All comics by Rippy

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by Rippy
4-29-02
Proffesor Bleery is wandering around the park again in a daze.
OK, proffessor, you're little acid party is over.
OOOOH, look, it 's Archemedes!
Greetings, father of science!
I think you've got the wrong guy. I'm Father Christmas.
Don't worry proffessor, where you're going, you'll meet a lot o' "historical figures"...like Napoleon, f'rinstance.
OOOOH, look, it 's Rene De Carte!

 

by Rippy
4-29-02
After being arrested in the park, for wandering around in a chemically induced state, The Professor has been taken down to police headquaters...
OOOH, look, the Palace of King Menelaus.
That's right professor, they're holding a dinner in your honor.
...and spends the night in lock-up...
Well, I guess I'll mingle until we are seated for dinner.
sheet, dat bitch don't got no idea what I's gonna do to her when I gets out.
...and drifts further away from reality.
So, you're a friend of St. George's, aye?
sheet, you is crazy mutha fuggin' wacked out white boy.

 

by Rippy
4-29-02
His mind in a chemically induced state, The Professor has lost all grip on reality.
First off, I'd like to thank our host, King Menelaus;
and of course all of you who have gathered here tonight to honor me and my life's work.
I see that Tycho Brahe is seated here at the dais tonight. He even polished his nose for the occasion.
And Socrates is here tonight as well. But, understandably, he's not drinking.
In all seriousness, I am deeply touched to be in the company so many great minds.
All the years I had labored in obscurity, conducting experiments, proving my theories, have finally paid off. I THANK YOU!

 

by Rippy
4-30-02
“I can remember back to that day, when I first created...LIFE!”
Ah, yes, my child. Arise!
Father?
“Arise, and fulfill you're DESTINY!”
I must fulfill my destiny.
I must DESTROY!
Suddenly, the Professor "zaps" back into reality.
What the...where the hell am I?
Father, don't leave me...

 

by Rippy
5-01-02
The next morning the Professor has "come down" from his mind-altering trip.
OK, professor, yer daughter bailed you out. You're free to go.
I must apologise, officer. I really don't know what came over me.
Outside.
Oh, honey, it's so good to see you. I promise, this time...Daddy is through with his crazy experiments.
Y'ain't MY daddy...but y'CAN BE for $50. For $100, I'll call ya "Master".
Uh, Dad, I'M like, over HERE, BEHIND you.
"Master" you say?

 

by Rippy
5-21-02
Wow, so your dad was arrested for tripping in the park, and went to jail?
Yeah, and when I bailed him out, he thought this hooker was ME!
Gee, your dad is weird.
It's all those strange experiments he does. He's down in the lab now. I should go and check on him.
A bit later...
Oh, daddy, you promised, NO MORE CRAZY EXPERIMENTS!
I'm sorry, princess, but I just can't help my self.

 

by Rippy
7-30-03
In his latest experiment, Professor Bleery has accidently turned himself into a fly.
This is all I need, a father who's an insect.
Gee, Princess...your mother used to call me that.
Meanwhile, upstairs, back in Princess's bedroom...
Gee, I wonder what's taking her so long down there? I hope the professor is OK. What the...?
Wow, a martian!
Actually, I'm a Vanlingle from the planet Mungo. I'm looking for your father, Professor Bleery. But there's no hurry, if you'd like to engage in some interstellar mating first?

 

by Rippy
7-30-03
Actually, I'm not the professor's daughter. I'm her friend, Sion. But you're kind of cute. I'll make it with you.
Hubba, hubba! I've never been with an earth-girl before. Please be genital - er - I mean gentle. Speaking of genitals, I have three sets of them.
Back in the lab.
Dad's out of control. And I can't look after him if I go upstate to school, this fall. I guess it's City College for me.
Don't worry, Princess. I'll fix this. Now, where did I put the ethyl-chloride?
Oh, yes! Give it to me, Vanny! GIVE ME THAT THIRD ONE! (GULP! SLURP!)
What the hell is that? Sounds like it's coming from upstairs. Sounds like Sion. Could she have found my vibrator? GROSS!

