Thursday, July 30, 2009


Bizarro is brought to you today by
Dangerous Rodents.

I went to the DMV today because I wanted to waste a couple of hours, be amazed by the idiocy of human bureaucracy, and register a motorcycle I bought recently. I accomplished two of my three goals – the wasting time and idiocy amazement – but I did not get a plate for the bike. I am not surprised, it was only my first visit for this particular undertaking and one can never acheive anything at a New York City DMV in less than two trips. In fact, the sign posted at the waiting area clearly states:

1. A notarized title
1. Proof of insurance
3. Completed forms DTF-802 and MV-82
4. Two forms of current picture I.D.
5. Something you did not bring

Of course, I forgot to bring number 5. I'll try again tomorrow.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Prius vs. Prime Rib

If you are a person concerned with what you can do to help mitigate climate change, read this short article from the Washington Post.

Party On

Today's Bizarro is brought to you by Just Say No.

I was a touch surprised that this cartoon got through the gauntlet of editors-that-be and appeared in newspapers all over the continent without any complaints. (That I know of.) My guess is that the kind of people who would object to this cartoon didn't understand it.

Usually, any reference to illegal "drugs" that is not wholly pro-abstinence gets some heat. In the interest of full disclosure, I am not an avid consumer of recreational drugs, though I've tried a few of the more popular ones. But on principle alone, I am incensed by the absurd notion that alcohol in moderation is acceptable but natural substances like hemp and psilocybin mushrooms are "of the devil."

What started with greedy capitalists wanting to ban natural substances they could not sell to the public so that they could make more money off of booze and nicotine (and paper made of wood, and cloth made of cotton instead of hemp) has received such a PR snowjob that most Americans still believe they should be illegal. Even people who have smoked pot and eaten mushrooms continue to lobby for their criminalization. How many of you learned in school that George Washington was a hemp farmer and believed it was the crop that the United States should build its economy on? That's my point, neither did I.

The reason these substances are associated with darkness and evil is because they are illegal and are sold by criminals. Marijuana is no more of a gateway to death by heroin overdose than Cheetos is to murder. (Statistics show that 99.8% of all convicted murderers have eaten Cheetos at some point in their life, many are even "addicted" to them.)

I'd love to see our society grow up, but I'm not holding my breath.

NOTE: To my mind there is a HUGE difference between natural substances like pot and mushrooms and manmade chemicals like acid, meth, XTC, etc. One can argue the logic of keeping those illegal or not, but my point here is that plants don't belong in the same category as those.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009


Bizarro is brought to you today by Want To See My Spleen?

Near the top of my list of favorite things to do each day is climbing into bed at night and reading. (Other items on the list: pointing at rainbows, teaching my cat Tai Chi, running through crowded subways shouting "Grey's Anatomy is FAKE!")

I sometimes wonder if my bed looks forward to our time together as much as I do. Is it a willing participant in my nightly slumber? Does it sleep when I sleep or does it sleep during the day and lie awake all night wishing I'd get the hell off of it? And how does it feel about being used for sex?

Does the memory foam really remember me? If so, does it also remember my cats? If someone uses a memory foam mattress to cheat on their spouse, will it ever forget? When the mattress gets old, does it remember who slept on it thirty years ago but not who used it last night?

After all that musing, I'm embarrassed to say that I can't remember if my mattress is memory foam or not.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Whap Goes the Weasel

Bizarro today is brought to you by Carnivorous Cabbage.

One more cartoon from my friend and colleague, Wayno of Pittsburgh. I like his gags and have featured a small handful in Bizarro over the past few months, with his permission, of course.

I like the contradictory image of a guy using a "carrot on a stick," not to entice, but to intimidate. If you want to see more of what Wayno has been up to, he has asked me to direct you to his FacialBook page.

