All comics by arrandildocompany

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Somewhere in Glasgow...
You come over here, you steal my job and you shag my bird.
You look pretty bogus to me...
Stab!
Yep, I'd say I was better off in Kosovo than Sighthill!

 

Meanwhile...
Mum...
What?
I'm pregnant.

 

Somewhere on Falkland Street...
Hi, my name's Bill Mann! I'm Alasdair's dad!
I find a plate of mushrooms with a sprinkling of paprika very agreeable at about four of the clock!
Will you be voting British National Party on Thursday?
What the hell are you on?

 

Ho hum...
Er...
Um...
You can't have run out of ideas already!!!!!!!!!

 

...
Was that supposed to be funny?

 

At the Gates of Gethsemane...
Er...hi!
Hi.
I used to be in that band, Jesus Jones. You may remember me from our early-'90s hits such as 'Real Real Real' and 'Starting From Scratch'.
Really? Cool!
Can I have your autograph?

 

Back at Gethsemane...
Hmmm... I'm sure I know you from somewhere.
I used to be in that band Jesus Jones. You might recall our early-'90s hits such as 'Real Real Real' and 'Starting From Scratch'.
Oh. Cool.
Yeah.
Er... while you're down there...

 

Meanwhile...
'Real / Real / Re-ee-ee-eal / Do you feeel reeeal / And if so I'd like to know...'
Hey, weren't you that guy out of Jesus Jones?
Nah, that was the other guy. I'm Gary Kemp, ex-Spandau Ballet. You may remember me from such late-'90s hits as 'Philosophy Tutorial 1G.' Or not.

 

At Hyndland Secondary...
Uhhh... haw, Nicky...
What do you want, Des?
Uhhh....there's a woodpigeon in yer garden.
So?
Ah've no seen a woodpigeon in the city fur aboot fifteen year...
And he thinks I'm cuckoo.

 

With just hours to go...
You know what?
What?
I reckon the only thing that could make me vote Tory now is if Ffion Hague gets her tits out.
Way-hey! Keep the Pound, baby!

 

On the election trail...
Hi, I'm Ffion Hague. I trust I can rely on your vote on Thursday?
Hmmm...
Alright. If you show me your pants.
Ach, sigh. Alright.
Way-hey! In Ffion's pants but not run by Ffion's pants!!!

 

At the gynaecologist's...
Doctor, my fanny's sore.
Hmm. Okay. Show me your pants.
Ah yes, I see the problem. Your hymen's still intact.
Oh dear. Is that serious?
Not at all. Come over here a minute...

 

Back at the gynaecologist's...
Here, doctor. I was wondering...
Yes?
How come your practice is in Sighthill anyway?
Believe me, mate. There's a lot of sick fannies around here.

 

The President of the SRC. I mean USA...
Ladies 'n' gentlemen. Ho-Chi-Minge is a big hairy bumstick. Ergo I have declared war on the Viet Cong.
Hot dog! We get to fight the fucking gooks at last!
Hey man, ain't no gook never called me no nigger.
Napalm ya bitch!
Why does everyone always pick on me?

 

Hey Nicky. How come you don't have sex often enough?
You know, with my smouldering good looks, rapier wit and general dynamism, I often wonder that myself.
(The narration thing wasn't working in the first panel. It would have said, 'Meanwhile...')
Perhaps I'll meet some nice wee South-East Asian babe in Sydney.
Ding!
Uh-oh...

 

At the QM...
Hey, I know you from somewhere...
Uh-oh. If this is anything to do with that little Asian gir...
You're that guy who goes to Cheesy Pop every week, drinks ten pints of Carlsberg, does a moronic Bez impression to 'Step On' for a few minutes, then goes to the toilet and pukes his pakora everwhere.
Way-hey! Mad for it!

 

A street corner in Ho-Chi-Minh City...
Me so hawny. Me luv yu long time. Sucky fucky ten dolla. Me so hawnee.
Hur hur. Hey baby. You got any Niger in you? Would you like some?
No way! Your cock's far too big. You'll rip me to shreds.
Look, just lie back and think of Srebrenica...
That doesn't even make any bloody sense. Look, am I supposed to be a Kosovar or a Paki or a Gook or a Chink or what? Why does everyone keep picking on me?!?

 

Somewhere in Dennisdump...
Hmmm...don't I know you from somewhere?
Aye man. The name's Martin Craw. You might remember me from such early-'90s classics as 'Mrs Sharif's Maths Class' and 'If U Like a Lot of Punnies in Ur Schoolbag Join Our Club'. Call me Cart...
On second thoughts, I'd really rather not talk to you at all.

 

That was cheap...
Hi. My name's Mary. I wish to make a formal complaint about the nature of these 'comic' strips.
I mean, y'know, c'mon, it started off slightly racist, which was bad enough, but now it's just outright paedophilia, which is a disgrace. It's a disgrace, I tell you. A disgrace.
Nggghh... shut it, goat-boy. You want me to wank all over you 'n' all?!?

 

Meanwhile...
Say, don't I know you from somewhere?
Say, don't I know you from somewhere?
Sorry, you go first.
I'm the President of the SRC, I mean the USA. Et tu, Brutus?
I'm Ffion Hague's gynaecologist. I also do Nigella Lawson.
Bloody hell... I wish I had your job...

 

Later...
Nigella bleeding Lawson... aw, wow...
Ding!

 

And so...
Hi, I'm Nigella Lawson. Here's my pants. Nice, aren't they. I trust I can rely on your vote today?
You can rely on me alright...
This panel has been censored for reasons of basic human decency. Even I have some standards.

