Dwayne Fontaine Helps the Democrats for a Substantial Fee

dwayne fontaine
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I’m posting this week’s cartoon early since I’ll be out of town today and tomorrow. If you’re near New York City, come to the Attitude 3 signing tonight and say hello. Details are up on Ted Rall’s site.

Dwayne Fontaine appeared previously in this cartoon. I wrote this for a new character, a political consultant douchebag, but the similarities were too obvious. I’m not a fan of recurring characters. I think they’re often used as an excuse to beat the same joke to death. (i.e. every recurring sketch on SNL) Some folks manage to pull it off, but it’s not for me. Dwayne has now moved to the same retirement community as Professor Zeitgeist, the Eavesdropping Avenger, and the Hack Comic Slayer.

The Democrats need to stop navel gazing and start campaigning. A month from now, most people will be busy with summer and not paying attention. Unless gas prices keep going up. Then they’ll be forced to stay home and read the newspaper.

Go Away

And read these comics. But come back. I’m needy.

Matt cooks with a fossilized chef. And it’s not Julia Child.

Apparently Mikhaela doesn’t think segregation is awesome. (It isn’t.)

Masheka helps white people over-represent themselves in colleges.

Ben uses old-timey words to win my old-timey heart.

Jen thinks mercury isn’t delicious. (It is if you think fetal mutations are yummy.)

Tim points out that Americans torture themselves, with gluttony, poor taste, and shamelessness.

August gives those rascally pundits a good ol’ fashioned talking-to.

Ruben Bolling reports on the monster under your bed, in what I imagine is some sort of “metaphor” for the current political situation or perhaps a commentary on monster discrimination in America.

Those Wacky Religions!

Those Wacky Religions
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Hopefully this offends every religion equally, because they’re all stupid. In an attempt to be super-fair, I even had a joke about atheists, but the Atheist Pope (myself) issued a decree that said it wasn’t funny.

For the few Muslims who lack their religion’s famed sense of humor*, that’s Mohammed as the Unknown Comic. Please don’t kill me. I make fun of Jesus way more.

If you weren’t raised by the SuperStation in the eighties, the point of the last joke is that those religions are virtually ignored, just like the Professor and Mary Ann were in the first season credits of Gilligan’s Island. Did I just use a reference in lieu of a punchline? I suck.

*That’s sarcasm.

Oh Lordy

Short Support. Feel free to knock over any short person who uses the word heightist seriously.* I’m only mentioning this site because I want to be on their who’s who list. Coincidentally, I’m the same height as Jimmy Pardo, who mentioned the site on last week’s Never Not Funny.

And if you’re looking for a thoughtless gift for the short man in your life, have you thought about tiny ties? That’s not a hint. In case you forgot, I draw cartoons and not wearing a tie is one of the few perks of the job.

*This doesn’t apply to little people, who have legitimate gripes. Whining guys who are over five feet tall must really piss them off.

Rabbits Died for Your Filthy Sins

Hello Young Lovers As an appendix to Jen’s post about Oingo Boingo, or the authors of the Weird Science theme song to those of you with only a cursory understanding of obscure eighties music, I’d like to bring an even more random band from that era to your attention. Sparks. I mentioned them before, but I’m sure you ignored me, being the self-centered asshole that you are.

Sparks’ latest album, Hello Young Lovers is awesome. Lil’ Beethoven was great, but I’ve listened to this new one about a dozen times this past week. I doubt you have the same tastes as me, but if you do, you should be on top of this album like a mustache on an upper lip.

Sparks deserve more recognition here in America. Every time you listen to Bo Bice instead of Ron and Russell Mael, a tiny piece of my soul dies.

19 Cent Book Bin

19 Cent Book Bin
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This is the twentieth Book Bin I’ve done. That’s a lot. I think I’ve settled on doing these twice a year. It’s frequent enough for the people who enjoy them, but not so repetitive that it bores everyone else.

The only book I have commentary for is Billy Dinkins. I originally wrote that as an instruction manual for the arcane version of dodgeball that I’m pretty sure was only played on the street I grew up on. It involved two hurlers, with everyone else in between them. Random words were called out when the ball was thrown, which would instruct everyone in the middle to jump, catch, or do some other stuff with the ball I can’t remember. Realizing the only person who’d see this cartoon and know what the hell I was talking about is my sister, I went with freeze tag electricity instead. Sorry if “electricity” didn’t exist in your version of freeze tag. What a horrible childhood you must’ve had.

Oh, the State Fair Field Guide reminds me of one more thing about my youth: I didn’t know what funnel cake was until college. I’m sure it existed in New England, but fried dough was a lot more ubiquitous.

Update: I’m stupid! This is the tenth book bin I’ve done. That’s only 4% of every BFW comic that ever existed, including the ones from the shitty years.

Hooray for Boos-Ball!

I’m certainly not the first to make that awful pun, but I apologize for engaging in such low brow linguistic tomfoolery. Cheney’s unwelcome at today’s Nationals game is enough of an excuse for me to end this blog’s baseball hiatus. Well, that and the Red Sox’ franchise record 6-1 start.

So far it looks like I was way off about the 2006 rotation. It seems like it’s in better shape than last year, even if Tubby McPokerhat is on the DL all season. But we’ll see how rosy things look next month when the schedule isn’t quite as packed with garbage teams.

Yes, I know that baseball is meaningless and drains valuable resources from more important things. Yet somehow every spring I become fascinated with watching a bunch of millionaires hit a ball with a stick. However, I’m not giving them any money this year; at least not the Red Sox. It’s cheaper and easier for me to catch a game at Camden Yards, which is 400 miles away.

And Craig, sorry for giving you the “Yawn” in that post I wrote after the Yankees acquired the stripper’s husband.

Xenophobia’s Greatest Hits

Xenophobia's Greatest Hits
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This is my attempt at contributing something to the immigration debate. A war on illegal immigration makes about as much sense as the war on drugs. I think it’s actually more sinister than the war on drugs. Although I believe individuals should be able put whatever they want into their bodies, the war on drugs pretty much only affects douchebags, so I’m really only against it in theory. A war on illegals tears apart hard-working families.

The only way to humanely curb illegal immigration is to punish the shit out of the companies that exploit illegal labor. All this nonsense about jobs Americans don’t want is just code for jobs that pay less than a living wage. Plenty of Americans will gladly shine the shit off a gorilla’s balls if it paid $15 an hour. But the Gorilla Ball Washing corporations only want to pay $6 an hour. So they’ve lobbied their Republican pals to create an underclass of “guest workers” to undermine workers’ rights.

If Americans gobble up all the gorilla ball washing jobs, there will be less incentive for desperate people to risk their lives and freedom to sneak into our fundie-filled freedomtopia. And if more Americans make a living wage, they’ll be less likely to become hate-filled assholes who blame brown people for everything’s that wrong with their miserable shitty lives.

The General said the same thing, but he didn’t mention gorilla balls.

Don’t be angry with the last panel. I love Canada, even though I don’t think Trailer Park Boys is that great. Sure it’s better than most of what’s on TV, but come on. There’s comedy greatness within your frozen nation, yearning to be free. Trailer Park Boys is not it. I give it a B-.