In other news, a reader in Scandinavia has permanently scarred his body with one of my bits of artwork and I wish to thank him for sending the photos below. I am always honored when this happens, and would like to publicly state here and now that anyone who indelibly disfigures their body with artwork from Bizarro will get a personal sympathy card from yours truly. Other, more egoistic cartoonists might offer currency, jewels, or merchandise, but I am a humble man.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Eating Ourselves

(To make the cartoon big, click on the seagull's left knee)

Bizarro is brought to you today by Geriatric Mouse Voice.

Judging by the emails I got last week, this cartoon was very popular with environmentally conscious readers. Destruction of ocean life is far worse than most people realize because it is hidden under the surface. It's hard to get good photos of all that is missing from the sea. Most experts estimate that 90% of all large ocean life has been decimated in the past 100 years. Red Lobster All-You-Can-Eat night, anyone?

And judging by some emails I've gotten recently, there are a number of readers who think I hate fat people and think they are fair game for ridicule. My point is not that fat people are "funny" or "bad," but that human selfishness is ruining the planet, with Americans firmly in the lead. I know it is hard to resist food, I've battled it myself, we all have. And we're not the only species prone to this, we've all seen what happens to dogs when too much food is made available. For millions of years, humans couldn't be certain when their next meal would be, so our genes evolved to tell us to eat all that is available, especially the fatty stuff. It could mean the difference between making it through the winter and winding up as a frozen skeleton. But for most of us in developed nations, those days are gone.

Food has only been cheap and plentiful for our species for a relatively short time, so our bodies haven't had time to evolve messages that stop us from eating too much. My message isn't "let's all make fun of fat folks," my message is "wake up and smell the devastation to our bodies, our earth, and our fellow non-human inhabitants." I don't kid myself into thinking that this will ever change, but I feel compelled to comment on it.

On a lighter note, here's a silly cartoon about a clown.

Friday, July 24, 2009

Total Pigs

Today's Bizarro is brought to you by the Total Car.

A few years before I adopted a vegan diet, I stopped eating pigs because I read about how intelligent they are and how badly they suffer on factory farms, not to mention slaughterhouses. I later came to understand how all those critters I was eating were intelligent in their way and suffering at the whims of my taste buds, so I became vegan.

It's funny to me now that I used "intelligence" as a guide to whether or not a being deserved to be tortured and murdered. If that were true across the board, I can think of any number of people I've known who could be caged and butchered and sold for 99¢ a handful. "I'll have a Ricky sandwich and an order of Debbie nuggets, please."

Most people don't think that way of other species, I know. I didn't until I did, so I'm not judgmental about those who eat meat. I feel strongly about it, but I don't think that people who eat animal products are "bad" per se.

Pigs are really cool animals. I've gotten to know a bunch of them at Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary and they're really fascinating. They're smarter than dogs, big, ugly, affectionate and full of personality. You do have to be careful to follow a few simple rules when you're visiting them, however. I saw one frantically rooting and snorting at a woman's butt one time, almost knocking her down, and sending her screaming from the pig yard. Turns out she had an apple core in her back pocket. No one got hurt, but she almost lost the seat of her pants.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Bunny Blues

Bizarro is brought to you today by Rodents To Be Pitied.

When I was young, I never bought the idea that people in animal costumes were actually the character they were pretending to be. I sensed they were regular people in giant costumes and was appropriately frightened of them. My mother would take us to get our picture taken with the Easter Bunny and I'd cry.

This cartoon isn't about the Easter Bunny, but it goes to a pretty strange place with no apparent explanation. I like this kind of humor, that which portrays an extraordinary moment in time not easily explained. Fans of this sort of thing don't need an explanation, it's just funny that this poor sap is in a bunny costume and talking about his hard luck and country western songs. Others with more literal minds, may think the drunken bum is imagining it. That's fine, too.

The real answer is that the upside-down bird under the bench is the world's foremost avifaunal performance artist and he has orchestrated the scene for the benefit of passers by.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Home is Where the Heart Is

Bizarro is brought to you today by The Secret To Life.

