All comics by quodlibet

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by quodlibet
12-02-04
I don't mean this.
What can I get for you?
May I get the spicy chicken fingers, please?
Or this.
I've taken up a career as a backwood cook for lumberjacks. Roasting whole pigs over an open fire, mm mm mm!
But this.
I want your spicy Kajun surprise.
Coming right up.

 

by quodlibet
12-02-04
Which begs the question, why would any sane person voluntarily allow themselves to be butchered and eaten?
To pose a similarly puzzling and related rhetorical question: why would any sane person leave the joys of Stripcreator?
I don't know.
Precisely, man, precisely. Makes perfect sense, doesn't it?

 

by quodlibet
12-02-04
I told you that I would be lifeguarding at a nude beach. Someone was bound to choke sooner or later.
Oh really? How do you explain the screams of 'Fuck me harder! Harder!' she made, hm?
You look so hot in a bikini.
Stop changing the subject! I mean, you screwed her without a condom! Who knows what that bag has!
It's a nude beach. I couldn't just, you know, wear a condom. I'd be breaking the rules.
I can't believe that was the best excuse you could come up with.

 

by quodlibet
12-04-04
Bertie, I hope these words penetrate your weed-and-alcoholic haze. OUT OF THE CLOSET.
Hey, man. I was just...just getting involved with life! Just relax...chill out, man. I'm out of the closet. I'm out, I'm cool, man.
*sniff* *sniff sniff* *gobble gobble*
Well, Watson? Third time lucky, eh?
Why, I...I don't hear a single thing. They're...threy're gone.

 

by quodlibet
12-04-04
*sniff* Hey...what an odd smell. It smells like something rotting.
Watson, my plan has succeeded! One of our nefarious enemies committed suicide this morning! It cracked its neck on the hard snow outside.
I know. Your, um, girlfriend told me. By the way, have you noticed a strange odour in your room?
Come to think of it, there is a faint aroma unlike my usual emanations. I wonder what that could be.
I guess we can try fumigating it. I can't imagine what it might be, either.

 

by quodlibet
12-04-04
Hi. Can I share your bench? My room stinks of dying animals, and the ghosts of dead raccoons haunts my troubled sleep.
Buzz off.
I've tried perfumes and odour-cleaners. My friends ask what's that new cologne I'm using. Nobody wants to sit beside me in class anymore.
I've discovered the source of the odour. It appears you've been walking over a dead carcass for three weeks now.
I'm going to throw up now.

 

by quodlibet
12-04-04
HOOWAH! HOOWAH! Am I great or am I GREAT?!?!
Uh...I take it that the source of the Smell has been found.
Oh YEAH baby, YEAH! It rotted right into the floorboards, and its tail fell off when I tried to pull it out.
Sounds, uh, great.
All we need to do is discard of the evidence! No more noises, no more stinking raccoons! Am I great or am I GREAT? WHOOOOOO! WHOOOOOOO!
Er....yeah.

 

by quodlibet
12-04-04
Incidentally, Watson, I've figured out why that first one committed suicide.
How's that?
Realizing that its beloved partner in life had been killed, the first beast threw itself off the balcony in despair and died.
Sounds...romantic. How are we supposed to disguise the evidence? It's stiffer than a plank and stinks to high hell.
We'll merely disguise it with our rotting kichen refuse. Nobody will notice a difference.
That's true.

 

by quodlibet
12-04-04
Well, Watson, I hope the silence preserves what remains of your tenuous sanity.
Thanks, Sherlock. It means a lot.
Of course, now I'm damned to hell for persecuting innocent creatures to death.
Uh...well. There really wasn't any other way around it, was there, Sherlock?
Well, you could have taken it like a man, instead of whining like a girl, and saved my troubled conscience and Bert's unfortunate penis.
Thanks, Sherlock. I feel infinitely worse now.

 

by quodlibet
12-04-04
Today, I finally received a letter from my erstwhile counterpart at the North Pole. This is what he wrote:
Dear kid,
We've gotten lots of letters from you.
You've been a naughty, rotten, wretched sod. Stop writing.
I hope you burn in hell. Love, Santa.
You know what this means.

 

by quodlibet
12-04-04
Give me one reason why I shouldn't torch you where you stand.
We trees are obviously of Germanic origin and have no association with Santa Claus, or St. Nicholas, or Kris Kringle.
You're associated with Christmas.
Santa Claus inhabits a domain above the tree line. Kid, I'm an innocent pagan custom unrelated to the phenomenon of Kris Kringle.
Here's another unrelated custom at Christmas: the burning of the Yuletide log.
Drat.

