All comics by burt_reynolds

Profile

 

by burt_reynolds
11-18-03
I die, and Jim Belushi's still alive?

 

by burt_reynolds
11-18-03
I can tell you're thinking about buying that car over there.
puuuuuussy
Actually, I know I'm buying that car. I was thinking about pussy.
Nice.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-18-03
Are you what humans would call lonely?
two hours later...
...yes...

 

by burt_reynolds
11-19-03
Did you read the new Garfield today?
Sir, yes, sir.
That James Garfield, he sure loves his lasagna.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-19-03
Did you read Garfield today?
Can't say I did. Someone stole my paper before I woke up.
That cat loves to nap.
Who doesn't?

 

by burt_reynolds
11-19-03
I say, good chap, did you see today's Garfield?
I did, and I can't say I understood it. I mean, a cat afraid of mice? If you believe that, then it shows the faulty logic behind Campbell's proof for archetypes.
You didn't understand it because your brain is the size of a peanut.
Touche, but your wife has no complaints about the size of my penis.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-19-03
A ghost!!!
Jim Davis, I am the ghost of Rudolph Dirks, creator of the Katzenjammer Kids!!!
Hmmm... Haven't I seen you in The Family Circus?
I... uh... no! I am Rudolph Dirks!
Wait a minute! Did Charles Schultz put you up to this?
Peanuts!

 

by burt_reynolds
11-19-03
What's got two thumbs and loves blowjobs?
This guy!
Hellooooo, sailor...

 

by burt_reynolds
11-19-03
In the Year 2137...
Did you see the comic strip Garfield today? The human named Jon, he cannot get a date with a female!
You are much like him. You cannot get a date either.
I have no genitals.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-19-03
I do say, my good gentleman, did you see today's installment of the Garfield serial?
Oh, yes. There is a cat that loves his black tar opium and buggery.
You're confusing the cat with yourself, are you not?
Yes. Yes, I am.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-19-03
In Hans Gruber's head...
I'm telling you, television set, if you had read Garfield today, the nipple of your boob tube would have gotten hard. Yowza, that cat hates Nermel!
But Mr. Butch, I do not know how to read...
Damn, but literature is the public transportation of the mind's eye, television. How else are you going to know what happens in Penthouse Letters?
Hold me...

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
I have baby now.
47 years later...
...and that be the story of how I was born!
Is that why you're always watching Kung Fu?

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
Did you read Garfield today?
I did, and I wasn't impressed. The punchline was used once before, in Garfield's seventh book, Garfield Sits Around the House. It's a shame Jim Davis is so bereft of original ideas.
How can you remember something so, excuse the French, esoteric?
!!!
Because, my good (crippled) friend, an elephant never forgets!

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
May, 1978
Did you see Garfield today? He ate all Jon's lasagna, then took a nap in the pan.
I did see that. That cat's got some stones on him!
Once I jumped over a birdbath on my bike.
Evel Kneivel, do you ever shut the fuck up?

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
The killer is the stepmother!
Well, that solves that. Thank you, crime-fighting Evel Kneivel!
Time to jump over some P'Zones on my bike.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
The killer is not so much one man, Mr. Butch, but society. Couple an inherited miasma among the working poor with a cultural diaspora sired by gentrification and what you get a powderkeg of...
That's alls I gotta hear. Much love, crime-fighting Evel Knievel!
Time for me to jump over the Paris Hilton sex tape on my bike.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
The killer is trans-fatty acids, and you, my friend, you are the victim.
Ooh, I should get a Mountain Dew to wash down this whipped cream and chocolate cake sandwich...
Time for me to jump over the guy from Smashmouth on my bike.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
Mr. Stradlin, I humbly submit to you that the killer is heavy metal music.
That solution is so 1988, crime-fighting Evel Kneivel. Ka-RANGGGGG!
Time to jump over my Garfield day calender on my bike.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
All evidence points to you killing the deer, Mr. Deer Hunter, what with the hat, the gun, your name...
Can't argue with that logic.
Time to jump over Gordon Jump's gravestone on my bike.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
Yes, you are the killer, Sir Stinks-A-Lot, but the real killer is Big Tobacco. Think about it philosophically: a gun cannot fire itself...
Fan-tastic! Well, if you'll pardon me, a bored suburban high school kid wants to stuff marijuana in my asshole and smoke me in his stepfather's Chevette.
Time for me to jump over the smoking crater that is my marriage with my bike.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
You've gotten too close to the truth, crime-fighting Evel Knievel. You are a private investigator, not a theologian.
There are no killers in this world, only unherded sheep. Who expects to lead a moral life, when God is just an absentee landlord!?
Time to sell his bike on eBay.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
There was no killer, Satan, it was just an elaborate ruse to gain total control over Ann Coulter's soul, leaving dead former senator Strom Thurmond with nothing.
Damn you're good, crime-fighting dead Evel Knievel. I have to give you props.
Time for me to jump over Cerebus on my ghost bike.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
Hello, officer, allow me to introduce myself. I am the ghostly form of crime-fighting Evel Knievel. My current state allows me to solve crimes even better.
For instance, O.J. wasn't the killer, it was Emmitt Smith. Nixon shot Kennedy. And Jack the Ripper was the same guy who really wrote all of Shakespeare's plays!
It's all very fascinating, ghost of crime-fighting Evel Knievel, but no attorney worth a damn is going to allow for a ghost to be put on the stand. Sorry.
Time to scare up some pussy!