It was 1981 and I had just called the bass player in our band to find out where he lived. I needed to deliver something to him like a piece of electronics, or a packet of illegal substance, or a book I'd borrowed, or a blimp mooring tower, I can't remember now. He lived in a huge old house that had been turned into a multi-family dwelling. He told me the address, and said to go up to the porch, through the second door from the right, up the stairs, and to knock on the second door on the left.

Being a bass player, he lived in a fairly rough neighborhood and though I was a little on guard, I did not want to show any apprehension. So following his instructions carefully I found the house, walked up to the porch with confidence, burst through the second door from the right and walked in briskly expecting to find stairs up which I would clamor.

What I found instead was a large Mexican family of around a dozen people, watching television in their living room. I froze in my tracks, they snapped their heads toward me and froze, and we all looked at each other with equal surprise for several seconds, searing an image in my brain that has not faded a single pixel even to this day. Portrait of the Ortega Family at Home, 1981, oil on canvas, 40'x60'.

Lurching back to consciousness, I backed out, mumbling something like "sorry, wrong door, sorry, sorry," and scrambled back off the porch.

Looking back at the house, I was a bit afraid to choose another door, there were four along the length of the porch. Who knows what might be behind door number two – a tiger? an illegal dogfighting ring? Richard Simmons slapping a bellhop around?

I crept back up to the house, knocked on another door and listened, heard nothing and gingerly tried the knob. It opened, and there was a stairway inside. I found my friend's apartment and told him what had happened with the family downstairs. He smirked and said, "you're lucky they didn't kill you. I think they're drug dealers."

Thus ended my exceptionally brief career as an unwitting DEA agent. I'm glad I wasn't killed in the line of a duty I had no idea I was performing. I don't think you get a pension for that.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Courage Under Fire

Bizarro is brought to you today by the Second Amendment.

This gag was written by my friend and colleague, Wayno, a fine cartoonist in his own right. He enjoys seeing his ideas in Bizarro from time to time and I enjoy drawing them up. For more of Wayno's work, visit this here place.

Or go to Facebook and look for Wayno Illustration.

Speaking of Facebook, to any of you who have sent me something through that site, I apologize for how long it takes me to respond. I only check the site about once a month and click through requests and stuff as quickly as possible. I often don't have time to answer the comments and notes and things, I hope you will forgive me. Here at Bizarro International Headquarters there is too much for one person to do in a day and I can't afford an assistant. Thanks for understanding, you're a peach.

Exciting Update!

This post is brought to you by
Sheer Ego.

Yes, I am aware it is crass to brag. But when things like this happen, I get all giggly and have to share my elation. Check out Merl Reagle's Crossword puzzle from a few days ago. Now check out the yellow highlighted parts. (Click the puzzle to make it larger)


How did a lowly cartoonist without a single magazine cover to his name or even an official fan club make his way into a crossword puzzle? I don't know either, but however he did it, he is thrilled.

You see, cartoonists labor in obscurity for the most part. I've never been (and likely never will be) as famous as Gary Larson, or Garry Trudeau, or Jim Davis, or Charles Schulz. I do what I do and I make a living and I'm happy with that, but every now and then a little rainbow from the pantheon like this crossword puzzle drops into my lap and it's a real kick. It doesn't mean I have "arrived," but it does mean that at least Merl Reagle thinks my name is well known enough to warrant making his readers call up Wikipedia on their computers.

A couple of years ago I was a question on Jeopardy! and it was the highlight of my life. Some people strive for Pulitzers, Oscars, or Nobel Prizes. All I want is to be a puzzle clue every couple of years. That's not so much, is it?

NOTE: Thanks to all the readers who emailed me about this and to Dimension Skipper, who added a link to the above image to his/her comment on this blog. As you can see in his comment (on the previous cartoon) his verification word for posting his comment was "fredness." My dad's name is Fred, which means that I, myself, am the result of an act of fredness.

Monday, July 20, 2009


Bizarro has been brought to you today by When Your Phone Rings You Will Think You A Chicken.

This cartoon is not about hypnotism per se, but I'd like to say a few words about the subject.