 

by quodlibet
12-04-04
I'm approaching the source itself -- that's one of his stooges there.
Hi kiddo! Ho ho ho! Welcome to Santa's domain! I'm Blitzen! What's your name?
We had a Donner party at our house last night. Your associate was scrumptious. But as you're night, I'm inclined to be kind to you.
Instant promotion to the despised and outcast Rudolph.
Shit, kid! Santa won't let me drive when he thinks I'm drunk! Thanks a lot!

 

by quodlibet
12-04-04
Greetings, fellow alien.
Man, I'm so glad you hooked up that wireless network for us.
We can swap ethics assignments, play each other's music....
And watch Bertie's and Queztopocatl's fine collection of anal porn! All 8 gigabytes! Who needs a girlfriend with issues anyways?
I had to reboot the network and erased all the porn.
You bastard.

 

by quodlibet
12-04-04
I heard you deleted our connoisseur's selection of internet porn. Thank goodness the Prince of Porn left his stash of illicit videotapes for us.
Network security must be maintained with rigourous vigilance, or else I might be defeated in Counterstrike.
Yet this transgression must not remain unpunished. I ration you to one square of toilet paper. A day.
One square? Hey, you have no right to ration my, or anybody else's toilet paper in this house!
In the South African army, only one square allowed, and that was luxury. ONE SQUARE!!!
Turning into another devil, he is.

 

by quodlibet
12-04-04
Yo, Gabe.
What? Hey, what are you doing up here? This is Heaven, not Hell! Git!
Gabe, where's your halo? Aren't you angels supposed to have a halo?
Aw, shucks, I was in such a rush to get to work this morning, I must have forgotten it....
Did you really? Or are you out of favour with God Almighty today?
Ah, fuck off.

 

by quodlibet
12-04-04
How many Freudians does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
Um...I don't know.
TWO! One to screw in the lightbulb and one to hold the penis.
Penis?
FUCK! I meant ladder, I meant LADDER!

 

by quodlibet
12-04-04
What do you have to say for yourself this time, mister?
If she'd just swallowed, we wouldn't have gotten into this fix. And Bob's got a big weenie, so I guess he must have choked her too.
What does this have to do with your stupid lifeguarding job on a nudist beach?
I had to give her the Heimlich. With all of that rubbing -- you know -- I must have gotten aroused and slipped inside her without meaning to. You know.
You expect me to believe that lame excuse? Loser.
Come on. It was a nudist beach! I couldn't put a condom on! It would be breaking the rules! And I didn't love her at all! I only screwed her!

 

by quodlibet
12-05-04
Time for a quick tour of your new abode! We keep the dishsoap in the ketchup bottle. Ketchup stays in the milk-bag holder.
Why's that, Quetzocatl?
I'll show you why.
Oh, milkie! More and more and more milkie -- but I won't be selfish. I'll leave three drops in the bag for the next person. Heheheheheh!
That's why.

 

by quodlibet
12-05-04
Hey, you've got a toy on your belt! Does it count your steps? Can I have one?
Silly girl. Of course not! What a useless tool. By the way, you are underage, aren't you?

 

by quodlibet
12-06-04
A tidal wave of iniquitous infidels threatens our way of life. Will you save us?
JOIN THE ARMY!
Peace is our profession.

 

by quodlibet
12-06-04
Five hundred billion dollars and three billion years of research can't possibly be wrong. Study after study after study have confirmed the following fact:
It's good to breathe air.
This special public service announcement was brought to you by the Coalition of Oxygen Breathers, the National Science Administration, and Viewers Like You.

 

by quodlibet
12-06-04
Fact: Each year twelve thousand people are injured while on the toilet. Fact: There is enough water in a toilet bowl to drown a 26-week premature baby.
Oh no! What can we do to avert almost certain disaster?
Yes. Toilets are dangerous and should not be used without extreme caution. The solution:
Honey? I've soiled myself again. Come and change me, lovey-dovey.
This public service announcement was sponsored by the Alliance for Intermittent Self-Catherization, Depends, the Clapper, the Bill and Melissa Gates Foundation for Idiots, and Viewers Like You.

 

by quodlibet
12-06-04
The world's most rampant STD has ravaged the planet with strife, environmental degradation, and widespread poverty. It is also known to cause erectile dysfunction and increased stress levels.
Oh, yeah, baby. Just like that.
Ooooooh! *giggle*
LIFE. The worst scourge known on Planet Earth and beyond.
A public service announcement brought to you by the Coalition for the Sterilization of Human Rabbits, Vasectomy Specialists, the Ultra-Liberal Establishment, and Viewers Like You.