 

by Rippy
7-30-03
And now, a word from our editors.
I know what yer sayin', man. Like, what's up with the wierd title numbering, man? Why are there two part 7s, and no part 8?
It's because he's stoned and spaced out, and I'm an illiterate monkey. Our brains are dazed, too, and our pencils have no erasers. Speaking of spaced out, let's get back to our story.
In a ship, thousands of miles above the Earth.
Any word from that Vanlingle? Has he contacted Professor Bleery, yet?
Nope. He's busy having sex with an earth-girl.
Mikelum it all!! His race thinks about nothing else except getting laid! No wonder the planet Mungo is over-populated!
Would you rather he was having sex with the Professor?

 

by Rippy
6-07-05
I can't believe it's been almost TWO YEARS since the last Professor Bleery strip. Even I can't remeber the last one.
Don't look at me, fatso. I'm just an illiterate monkey. I can't even tell time. I can't believe we're standing in bar, like the start of some bad joke. You wanna buy me a banana daiquiri, big boy?
Back on the spaceship.
Have we really been orbiting this worthless rock for the last two years, waiting for that Vanlingle to contact the Professor?
No, it just feels that way, because of a warp in the space-time continuum. It's only been a matter of minutes.
Well then, where were we?
I was just about to seize command of this vessel from you?

 

by Rippy
6-07-05
Actually, this strip has absolutely nothing to do with sex.
What the…?
Ha ha!
But you clicked the link right away, because you saw the word "sex" in the title, didn't you?
You mean I stripped down to my shorts, and got out the Vaseline for nothing?
That's right, kid.
Actually, this strip is about Hellenic literature.
I'm gonna send this sneaky rat a nasty e-mail.
'Scuse me son, but can you tell me the way to Ithaca?

 

by Rippy
6-07-05
No sex in this comic, either. Fooled y’all again, suckers. And now, it’s Hellenic literature with Homer (Doh!)
Cursed by the god Poseidon, Odysseus sailed the sea on an endless quest to return home.
Eventually, his ship set ground on the shore of this uncharted desert isle: with Gilligan, the Skipper too, the millionaire, and his wife, the movie-star, and the rest.
What the…? Who the…? That don’t look anything like them!
He must be talking about the first season, because he did not refer to us by name, Mary Anne.
It's Greek to me, Professor. This was a stupid strip anyway.

 

by Rippy
6-08-05
Jamal recruits Granny into his "stable".
Yo, my ol' ho! How much you make for me today, my wrinkly ol' biatch?
$50.10
Fitty buck and TEN cent, yo? Dat's plain sad; even fo' a dried up ol' biatch like you!
Sorry, I'll try harder tomorrow.
By da way, who's the wise ass muthafugger who gave you dat dime?
They ALL paid me a dime.

 

by Rippy
6-08-05
Well, there's still no sign of the Professor. I'm guessing he's still stuck being a giant fly.
Hey, what do you know? You're just an illiterate monkey.
Again, with that space ship?
Put that thing away, you jimthome! We have work to do! We must get in touch with Professor Bleery.
You're no fun anymore.
Stop fooling around, and try to raise that incompitant Vanlingle again. And be quick about it.
Sho'nuff, boss. You wants I go and shine yo shoes, too?

 

by Rippy
6-08-05
Yeah, we're still up in space.
Open a channel to that horny Ugeth koufaxer. Tell him to stop jetering around, and get back to his mission.
Roger wilco, Chief.
We should never have allowed Mungo to join the Galactic League.
Mothership to Valingle 69X. Come in 69X.
They're always thinking with their nomars—all three of them. And don't call me "Chief"!
That's right, 69X, the Chief says to zip it up, and get back to work.

 

by Rippy
6-08-05
It's beatnik poetry night on the Leedo Deck of the Pacific Princess.
Skoodlee wah, skoodlee bop. I get all bummed out when I see a cop.
Executive Producer: Aaron Spelling.
Fascisto corporate suit is bringing me down. Ronald McDonald is his errand boy clown.
Welcome aboard. It's Love!
That crazy jazz is like heaven, man. Play it loud! I wanna beat the eardrums of that L7, Captain Gavin MacLeod!

 

by Rippy
6-09-05
It's beatnik poetry night at the office.
Skoodlee wah, skoodlee dee. I know that the boss is out to get me.
A Coke machine will be placed in the employee lounge next week.
Fat cats and beaureucrats get my goat. F.D.A. trying to push poison down my throat.
Now get back to work!
Pencil pushing drones gather around the water cooler. "Two 'bills' to see the Stones? Man, that's a lot of 'moola'!"

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