I've been to various therapists from time to time over the years – not constantly but on an as-needed basis – but I've never had one that wanted to hypnotize me. And I've been to one of those hypnotism nightclub acts before, but have never been onstage. So speaking as a person who has no experience with hypnotism whatsoever and hasn't even read anything about it, let me expound on its applications and limitations.

I think hypnotism is probably useful in a CSI:Miami situation, like when the person who witnesses a crime without realizing it and is trying desperately to remember the license number of the car that drove away with the ambassador's kidnapped granddaughter in the trunk. And it's probably also useful for quitting smoking and overcoming anxiety, stuff like that, and for tricking someone into becoming your crime zombie and robbing banks for you then forgetting they ever did it.

But I strongly suspect that the humorous nightclub routines are all about people who want to perform but need an excuse for being a ham. I don't believe for a minute that the insurance salesman's wife really thinks she's at the beach on a hot day when she peels off her dress and parades around in her bra and undies. I'd say it's a lot more likely that she's bored out of her mind raising those three brats of his and doing his laundry and regrets not having become and exotic dancer at a truck stop honkytonk.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Fairy Tales

(Engorge this cartoon with 60% more biggerness by clicking the prince.)

Today's episode of Bizarro is brought to you by What Is This?

When I was a teenager, I liked me some M.C.Escher, as most kids my age did. I still appreciate his work, but for teens he's like the rockstar of graphic artists. The words "Dude, he must have been trippin'," have been uttered myriad times in reference to his images.

I can tell you from an artist's perspective that he almost certainly was not "trippin" or he would not have been able to achieve the level of detail, realism, and accuracy that he is famous for. He was, however, probably socially retarded. Most people who achieve such precision do so by locking themselves in their room for decades and obsessing over their work. This often leads to unease in situations in which one would be required to interact with humans.

If you were to transport yourself back in time to Escher's studio while he was working on one of his famous future blacklight posters, and you were to express your admiration and ask him a deep question about his concepts and philosphy, he would likely say something like, "I enjoy crackers."

Or maybe I'm totally wrong and he'd say, "Dude, wanna get dosed?"

Friday, July 17, 2009

Butt Darling...

Berzarro is branged to you terday by Rusponsble Dranking.

Not only can I not believe those aren't buttocks, I can't believe that not a single editor from any of my client papers objected to this cartoon or asked for a replacement. That I know of.

It does my heart good to see that editors are loosening their Victorian standards for the funny pages, giving us all a little more room to be "funny." (Not that it helps most of the time.)

I know that the female caboose has always been a source of fascination for men – it's biology 101 – but it is interesting that in recent years the MONDO BOOTY has come into style so much in popular culture. When I was in my teens and twenties, in the late 1900s, women were concerned with keeping their buttocks shapely, but smallish. Nowadays, with the popularity of women like Kim Kardashian and J-Lo, the epitome of ass fashion seems to be expanding. It's all in the eye of the beholder.

Body styles go in and out of fashion like anything else. I hope mine comes into style before I'm too old to use it.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Darkness and Despair

Bizarro is brought to you today by Crappy Internet.

I've been without Internet and Cable TV for two days, living in the dark ages like Attila the Hun. I sat in damp darkness eating bugs, totally out of touch with the world, no way to find out what's going on, no way to find out what "Weeds'" Nancy Botwin's latest kerfuffle was, and worst of all, kept away from YOU, by beloved blog friends.

I'm back now and can't believe all I've missed. Republicans have aired a TV commercial linking Sotomayor with Puerto Rican terrorists and infamous unrepentant domestic terrorist, William Ayers. WHAT?!!

Okay, that was about all I missed, I think. I'm back now, until the tiny plastic box bulging with wires and rubber bands and globs of hot glue that services my entire neighborhood in Brooklyn with cable and Internet is bumped by a squirrel again. Keep your cyber-fingers crossed.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Serving Pervs

Bizarro is brought to you today by Nine Nekked Men.

