Category: Comics

Here are but a few of the amusements you’ll be able to partake in once my vast castle-like residence is built in the near future, most of which will be located in the “Rumpus Room.”

I hope you’re all doing the Monster Mash like some dirty apes, and filling bowl after bowl with eyeball grapes.

Dumping blood on some dud dressed like Elmer Fudd and pulling tricks on some square going as Fred “Ascare.”

Mourning Robert “Ghoul”et in a solemn way, with his records on blast and his face on your mask.

Taking children to task on the streets like a crook, snatching candy outta their bags with the meanest of looks.

Knocking on doors ’til daylight with your face quite a sight, from the JLR to you, have a fright of a night!

I was going to save my landmark 400th post for the special occasion of HALLOWEEN, but who really cares about that number besides me? If you’re wondering why there’s been a moderate dry spell for a couple days, it’s because I was waiting, perched with wild-eyed vigilance. Ain’t I a stinker?

But since I started this blogger page with a silly video (ha, no longer available), I thought I should commemorate it with an even sillier one. This one is tempered just right for the spooky season, though. I give you an episode of Tales from the Darkside entitled “The Milkman Cometh.”

I caught this bowl of squash on TV a few weeks ago, and it’s a real stinker doozy. Still, you’ll be hard pressed, no matter how foul it may be, to not stick around long enough to find out the “shocking” conclusion.

Gasp! As monetary troubles are solved the easy way! (part 1)

Gulp! As Robert Forster solves these compounded problems with alcohol! (part 2)

And then…

Go Home Disappointed! As the Milkman’s identity is revealed!

I noticed a couple more Handre De Jager game paintings that I didn’t see last time I posted about him. These are so ridiculous I couldn’t resist posting more, especially because the first one below is something I think about a lot. As usual, guess the games (and you can buy prints here):

In a fit of tomfoolery, I stupidly smote my sultry ‘stache. This, my friends, is something I currently regret more than anything else. There was this one time in second grade that I flashed my wanger to some Israeli girl and her sister. I did that slick move where you come back from the bathroom with your ding dong hanging out of your zipper and are like “oops!” Whatever, I know you all do it. That was kind of hilarious, actually, even though it was really awkward when they told on me and I got in trouble.

However, I regret this follicle fiasco on a whole different level. Before I raised a blade to it, its newly sentient form spoke to me telepathically: “You can’t win, Joseph. If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine.” Sure enough, as I ran my electric blade across its well-developed exterior, it deflated and disappeared entirely.

But we can rebuild it. We can make it faster and stronger. You, me, all of us will have to pour our hearts into it this time, but it will surely return. I can already hear it whispering to me in the cool Autumn breeze. I’ll see you again, old friend.

R.I.P. Cornelius Cornhusk 2007-2007