Tuesday, March 31, 2009


Strips like this are the reason I stopped updating every day. Mouthless torso-people, shining cats, sexually suggestive hand gestures, a garbage can full of excrement, a garbage can full of semen, a cat whose feet have been replaced by garbage cans full of excrement and semen, and a punchline that doesn't fucking notice that Heathcliff isn't looking down at his Super Saiyan girlfriend. Maybe the fat fuck caught wind of a fried chicken.

Monday, March 30, 2009


To Serve Man wasn't available at the library.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009


Look at the houses in the background and marvel at the use of color in today's fast and furious world of daily newspaper comicing. Three houses in three distinct flavors, ignoring the Law of Neighborhood Singularity, whereby all houses look alike, and the Law of Coloring in the Fucking Lines, whereby professional colorists stop coloring at the line, no matter how jagged, awful, and unclean said line is.

Also, the joke sucks, and Heathcliff's hand is missing.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009


A young father uses the plight of a tomcat to turn his son off of women for the rest of his life. How adorable.

Monday, March 23, 2009


I guess New Yankees Stadium stands for all the corruption and evil in the world of sport. Old Yankees Stadium is as traditional as a tall glass of cool lemonade, sold to you for five cents by some fat kid who isn't as talented as his cat.

Saturday, March 21, 2009


Mr. Nutmeg's neighbor can't believe that Heathcliff's pillow is able to defy the laws of gravity.

OR

Mr. Nutmeg's neighbor is stunned that such a flimsy looking kickstand can support Heathcliff's weight.

OR

Mr. Nutmeg's neighbor is inclined to racist thoughts and can't believe that Mr. Nutmeg isn't the proprietor of a Chinese restaurant.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009


90% of Yogi Berraisms are quoted half correctly.

Saturday, March 14, 2009


Heathcliff was going to do steroids to jack up his numbers, but he signed a contract with the New York Yankees, and the ink in those pens is as magic as Wonder Woman's lasso. He's not there to ask for confession though: Just to beat the priest and call it roid rage.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009


This is shockingly true. Not shockingly true? The revelation that Mr. Nutmeg is a drunk.