This cartoon appeals to me not because I think that transvestites are perverts – what do I care what somebody wears?– but because it sort of represents the hypocrisy we've seen in the news lately.

Once again, politicians who had formerly been outspoken and very "Jesusy" about others for cheating on their wives have been caught cheating on their wives. A politician who was turned down for a federal judgeship by a Senate judiciary committee years ago for being a racist, is the ranking Republican on the committee reviewing Judge Sotomayor. And he is, of course, accusing her of being racist. Business as usual in Washington.

Back to transvestites, I'd much rather see a man dressed in drag than anyone dressed like this.

NOTE: Before the "what about Bill Clinton?" comments start pouring in, I'm not talking about politicians who cheat, I'm talking about politicians who use their religious beliefs as a cudgel and toss around terms like "family values" like a frisbee. Yes, Bill Clinton and many other Democrats have been cheating scum. The difference to my mind is that they don't whip up the religious right to vote for them by pretending to be otherwise. Just my opinion, not worth a nickle more than you paid for it.

Monday, July 13, 2009


Quick clarification: In the title panel for this past Sunday's cartoon, I made a stupid mistake, which is doubly bad because I made it once before. When I created this panel, I looked up the sign language alphabet to spell out "Bizarro." Evidently, I looked at the wrong sign for "R" and used the one for "S" instead, so my original title panel spelled out "Bizasso," a mistake brought to my attention by several readers back in March when I first used it. I corrected the drawing later and placed the revised version in my files for future use. But like a doofus, I forgot to remove the incorrect version.

Yesterday, I used the incorrect one again, and again it was pointed out to me by readers. Some people never learn.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Personal Hell

(Make the Cartoon BIG by clicking the devil)

This episode of Bizarro is brought to you by Rainy Day Fun.

My version of hell would be to stand in line to audition for a reality TV show. Standing in line for anything for more than ten minutes is grueling, add to that the sort of delusional would-be "stars" that a show like American Idol most certainly attracts and you've got a party only Lucifer could imagine. I have no idea how the show works, but I'm guessing that tens of thousands of people try out each year and the vast majority of them are less talented than my cousin Ricky, who had his accordion taken away by the local city council.

Strange Week

Bizarro is brought to you today by Summer Weather.

I've been getting a lot of emails and blog comments in the last couple of days about the cartoons of July 10 and 11. I drew these five or six weeks ago and I suppose I was having an ambiguous week. Sometimes I get experimental in subject matter, or humor, or color scheme, and even if it doesn't work for everyone, I think it keeps the feature fresh. For me, at least, which I think is important. If I get bored, it will show.

This cartoon about the happy family means nothing more than what it looks like. It's just funny to me. "Let's get started!" doing what? I don't know. What do happy, perfect families do at home at night? I don't know anyone who had one, so I've no experience to draw from.

When I was a child, my own family looked very normal from the outside, the quintessential Ozzy-and-Harriet dreamworld. And even though we ate dinner together every night, then settled in to watch TV, it was not the utopia pictured above.

Night after night, we were forced to watch industrial training films from the linoleum industry over and over again. To make certain we were paying attention, my mother shot live rounds over our heads. Dad watched from a dog cage under the dining room table, barking and panting like a Golden Retriever. One of my sisters was born with gills and lived in an oil drum full of water. Her splashing would spot the TV screen with rainbow dots of magnifying liquid.

Maybe this cartoon was just therapy for me.

REGARDING YESTERDAY'S CARTOON: A few people have complained that suicide isn't funny. I agree, I lost a good friend to suicide. But humor of this kind is a uniquely human practice and serves a valuable purpose for us. To find humor in what scares or horrifies us gives us a psychological edge over the tragedy. This kind of humor has existed in human cultures for as long as we've been writing things down.

