"If you think it is so easy to be a critic, so difficult to be a poet or a painter or film experimenter, may I suggest you try both? You may discover why there are so few critics, so many poets." – Pauline Kael
Now including books, magazine covers and news headlines! Gosh!
“Come here often?” “You mean my own home? Yes, every evening, you twit. Now shut up and get undressed.”
Yeah, that’s what they’re talking about, all right. Now, pull the other one.
And here I thought I hung them up the spare room!
Fred and Larry were too busy flirting to notice they’d burned the burgers. But Janice would have a few choice words for Fred later that night. Nancy, on the other hand, was all too familiar with Larry’s ways.
Sgt. Salome performing his sultry Dance of the Seven Palms, the number that made him famous throughout the Pacific Theatre.
I couldn’t possibly comment.
Marge wouldn’t have such a contented smile on her puss if she knew Harry was having that dream about sausages again… and that they’re now 25% longer. And the nice marriage counselor assured her it was a phase!
So naturally we’re parading around in our underwear at the crossing, just as we do every September.
That’s a rather personal question, don’t you think?
I daresay. Just who were the Iowa Sate Fair officials hoping would respond to this advertising campaign?
For when you’re all finished sucking your Wiz, trying cock, rimming with chocolate, drinking your Nutt Milk, introducing apples into your big anus and doing whatever it is you do with your Young Asian coc. meat juice.
And that would just be your favorite place, wouldn’t it?
So, why does the Danny Kaye wannabe have that weird grin, and what’s with the camera?
Those two on the right are versatile – they’re in the other picture, pretending they’re bottoms. So there really are no tops. Except the tops the bottoms are wearing. I don’t know who they think they’re fooling with this. Just wait’ll I find that number for the FTC!
If you’re lying like those creeps at American Apparel, I’m not interested. And anyway, I don’t want a top.
Paging Colonel Kong… Colonel Kong, please… Paging Doctor Strangelove… Doctor Strangelove, please…
Subtle as a brick, Funk & Wagnalls.
Move along. Nothing to see here.
I think this is supposed to illustrate comparative anatomy… but surely no one is stupid enough to draw it that way unless they mean something else. I mean, surely!
“Well, hello, sailor!” (Is it just me, or has Gumby gone gay for Moody Rudy?)
Maybe the fundamentalist wackos were right about Disney all along?
Well, that would certainly resuscitate me.
I wouldn’t touch that one with your wiener.
I’m not making this up, you know!
But Preston knew that Big Eddie wanted to grab for it himself. Because Preston was… Man Bait!