I’m driving out to Pennsylvania in a few minutes, and my internet situation could be spotty over the holidays, so I’m posting tomorrow’s cartoon today. It’s a Xmas miracle!
This cartoon has created a philosophical dilemma for me. I can’t decide if being molested by a monkey is worse or better than being groped by a human. The diaper seems to counteract the authority of the armband. This is what I’ll be thinking about as I slog westward on I-84 this afternoon.
Next Week: Obama’s Concession Stand
I don’t know who Harry Reid blew to become the Senate Majority Leader, but he must be a fantastic fellator; especially if his BJs are as toothless as his leadership skills.
The millions of dollars given to the Blue Dogs by the health insurance industry should be given to the American people instead. In crisp singles. Then we can use them to apply paper cuts to the nipples and dicks of every politician who is stopping real health care reform (not this health insurance, half-ass bullshit-reform) from happening. They’ll be in pain, but they’ll be fine. Unlike millions of other people, they actually have decent, government-run health insurance.
But the Dems’ shitty meakness and ineffectiveness have got nothing on House and Senate Republicans, who take great pride in being awful. If some pharmaceutical lobbyist gave them a free lunch and said cancer kids’ bald heads could be ground up and turned into boner cream, they’d be blabbing away at how great Merck is for getting their withered, gray, cocks hard and creating jobs at the Cancer Kid Abattoir.
For more about these Blue Dog turds, check out Matt’s cartoon.
Boston area: 3 weeks until beer, jokes, and books. Now with 100% more cartoonists!
Next Week: Alternative Birth Control
Following up on Shannon’s post, it seems like we’re getting closer to Idiocracy much faster than it took Orwell’s work to become realized here in the States. I heard about these sexy espresso huts a month or so ago when some perv had a pot of hot water tossed on him, but I had no idea it was a phenomenon.
But who am I to judge? I often make coffee in my underwear too, and I don’t even get paid.
