutmeg killed Shia LeBeouf, but it's cool, because he eats what he kills.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Heathcliff doesn't respond well to being bathed in Oxy-Clean.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Heathcliff just stole shit.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Heathcliff is sticking to a steady diet of ghost penis. He seems to enjoy it.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Heathcliff's bookie had his eyes popped from their sockets via some off-panel show of force. Heathcliff's reaction isn't to the bookie sprinting away from the dentist's office with his eyes in his hands, but that his dentist thinks that the bookie's eyes are teeth. Heathcliff is in for a long day of public torture.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Heathcliff bet Spike that he could do one better than those strippers in Tijuana. Ping pong ball trick? So 2000-and-late.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Heathcliff fucks everything that moves.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

The force of Heathcliff's snoring is such that it alters the physics of golf balls.

Monday, June 8, 2009

It turns out that the conservatives are right: The recent surge of gay marriage legislation has hurtled at least one boy down the slippery slope that leads from bestiality being a one time only Google search to an unfortunate, horrifying obsession. "Wrong pipe" indeed, Iggy Nutmeg.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

While a good idea in theory, Heathcliff's sardine hatchery did not go over well with Mrs. Nutmeg.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Twitter: It doesn't work like that.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Heathcliff's girlfriend's owner was just telling his mannequin that he likes Heathcliff's meat.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Mrs. Nutmeg, having mistaken the pile of dead rats for decorative pine cones, lets her cat know that she likes the dead-rat-in-bowl more than her new Cat's Ass Glade Plug-in.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Heathcliff has a straw, and it reaches acrooooooooooooss the space-time continuum to 2007, when the milkshake meme was still funny.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Indoor cats: Much more interesting than their log rolling brethren.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Heathcliff, using a camera with an anglerfish-like flash, takes a picture of a garbage can that has recently been used as a toilet by a passing giant. According to Jughead, garbage cans are erotic to male cats. According to me, the cat in the bikini is there so Heathcliff has something to do once his erotic garbage can gives him a boner. According to Marcy's eyes, the pile of giant shit has a boner.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

I'm not even going to point out that this is the exact duplicate of a strip from maybe a week ago, minus a squirl, plus a constipated grimace on the bird. Look at the above. Know that this comic is published in actual, real newspapers. Be astonished.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

I wonder: Is God going to call "Fish out of water!" or are we now openly mocking the rules of marine biology?

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Even the reference to horribly modern technology can't hide that Heathcliff's texting apparatus looks like a small, orange cock.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Dear UPS,

What can brown do for me?

It can make a somewhat benign cartoon cat look like he's hauling a wheelbarrow full of shit to Lord-knows-where for 4thmeal.


Paul Arrand Rodgers

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Heathcliff's blowjobs are not persuasive enough to stop the blue fury of the New York Police Department.

Also, I'm stunned that the cat got proper legs and feet, considering that the side door of Mr. Nutmeg's car closes shut on a tire that's doing its best to look like a droopy breast with a manhole cover squeezing it to death.