Category Archives: Humor

Comics, cartoons, and funny stuff

For the Librarians

zigguratThanks to Emily Horne and Joey Comeau at A Softer World.

Thank you, Mr. Trudeau!

There are times when Doonesbury hits the mark like nothing else. Life sciences geeks and women everywhere are cheering!

Hooray for Doonesbury!

This is the first of a series of comic strips cartoonist Garry Trudeau planned for this week which deal with the recent spate of anti-abortion ultrasound bills. (Click to enlarge the strip.)

Several newspapers have made plans to run repeat Doonesbury comic strips in lieu of the strips.

“We thought the strips were over the line for the comics pages and won’t be running them,” said Oregonian features editor JoLene Krawczak “We’ll tell readers where they can read them online.”

(Note to newspaper editors: This is not a time to send your readers to other online sources to get what they want, in case you haven’t noticed.)

The more controversial strips, expected to run Tuesday and Thursday, contain the lines “Do your parents know you’re a slut?” (directed at the strip’s protagonist by a “state legislator” after she tell him she’s been using the health clinic’s contraceptive services) and “By the authority invested in me by the GOP base, I thee rape” (announced by the doctor administering the pre-termination trans-vaginal sonogram).

This will be the first time in Doonesbury‘s 42-year history that Trudeau has used the strip to sound off about the abortion debate.

“I chose the topic of compulsory sonograms because it was in the news and because of its relevance to the broader battle over women’s health currently being waged in several states,” Trudeau told The Washington Post.

He continued:

“For some reason, the GOP has chosen 2012 to re-litigate reproductive freedom, an issue that was resolved decades ago. Why [Rick] Santorum, [Rush] Limbaugh et al. thought this would be a good time to declare war on half the electorate, I cannot say. But to ignore it would have been comedy malpractice.”

Sin in the Eye of the Beholder

Thanks to Emily Horne and Joey Comeau at A Softer World.

Gingerbread Souse

When Kid was little we had a television set. (I know it’s un-American, but we haven’t had one for most of his life.) The television shows aimed at children were insipid and he wasn’t yet old enough to appreciate the charms of The West Wing. So, we watched cooking shows – lots of cooking shows. After all, who can appreciate Emeril Lagasse’s obnoxious “BAM” more than a four-year-old?

Today, I introduced him to the charms of Hannah Hart’s “My Drunk Kitchen”. Sure, it’s probably inappropriate viewing for a kid, but he says it beats the crap out of anything he’s seen on The Food Network. Hannah is funny, gay, and a little nuts. We’re both in love with Hannah.


mistletoe.jpegIt was one of those holiday-gathering-slash-game-night things.

We were drinking sweet beverages ladled out of a big bowl, and took turns calling out the answers to Trivial Pursuit questions until we all got restless, and wandered off to the kitchen for another round of snacks.

“No. Really,” Cara was saying. “If I was on ‘Jeopardy’ and the topics were food, shoes, human genetics, and bad date stories, I’d have it in the bag.”

“Right,” said Perry, “you do know a lot about shoes.”

Cara rolled her eyes at me, and slapped Perry’s arm.

“All I’m saying, is outside of work, there’s not much going on these days.”

I looked at the black and white zebra-striped pumps she was wearing. I had noticed earlier that they had a red sole.

“Judging by the vintage Louboutins, I’d say there’s at least one area of your life that’s rockin’ besides work.”

“Thanks for noticing,” she said. “But… hey… how did you know these are Christian Louboutin?”

“By the flash of red – I keep up.”

“You never fail to amaze me,” she said.

“Or me,” Perry said, looking up and down my lanky frame, covered in faded jeans, a starched white shirt, and a grey cashmere vest, and coming to rest on my well-worn Tony Lama boots. “Who would have guessed you were a closet fashion queen?”

“There’s nothing in my closet but clothes. You know that better than anyone, Perry.”

We exchanged the sort of smile that passes between old friends and and even older lovers.

“Well,” Cara said. “It’s that time. I’ve got to get myself home. Alone.”

“I’m glad you were here,” I said. “You brought beauty to an otherwise dull night.”

She flipped her hair back off her shoulder and gave me a coy look and a little drawl, “I’m betting you talk to all the girls that way.”

“Nope. She never talked to me that way,” Perry said. “Not once.”

Cara started for the front door.

I grabbed Perry by the arm. “Come on. I helped you hang the mistletoe in the hallway. Let’s go kiss her goodnight.”

“Together?” Perry said. “Both of us?”

“Hell, yeah,” I said. “She’s hot and it’s the holidays. Let’s have a little fun.”

We followed her to the front hall.

“Can I help you with your coat, Ma’am?” I said in my deepest voice, trying to add a touch of Rhett Butler to my inflection.

“Well, you sure can, you sweet thing,” she said, playing along.

“Can I find your purse for you?” Perry asked.

Cara looked from one of us to the other. “What are you two up to?”

“Nothing really,” I said. “It’s just that I came over early, before the party started, to help Perry hang the mistletoe. She said it was good luck to help put it up, and maybe I’d get lucky and kiss a pretty girl.”

I tried to smile a winning smile.

Cara looked at Perry. “Did you tell her that?”

“You know, standing under the mistletoe almost guarantees you’ll get kissed,” said Perry looking up. “See, there’s a big ball of it above my head right now.”