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
Oh, it's good to be back in the corporeal world, old friend. Ah, to revel in the five senses, that is truly life. It's not about bills, work, or even crime fighting. What I... wait a minute...
Who took my P'Zone?
Argh, looks like someone absconded with yer booty, matey!

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
No, seriously, have you seen my P'Zone? It was right here when I left this mortal coil!
Argh, my good eye ain't seen nothing, much less fer my bad eye, matey!
This is so not fucking cool. Who takes a dead man's shit? I didn't sleep with John Ritter's wife after he died.
Argh, looks like everytime you want out, they pull you back in, crime fightin' Evel Knievel!

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
I'm looking for my P'Zone, Mr. Butch. You hear anything on the street?
Is that what you call it? A P'Zone? I call mine a baby's arm.
Mr. Butch, no, please. A P'Zone is like a pizza, but folded over.
Or I call it my hangdown. Sometimes my bitch's pacifier. For obvious reasons. Do you call it a P'Zone because your mommy told you to call it that? Like "Hey, stranger! Stay away from my P'Zone!"
You are an invaluable resource, Mr. Butch.
Does the "P" stand from penis or private?

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
Hello, God? It's me, crime-fighting Evel Knievel...
Pardon me, son, if I talk with food in my mouth, but I did create the universe. Now what can I do for you?
Well, I can't find my P'Zone. It was there before I died, but now... Well, what's the word on the street?
I haven't heard a thing. Good luck with finding your P'Zone.
You'd think being omnipotent you'd have heard... wait... why do I smell crappy canned sauce and reheated pepporoni on your breath?
I cooked up a Boboli pizza with Fatty Arbuckle earlier. I swear to me!

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
So let me get this straight... you want me to finding some missing nuts?
Yes, and I suggest you start by looking at the nuts on your chin!
Bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
Later that day....
Now I get it...

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
I say, my good man, did you read that Evel Kneivel strip online? I can't say I understand it.
I have to agree with you on that, top hat.
What did you say did for a living?
I teach postmodern bullshit at the local community college.
Sweet. I major in irony there.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
Well, if it isn't my old nemesis, former Creedence Clearwater Revival frontman and current independent detective John Fogerty.
Funny I should run into you, crime-fighting Evel Knievel, being that I just had my penis inside your wife.
Not much of a detective, are you, Fogerty, or you would have noticed she's a lesbian now. Shouldn't you be screwing your former bandmates out of royalties?
Your lesbian wife was right, Knievel - a magnifying glass won't do the trick. I'll have to call the university and get the electron microscope down here...
That does sound like something my wife would say...

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
You want to hear about the case I'm working on, honey? The murder victim is my heart, and the lead suspect is you.
Shh. I'm writing my blog. Go away.
I still love her.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
Where am I?
This is the year 2701. You've been frozen for more than 700 years. But we need your crime-fighting abilities here in the "future," crime-fighting Evel Knievel.
I've been unfrozen? In the future? That means... that means you've found the cure for a broken heart!
Allright, guys, let's get this popsicle back in the freezer!

 

by burt_reynolds
11-20-03
In the year 2701
Sweet merciful crap, a monkey in a space suit. I'm pretty sure this is how it began, with the monkeys taking over Earth...
I can assure you, my good man, that I have no intention of world domination. I am but your humble assistant, Mr. Jiggles.
Could you stop rubbing your balls?
I really can't.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-21-03
You don't happen to have a time travel machine?
I sure do, in my sleep chambers. I built it myself. See, the trick is, you have to view time as a series of strings, much like a harp, and if you can figure out a way to...
That's top drawer, really. You said it was in your room? Hmm. Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to... uh... drop a deuce...
By all means.
Four hours later.
He's not coming back. Just like dad.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-21-03
Evel Kneivel, P.I., has travelled back to the time he loves, but finds himself face to face with... HIMSELF!
Uh-oh, looks like I've traveled too far back in time, for I am face to face with... MYSELF!
Wow, you know, I am not homosexual, but you are one good looking man.
Once again, not homosexual, but I'd really like to feel you inside me.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-21-03
Evel Kneivel finds himself face to face with... HIMSELF, and HIMSELF feeling man-love for himself
Here's the problem: We are now a paradox, and therefore, cannot exist within the same space. Haven't you read Hawking's essays? Haven't you seen what happens to Ron Silver in Timecop?
You know I have.
Well, by inserting your penis in me, it would actually wreck the space-time continuum...
And to think that Republicans believe homosexuality will only wreck marriage.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-21-03
Well, I think we ought to just part ways here, Newly Homosexual Evel Knievel. It's for the best
I suppose so. I guess we shouldn't destroy the space-time continuum
I'm going to go do some crime fighting, then jump over the Jessica Lynch book on my bike. It's good to be home.
Farewell, crime-fighting Evel Knievel.
My cock is hungry for you.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-21-03
If it isn't my old nemesis, Dr. Autumnbottom. Quite like Rome, all roads lead back to you.
Yes, I do say, crime-fighting Evel Knievel, I had heard you had gone homosexual. Quite. Er.
That wasn't me. That was... well, it's actually hard to explain. It's like... it helps if you knew some of Einstein's more esoteric essays...
Hm, good show, old chum.
Meanwhile, in South Beach...
So you're saying the have parties with foam? Lead the way!