 

by quodlibet
12-06-04
It has come to this broadcaster's attention that numerous false public service announcements have been aired.
These false announcements claim to be sponsored by legitimate corporations and by faithful Viewers Like You. However, they are not to be trusted.
This has been a public service announcement sponsored by FOX, CNN, ABC, TNN, CBS, the Playboy Channel, PBS, Other Letters of the Alphabet, and Viewers Like You.

 

by quodlibet
12-06-04
27 A.D.: Love Thy Neighbour
I wrestled with Satan for forty days and forty nights in the desert. I am Jesus Christ, King of Kings, God's Only Begotten Son, Lamb of the World.
You are our Saviour.
1750 A.D.: The Age of Enlightenment
I wrestled with Satan for forty days and forty nights in the desert. I am Jesus Christ, King of Kings, God's Only Begotten Son, Lamb of the World.
You require a hysterectomy. Come with me, friend, to a place known as Bedlam.
2004 A.D.: The Age of Political Correctness
I wrestled with Satan for forty days and forty nights in the desert. I am Jesus Christ, King of Kings, God's Only Begotten Son, Lamb of the World.
Take this pill. Your neurobiochemistry is dangerously unbalanced. Religion? Ha! Haha! Ha! What a thought!

 

by quodlibet
12-06-04
Hey, my dad's a postal worker.
My dad tests dog food.
That's gross. He eats dog food?
No, I mean, he tests fillings for sausages.
That's still gross.
Worse things exist.

 

by quodlibet
12-06-04
My dad's a postal worker, and if you're looking to get a free ride, buzz off!
That's okay. My dad was a turkey baster.
Your mom's a lesbian? Hahahahahahaha!
Actually she immigrated from Lebanon to Turkey. That's the family joke.

 

by quodlibet
12-07-04
Sixty thousand men die each year from prostate cancer. Millions more are plagued by hemarrhoids, fissures and other problems detectable by a simple test.
I had one.
I feel and look like I just had one.
Still others secretly enjoy these manipulations.
I'd really, really, really like one.
One? Ha ha HA! I'd like two!
Be safe. Have a digital rectal exam by a trained professional at least once a year.
I am one!
Assume the position.

 

by quodlibet
12-07-04
The Association of Proctologists seeks volunteers to be practice subjects for professionals attempting to learn the digital rectal exam.
Volunteers will be "amply renumerated" for their selfless sacrifice for education.
Interested persons are asked to call 1-800-DRE-DUDE to enter a confidential national registry of willing participants.

 

by quodlibet
12-07-04
PUSSY PUSSY PUSSY PUSSY PUSSY!!!

 

by quodlibet
12-09-04
Dude. We've got a party coming up and no idea what to do. We've had keggers and we've had keggers and we've had stoners and even boners.
Diaper party. OBVIOUSLY.
Yeah...dude, sounds great, what's a diaper party?
We all get naked except for diapers. We'll watch hockey and drink beer. And we'll just soil ourselves. It's the ultimate in decadence.
A diaper party.
Dude, what more can you want? Beer, hockey, and my naked body on display.

 

by quodlibet
12-09-04
There's only one thing bigger than my well-developed ego.
My list of devotees and admirers.
What did you think I was going to say?

 

by quodlibet
12-09-04
Let's just get INVOLVED with life!
Oooooh...why don't you show me how?
Hey baby, I like your style. Wanna have a good time?
Oooooh, that sounds like a great idea!
We can talk about us later. Right now, let's go out and get completely smashed.
Take me away, baby!

 

by quodlibet
12-09-04
I wonder how Sherlock does it. Look at them, just like a flock of sheep.
It's just Sherlock. He's the Man. The Man. The MAN! I feel strangely drawn to him....

 

by quodlibet
12-09-04
Do, uh, you, I mean, would you be somewhat interested in --
Buzz off, creep.

 

by quodlibet
12-10-04
There used to be a bear in the basement.
Hey baby, why don't we get cozy by the fireplace? You can rub my furry rug all you want.
Sounds like a plan. I feel like an endangered species.
However, when the occasional female 'visitor' became too fond of him, he was scrapped and replaced with the dogs.
I wonder where Bertie's gone now....
When the dog days ended, the House acquired a new pet. Lithe and strong, he prospered where none else have succeeded. His effluvia was the liquor of the Gods. His name: Thor the Magnificent.

