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sexually suggestive hand gestures, a garbage can full of excrement, a garbage can full of semen, a cat whose feet have been replaced by garbage cans full of excrement and semen, and a punchline that doesn't fucking notice that Heathcliff isn't looking down at his Super Saiyan girlfriend.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
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
Monday, March 23, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Mr. Nutmeg's neighbor can't believe that Heathcliff's pillow is able to defy the laws of gravity.
Mr. Nutmeg's neighbor is stunned that such a flimsy looking kickstand can support Heathcliff's weight.
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
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.