Some time ago, I promised a reader I would not picture suicide in my cartoons for the very reason that some of you were offended, and I've kept to that. But I think a cartoon such as this one is so far fetched and the reader is left to wonder/assume what has happened to the woman, that it does not strike the same chord. To me, anyway. One person accused me of being sexist because the cartoon insinuates that all men want when they come home from work is sex from their woman. This cartoon is not about what men want when they come home from work, but that if a man comes home from work and sees his partner's clothing spread seductively in a trail across the floor, 99% of them are going to think of sex. Either she is seducing him, or she has already seduced someone else. It's not insulting, its human nature.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Nude Diving

Bizarro is brought to you today by Moth Lingerie.

I normally blog about my cartoons a week after they have run in the paper, but I've decided to bump this one up in the queue because I've gotten a lot email about it.

The cartoon is meant to be a guy coming home from work and, seeing the trail of clothing, assumes his wife wants to have sex. Instead, she has jumped out the window, presumably to her death.

I didn't realize there would be so many ways to interpret this, but I've heard plenty. Some excerpts:

"Are they his clothes and he can't wait to put them on and then sneak out the window?"

"Is his wife some kind of naked Superwoman?"

"Is his naked wife trying to lure him to the fire escape so he'll be blown up by the TNT on the sofa?"

"There seems to be a syringe on the sofa pillow. Did his wife get high and then jump out the window naked, thinking she could fly?"

More than a few people asked about the firecracker on the sofa pillow wondering if it figured into the joke, a couple thought it was a syringe. If you are among those readers who have never noticed, I hide little symbols like that in virtually all my comics for no good reason. The current list is: Firecracker/dynamite, eyeball, pie, alien, bunny, K2, upside down bird, a man's loafer, a fish tail, a crown, and the exceedingly rare arrow in the back. The number above the signature tells you how many symbols to look for, a la Al Hirschfeld.

That should clear up the mystery. I now return you to a nation mourning the death of Michael Jackson.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Armor vs. Reebok

Today's Bizarro is brought to you be People Puppies.

When I see a movie in which ancient warriors are whacking away at each other with 15 lbs. swords, in heavy armor and skirts and sandals, I always imagine how easy it would be to defeat them if you had a pair of good, modern running shoes and a lightweight sword. While they are struggling in slow motion under the weight of their equipment, just run around behind them and stab them in the ass.

If you're now saying "But Dan, since you're traveling back in time with modern athletic shoes, why not just bring a gun, too?" shut up right now. This is my fantasy, and I want it to be at least a little bit fair. Any ape with a trigger finger can defeat pre-gun opponents if they're wielding a gun. Where's the honor in that?

If you're now saying, "But Dan, where is the honor in any fight against ancient people with whom you have no quarrel? Aren't you just trying to say, 'look how smart I am with my fast modern shoes and lighter weapon? Don't you feel silly now in all that gigantic, macho armor? Who's the tough guy now?' " didn't I just tell you to shut up?

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Twitter and Twits

Bizarro is brought to you today by Gifted Equines.

I don't Twitter yet – or Tweet, or Twit – but I'm told I should. I can't remember anything else ever sweeping the globe as quickly as this thing has. A year ago, I don't know that I'd even heard of Twitter, now I can't watch five minutes of the news without someone mentioning it. As well as millions of average nobodies like you and me, celebs, polititicians, terrorists, and who-knows-who else is Tweeting. Here's a random sample from this morning:

Demi Moore..."Ashton is playing with his Hot Wheels on the living room floor again and some of my lady friends are coming over for bridge soon!"

John McCain..."Okay, I confess, I'm a young guy hired to make McCain look hip. He's sleeping in the back seat of the limo again."

Pope Benedict XVI..."Damn, these masses are long. I get hungry. Thank God I thought to stash some bratwurst and beer in my big tall hat."

Okay, I admit that last one was made up. The pope likely is Tweeting, but I doubt any of them are about bratwurst or beer. More likely, he sends out hourly reminders for people not to use contraception or to let their women get too much authority.

Speaking of which, Sarah Palin has been batting 1000 lately. Man, what a media train wreck she is. Her "Quitters Are Losers And I'm No Loser So I'm Quitting The Governorship" speech led me to create the following image. Hope you like it. If you don't recognize the reference, watch this.