She reached out and took Cara by the hand, pulling her in closer. “And now it’s right over your head, too.”

Perry kissed Cara gently on the lips.

“Oh, my,” Cara said, feigning surprise.

I tapped Perry on the shoulder. “Excuse me. May I cut in?”

Before she could protest, I wrapped my arms around Cara and began to kiss her lingeringly, showing off a little for Perry.

I stopped when I heard Perry clear her throat. She turned Cara around kissed her again.

Cara came up for air. “Girls, girls. My heck. This is some holiday tradition you’ve got going here.”

She stepped back and smiled a little wickedly.

“Well look at that, now it’s just the two of you under the mistletoe.”

Perry and I looked at each other.

“We couldn’t,” I said.

“We never do,” said Perry.

“But you did,” said Cara.

“It’s been years,” I said. “That was college.”

“We’re buddies,” Perry said.

Cara crossed her arms as though she meant to wait us out. “All in good fun.”

She tapped her zebra-striped toe.

I shrugged and stepped a little closer to Perry and kissed her lightly on the lips and started to turn away.

But Perry surprised me by grabbing my belt and and pulling me back to her. Then, digging her fingers into the back of my cropped hair, she began kissing me for real. As startled as I was, I felt my lips soften and open, as if of their own volition, responding to her still-familiar touch and scent. From somewhere far away, I heard a soft, deep moan. Honestly, I’m not sure if it came from Perry or me. The tip of her tongue began to trace a smooth oval just inside the rim of my lips, and I felt one of her hands slide down to the small of my back, pressing me even closer to her. I let my tongue find hers, and they danced there for a minute.

Then – as suddenly as it started – we broke away, each of us gasping a little.

“Whew. Just like riding a bicycle,” Perry said.

“Yep,” I said, trying to hold on to what was left of my cool.

There was an awkward silence.

“Damn,” said Cara. “Two butch girls like you. Now that was a holiday treat. Thank you. A lady knows when to make an exit, so I’ll leave the two of you alone.” She opened the door and shut it behind her.

Perry and I stood in the hallway, looking at the closed door.

“That was hot,” I said.

“Sure was,” Perry agreed.

“Had a real effect on Cara, didn’t it?”

“Seemed to,” Perry said.

“S0… when do you think she’ll come out of the coat closet?”


Give thanks

… and enjoy your turkey. I’m going to name mine “Snooki”.


This gives me a whole new perspective on proper English gardens.

Vagina Flames from Hell

I didn’t think I’d find anything to top the weird Vagina Bubbles from Hell clip I posted more than a year ago. But now, there are Vagina Flames from Hell. Yes, this is part of a real Japanese erotic horror film, The Big Tits Dragon: Hot Spring Zombies Vs. Strippers. I think Vagina Flames will beat Vagina Bubbles in a possessed crotch roshambo match. Warning: no part of this is safe for work (or lunch, either).


So sweet and funny… this by The Blake Wright who I think of as the Dan Savage of cartooning:

Ellen and Keith Sell Cologne, Sort Of…

Tired of over-blown commercials for over-blown scents, Ellen DeGeneres and Keith Urban made their own send-up:

Yes, Ma’am!

The hottest super-heroes from Comic-Con 2011: Superma’am and Batma’am, part of the Gender Bent Justice League.

Shannon Cottrell of LA Weekly nabbed this picture of Kit Quinn as Superma'am and Tallest Silver as Batma'am. (Why does the bat costume always get me steamed up?)



Thanks to Emily Horne and Joey Comeau at A Softer World.

Should Children Be Taught Math in Schools?

A logical response to the Miss USA contestant video, “Should Evolution Be Taught in Schools?”

Thanks to MacKenzie Fegan for this creation.

(I didn’t mean “creation” as in “creationism,” just “creation” in the general sense of “creation”.)

That’s Vaginal!

I seem to have a theme this morning:

This strange little video is part of a  viral advertising campaign orchestrated by The Richards Group ad agency for their client Summer’s Eve, a maker of various vaginal douches and similar concoctions.

The campaign is part of a rebranding effort that’s been underway since 2010, when Summer’s Eve released an incredibly douche-y ad encouraging working women to cleanse their vaginas before asking for a raise. That ad won a 2010 Tracy Award, a yearly award given to the very worst ads from around the world.

Douches, vaginal cleansers, and “feminine hygiene sprays” are living fossils of an age when women were taught to hate, mistrust, and apologize for, their bodies. Framing it this way, it’s no wonder the damn cat has a male voice.

For goodness sake, love your own kitty. Wash, rinse, and enjoy. That’s all there is to it.

That’s vaginal.

Love Your Vagina

(Thanks to @addycat on Twitter for this!)

For more vagina sing-along, click here, and here’s another tune for your pubic hair, too.

Butch Origins

More great dyke cartoons from Vaïnui de Castelbajac, here.

Not Just for Gays

I couldn’t be happier to make my 700th blog post one with Neil Patrick Harris, my gay man crush! In case you missed the opening of last night’s Tony Awards:

Improve Your Game (NSFW)

Very funny, but neither the video nor the audio are safe for work.

(Thanks to @Angrydyke on Twitter for the tip on this!)

Bargain Away the Gay

(Thanks to Dan Savage for this!)