 

by quodlibet
12-11-04
As was traditional, proud Thor's pond was christened with a generous libation of golden urine, personally passed by the males of the House in an inebriated state.
Thor has an unrivalled capacity for survival, in spite of poor hygiene and worse feeding regimens. His liver has withstood large quantities of vodka and rye, like other House members.
He is the sole proud survivor of a large cohort of fellows, who were obviously inferior. Rather like a successful sperm.

 

by quodlibet
12-11-04
Gee, what a disappointment. I'm taller than our Christmas tree this year.
It speaks volumes about the organs of those who brought it in.
Obviously didn't have the balls to chop down a better specimen from public land.
Elementary, Watson. The only advantage is that it'll dry out quicker and provide me with more fuel for the burning fires of my hatred.

 

by quodlibet
12-11-04
Fuck. The television's broken. Again.
You sound upset. It's not even Saturday night. There's no hockey on.
No, but there might be some porno on the French station.
Desperate, huh?

 

by quodlibet
12-11-04
Well, then, let me zap it with my alien ray gun.
What will that do? Why don't I just hit it in the hopes of resettng its circuits?
Same thing, puerile human. Is it working now?
Ohhhh, yeah, baby, now we got the Home Shopping Network dubbed in German. She's fat and ugly but she's got a low-cut top. Uh-huh, baby.

 

by quodlibet
12-11-04
nu clebet iu mîn herze allez an!
Babe, I've no idea what you're saying, but it's foreign, and you're female, and I'm bombed...
Clebet...iu m-m-m-mîn herze sssssssssshhhhh shhhhhhhh
What the fuck? No, baby, don't go...femaleness... Where the fuck is that smell coming from?
Aw, c'mon, I washed two days ago. I don't smell that bad, man, it's not from me....

 

by quodlibet
12-11-04
I hear Bertie ignited the woman on the TV. Literally.
Yeah, that's what Alien told me. There's a nice crater in the living room now.
That fucker. He's repairing the wall next weekend, cosmetic damage or not.
Yeah, his prosthesis won't inflate now, and it'll be a few weeks before his chest fur regrows, but his testosterone factories were miraculously spared.
Maybe this will teach him not to hump and jizz the TV set.
I know. We can't be repainting the walls on a weekly basis.

 

by quodlibet
12-11-04
I heard we got a big donation in today. Did it come with a note?
Well, yes. "I donate these two hundred dollars so that the men of the house may build a gun turret upon the roof to drive away the evil female influence from approaching the house."
That's going into the beer fridge fund.
Yep.

 

by quodlibet
12-11-04
I heard we got another donation today.
Yep.
Can we build a hot tub on the roof yet?
Nope.
Can we rent one?
Nope.

 

by quodlibet
12-11-04
So...how are we doing financially, anyways?
Well, half our income goes to our cook. We lose another whack in heating and electricity bills.
We spend the remainder on maintenance, insurance, the mortgage, cleaning supplies, and toilet paper. Plus a few thousand bucks on booze.
We'll have to cut back on needless toilet paper usage, then. No help for it. Nothing else we can slash, is there?
Nope.

 

by quodlibet
12-11-04
My mom's a bitch.

 

by quodlibet
12-11-04
So, where's this stupid Santa dude?
I demand that you tell me his location!
Your Frosty reception of me will not incline me towards your cause when I have disposed of this troublesome Santa Claus.

 

by quodlibet
12-11-04
Where's Santa? I demand to speak with him immediately!
Ha ha ha ha! Welcome to the North Pole! You'll have to wait your turn, like all the other children here.
You mistake my identity. I am your Galactic Overlord. You will pay deference and tribute to me, worthy of my status.
Ha ha ha ha! What a charming child you are! But you'll have to wait your turn, like all the other children here.
You're a freak.
Ha ha ha ha! You merely envy me, because I am Santa's slave, while you are just as anonymous and pathetic as all the other children here.

 

by quodlibet
12-11-04
So we meet at last, you fat and supercilious twerp.
HO HO HO! And what can I do for you today, young man?
I'd like a detailed rationale for your refusal of my reasonable requests, Santa.
Would you like to sit on my lap and explain these requests to me?
You're a pervert. Are you any relation to Michael Jackson?

 

by quodlibet
12-12-04
As a matter of fact, I would present to the Court of World Opinion that you are nothing more than a red-suited fraud! Can you deny these charges?
Look, kid....
Over the past century, a secret conglomerate has carefully inculcated you into the hearts and minds of the most vulnerable segments of our population -- the children.
Hey, now!
Their slavish devotion to your will forces them to conform to a certain mould. Thus you have accrued power to yourself under the guise of benevolence. ADMIT IT! IT'S TRUE, ISN'T IT?

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