Monday, July 6, 2009

The Devil, You Say?

Bizarro is brought to you today by Pure Evil.

This cartoon resulted in a lot of emails from readers, as I suspected it would. The majority loved the cartoon because they hate Cheney, but a few folks are among the dozen-or-so Americans who still support the Dick and wrote to register their complaints.

Some people just wrote asking what this cartoon means. Apparently, there are a lot of folks who are not familiar with the expression that has become popular with some Christian teens: WWJD? (What Would Jesus Do?)

This slogan is the latest in a couple thousand years of attempts at keeping youngsters out of trouble and away from sex. When you're all worked up and pulling at the buttons of your clothing, you're supposed to ask yourself, "What would Jesus do if He were here in this situation?"

Well, Michael, Jesus wouldn't be in the back seat of his Hyundai on top of Jessica from Algebra class in the first place, He'd be standing on a downtown street corner shouting at passers-by, so you're on your own.

Trying to fight teenage lust with religious guilt is like trying to stay dry in a hurricane with an umbrella. In both cases, it makes more sense to pass out the raincoats and weather the storm.

NOTE: Just for giggles, here's an image I created before the 2004 "elections."

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Dragon Tease

(View this cartoon in LifesizeDragonColor! by clicking the behemoth's eyeballs with your mouse thingy.)

Today's Bizarro is brought to you by Misunderstood Pets.

If you are a regular reader of my humble graphic musings, you will recognize that this is one of the rare occasions on which I have told a story in sequential form. Even more rare is the fact that it is without words, but for one minor exception. More rare still, is that when cut out of the newspaper or printed out of your computer and folded properly, it becomes a picture of Bay Watch's David Hasselhoff balancing on the dome of St. Peter's Basilica in Rome. The addition of a pink Tic Tack in just the right place, makes it looks as though he is nude.

For more about David Hasselhoff and scary reptiles, go here.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Happy and Erect Fourth!

Bizarro is brought to you today by the Phallic Police.

I'm not a doctor, but I saw one on TV. So I feel fully qualified to say that I'll bet 90% of so-called "erectile dysfunction" is caused by poor blood circulation brought on by fat in the viens caused by a crappy diet. We eat garbage and too much of it, then complain because it ruins our bodies, then drug companies design a work-around so you can have your chili cheese fries and boner, too. Until you drop dead, of course.

So instead, let's address Independence Day. I was fortunate to grow up in a less civilized place and time when it was both legal and socially acceptable to hand a grocery bag full of explosives to a child and send him outside to play. My siblings, cousins, friends and I did this each year, blowing up our toys, the local flora, items from the trash, and occasionally each other. Sure, an occasional finger or eye was sacrificed to "independence," but what good is a democracy without some wounded veterans?

As teens we graduated to bottle rocket fights, which entailed making a "gun" by attaching a handle of some kind to a piece of plastic pipe, loading a bottle rocket into the pipe, lighting it, pointing it at your opponent, and laughing as they ducked the airborne incendiary. Large groups of us would go to an industrial park or gravel pit, divide up into two armies and shoot at each other till we ran out of ammo. Casualties were anonymously deposited on their parents' front porch and most people just chalked it up to another teen lost to the cause of freedom.

Now, thanks to the godless, homosexual girlyman liberals, there are laws against explosives inside city limits and children are not allowed to leave the house without safety helmets and proof of insurance. I wonder how we expect to defend our way of life in the future if youngsters are not accustomed to working with explosives.

I never thought I'd live to see this day (with my one good eye.)

Friday, July 3, 2009

Menu of Death

Bizarro is brought to you today by Abstinence.

We all spend at least a little time wondering what certain types of death are like. They say drowning isn't as bad as it sounds because you pass out rather quickly, your brain being unable to open your mouth and take in water. Still sounds terrifying to me. Freezing to death is also said to be merciful because you "just fall asleep." But I hate to be cold. What about all those hours or days of misery before you fall asleep?