 

by burt_reynolds
11-21-03
You know why I'm here, Autumnbottom.
Can't say I have the foggiest, Knievel.
Tom Selleck's mustache. Hand it over.
Damn he's good.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-21-03
I've always meant to ask you, Autumnbottom, what are you a doctor of, precisely?
I am a doctor of the ancient art of hypnosis!
Man... Selleck's gonna have my ass for this...

 

by burt_reynolds
11-21-03
Special guest star: Tom Selleck
I'm sorry Mr. Selleck, your mustache slipped through my fingers.
That's an odd way to put it, crime-fighting Evel Knievel, but I'm sure you tried your best.
I got hyp-mo-tized...
Whatever. Now where did I leave my Tigers cap?
I'm going to jump over that Tigers cap I found in the parking lot with my bike.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-21-03
I know who kidnapped Otto, and it wasn't the Asian guy. It was you Bettle Bailey. Why did you do it?
It's just that... Sgt. Snorkel keeps questioning my sexuality, and... I'm afraid he knows the truth!
I think I have just the thing for you.
South Beach, Miami
A foam party? This I have to see!

 

by burt_reynolds
11-21-03
Why do you forsake me, Bush administration? I have served in your arm for 40 years. Granted, 39 of those were spent sleeping under a tree or getting beaten up by Sarge... still, why do you hate me?
Foam party at Polly Esther's!
So long, homophobes. Hello chiseled, shaved man-boys!

 

by burt_reynolds
11-21-03
Thanks for coming out today in support of gay rights. I see a lot of faces in the audience today asking "What are we fighting for?
Hey, there's a foam party at Ramrod tonight!
Ah, it's good being openly gay Beetle Bailey.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-21-03
Ladies, allow me to introduce myself. I am Tom Selleck, of and Quigley Down Under fame.
You aren't Tom Selleck. Where's your mustache?
A man is more than a mustache, baby. I'm a good listener, I make some great chocolate fondue...
Whatever, I'm going to find Wilford Brimley and have sex with him.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-21-03
I never realized how cold and lonely this city is without my mustache... No one will even look you in the eye.
It leads me to believe that rather than a man in control of a mustache, I was a mustache in control of a man. Now, I am but an untethered kite, loosed upon the wind...
I'd ask this guy for money, but he obviously has no money, especially royalties from reruns of a popular detective show set in Hawaii.
And I still don't know for sure if Robin Masters and Quivers were the same guy!
Hey, look everybody - it's nobody!

 

by burt_reynolds
11-21-03
Hey, it really is you! It's John Fogerty! You're a independant investigator, now? Wow. Well, have I got a case for you...
Who said anything about me being a independant investigator?
The editors at Rolling Stone. They said "That John Fogerty, talk about a private dick."
Please get out of my office you dumb whore. I want to be left alone.
"Biggest dick in the business," they said. Anyway, my virginity was stolen from me...

 

by burt_reynolds
11-22-03
In the backroom of a Fort Washington, PA, Ramada Inn
Thanks for meeting me, professional assassin. I have a big job for you.
Not a problem, heiress Paris Hilton. Why don't you tell me your problems.
There's this sex tape of me...
Wait, did you say sex tape?
Damn this is hotter than the love scene I had with James Coburn and that husky that got cut out of Snow Dogs

 

by burt_reynolds
11-22-03
So will you take the job, Cuba Gooding, Jr., professional assassin? I need someone killed. I wanted to be a pretend whore, not a real whore.
Calm down, sweet stuff. First off, ya gotta show me the money!
Alright, you really have to stop doing that.
Now you sound like Skeet Ulrich when we were filming Chill Factor.

 

by burt_reynolds
11-24-03
This case is going to be one tough nipple because of all the suspects. You have the arrogant Republicans, talk radio, the underfunded public schools, high school bullies, overbearing parents...
...any one of those, and a host of others, could have been the one who killed your dreams.
And the bitches. Don't forget the bitches.
Actually, no. Their alibi is pretty airtight.

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