Beheading seems quick and almost merciful, but I wonder. How long does your brain stay conscious after separation? It's got to be at least a few seconds, right? Are your last thoughts and sights that of being upside down in a basket? Does your neck hurt? If someone picked your head up really fast and turned it toward your body, would you be able to see it?

The most peaceful death would be an overdose of sleeping pills, I suppose. But I also think I would not mind having my head blown off by surprise. Sounds terrible, I know, but let's say I'm walking down the street, whistling a happy tune, I spot an attractive lady in a short skirt carrying a cute puppy and I smile, then my hat explodes. What do I care?

I have often said that if there is ever a major nuclear attack within 500 miles of me, I want to be at ground zero. I'd much rather go up in a flash of light and be done with it than die slowly of radiation poisoning or spend a couple of years in a basement with god-knows-who, eating god-knows-what, wondering WTF? I would rather die than live in a world like that.

Of course, I feel the same way about a Sarah Palin presidency.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Help a Brother Out?

I'm a regular columnist for VegNews magazine, writing a column in each issue about the humorous side of vegetarianism and veganism called "Plant-Based Piraro." Once each year, the magazine sponsors a vote for readers' favorite this-and-that.

If you want to help a great cause, go to this page and vote for the following two nominees in these two categories:
Best Animal Sanctuary....Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary
Best Column...Plant-Based Piraro (sample article from last year here)

You have to cycle through the categories to find those two, along the way you can vote for whatever you wish, of course, or nothing. Whatever suits you. At the end, they'll ask for your email address and name, if you provide it you'll be entered to win some prizes, but it isn't necessary if you prefer to remain anonymous.

Thanks, kids. You're "phat," "stoopid" and "sick."


Bizarro is brought to you today by
Racist Sexist Sausage.

This cartoon doesn't make literal sense, really, but it amuses me nonetheless. "Nonetheless" is an odd word, created by shoving together three words that people said regularly to make a single word. Other examples are "furthermore," "therefore," and "notwithstanding." Seems kind of random.

Why have we not done this with Iloveyou? Or soanyway? Or yourenotgonnabelievethis, howhaveyoubeen, yourekiddingme, getoffofme, wheresmydamngun, or howmanytimesdoIhavetotellyouIamnotgay?

I don't speak German, but I've heard that language does this a lot.


Wednesday, July 1, 2009

One Man's Pants, Another Man's Pariah

Bizarro is brought to you today by Athletes in Love.

I've long been amazed by baggy pants fashion. When it first began (back in the early nineties?), I laughed and felt secure in my predictions that it would not last very long. Apparently, I'm no Nostradamus.

As open minded as I like to think I am, I cannot even pretend to understand it. First and foremost, it is uncomfortable to have one's pants falling down all the time. At the very least, you've got to constantly hold them up somehow or you'll trip over them, and god forbid you should have to take off running. It is the sole reason belts and suspenders were invented, for instance. So you could run away and have both hands free for waiving frantically in the air. I am reminded of a scene from a movie I saw once where an outhouse was set afire while a person was in mid-business. He burst out of the door at top speed but only made it a few feet before his chin hit the ground.

Apart from the inconvenience of having to monitor your pants falling off is the obvious ludicrousness of it being the "style" to show your underwear. What has for centuries been the cliche nightmare of people the night before a public speaking engagement, is suddenly the height of cool. When did this happen, exactly? Was I out of the country?

I've done a few cartoons over the years about this topic but I'm still not tired of it. Fifteen years after the trend began, guys are still hobbling around New York City like bowlegged penguins, trying to keep their gigantic pants from falling below their knees, so I'm still drawing cartoons about it. But just when I thought I'd seen the most absurd trend my cockamamie species could possibly concoct, I discovered a behavior even more ridiculous: the passing of laws against it. Apparently, some communities are actually fining and jailing people for a fashion. I won't argue that baggy pants and exposed underwear is an eyesore, but verboten by law? What part of the world do we live in again?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm not saying I'm a big fan of really tight pants, either, just so you know.