 

Then...
Say, don't I know you from somewhere? I'm Ffion Hague. You must be Nigella Lawson.
Let's show each other our pants.
I really hope no-one other than adolescent males are reading this.
Me too. I just got poked by the President with a light-saber or whatever it was, and I'm a bit raw. I might have to see my gynaecologist about it actually.
Heh heh heh heh heh...

 

And yet...
Hmmm...don't I know you from somewhere?
Aren't you that guy out of Primal Scream?
No, that's Bobby Gillespie. I'm Sian the Gibbon. You may remember me from my mid-'90s recorder hits such as 'Physics Textbook in Eb Minor' and 'Don't Put Your Daughter In The Bin, Mr Cairns'.

 

And so it came to pass...
"So now I'm back / From outer space / I just walked in to find you here / With that look upon your face..."
Ahem. I would like to take this opportunity to explain my abscene from the comic scene over the last couple of weeks. Firstly, I couldn't be bothered. Secondly, everytime I try and log on any...
...where other than the Round Reading Room, for some reason, it always says, '404 File Not Found - The requested file 'style.css' could not be found on this server.' And then I forgot my password...
Er, I hate to interrupt, but you're going away to Sydney for a year next week. Shouldn't you be packing or something instead of making stupid cartoons?

 

The morning after the night before...
Ah, Ffion. Poor, sweet little Ffion. So dignified at the count in Rotherham. By then it was clear you were finished, but you stood firm and held your head high for your husband and your party.
And then at 8.30am outside Central Office... you'd obviously been crying, but you managed to maintain such a graceful, gracious presence. British public life will truly be the worse for your absence.
Go on, show us your pants just one more time...
Misery! Wully's lost his job AND Nicky's off to Sydney! What can a poor girl do?

 

Welcome to Zoo TV, y'all!
Goodbye, Norma Jean. Though I never knew you at all, you had the grace to hold yourself, when those around you crawled.
Goodbye, Cardinal Whingeing. Foot-and-mouth was all your fault.
Goodbye Tony Blair. I hope the backbenchers stand up to you this time.
Tony Blair? Who's he? I'm Bill Mann, Alasdair's dad. I was the BNP candidate for Oldham East, and successfully polled 16%!

 

The morning after etc...
My government pledges to maintain rule with an iron rod, to transfer further powers from Parliament to Millbank, to produce more third-rate clones to fill the backbenches, and to win a third term.
If they don't vote then they can't complain...
Mister Speaker. The Parliamentary Conservative Party will ensure that Mr Clarke is not on the final list of two presented to the whole party, and Mr Portillo will take over from me in due course.
Hullo, I'm Chuck. I can say whatever I want cos I know we're never going to have a sniff of power. That said, I think we all must take heed of the lowest election turnout since the Neolithic Era...
Don't blame me for all this rubbish. I voted Zanu-PF.

 

Are you a fighter or a quitter?!?
Hi! I don't believe I've had the...
Hi! I don't believe I've had the... oh, sorry, you go first.
Micheal Portillo, Kensington & Chelsea, 8,771. Et tu, Brutus?
Peter Mandelson, Hartlepool, 14,571.
Mmm, he seems nice. I wonder if he's a funker or a Quaker...?
Mmm, he seems nice. I wonder if he's sub or dom...?

 

Messrs. Des Snr. & Jnr., at home in Cardonald...
Hey naw, back tae yer seat son. Woodpigi-pigi-messi-messi-messin' son.
Dhhheeeesss! Aw, da! Yer baamy! We're gonnae win the league!
I thought Des really deserved to be in these comics a bit more.
Look, Ah'm no lookin' fur an argument...
Wood pigeons! Wee Des says wood pigeons! Back tae seat! Messi'! Hey Alex, how d'ye dae this bit? Hee hee!
Plus I couldn't think of anything else, and this seemed pretty easy.
Look, Ah'll no tell ye again... uh, 882-1971?
Um, ya, hi. Sorry to bother you, but I just phoned up to look for an argument. I was wondering if perhaps you knew where I could find one?

 

Hi, I'm the Director of Stages!
It's MISTER Guthrie tae you, ya prick!
I did not have sexual relations with Colette Smith.
At one point I am forceably removed by... hey, what are you doing to me?!?
I'm a lazy Nazi. John's too fat. Baikie's a swot. Let's phone Des.
How many Skip? Two Biker? Arride! Tank you very much.
But thankfully I am reinstated after a successful campaign by the 'Daily Tam o' Shanter and Other Idle Banter'!!!
Can we get on with my trial please?!?!?
Hey naw, yer messin', back tae yer seat. Uh... gilty. Cut his dick aff.

 

At the count at Hunter Halls...
And now, finally, here are the results for Nicholas John Mayes, 9904969. And about bloody time too, I might add. Economic and Social History Higher Ordinary... 'BX'. Very good by exemption.
Yeah, alright, I already knew that.
Philosophy 1D: Introduction to Philosophy of Religion. 'B'. Very good.
Ha ha, and on about three hours' work! Good thing I had the answers written on my ankle!
Politics 2. 'B'. Very good.
Phew, that's the one I was worried about. Jolly good. Wonder how old Croutons got on...?

 

Ladies and gen'l'm'n. I'm very pleased to have the services of Andrew Dougan Esq. assisting me on this strip.
Hee hee! Messin'! Back tae seat! Hey, nawnawnawnaw naw naw! I am the true Wee Des!
Baamy son. Messin'. Back tae seat.
Wood-pigi-pigi-pigi! I am the true Son of Des, and what's more I can prove it!
Seat.
Wise guy, huh? Er. Um. Stall, stall...
The easy way to end this strip would be like this.

 

Ah, so.
So. How d'you get on in your exams then?
Not greatly. My GPA is, by my calculations, 11.98. And I haven't done enough credits.
Well, that's the Arts Faculty for you. How d'you think we should end this saga of the two Wee Deses then? Do you reckon the smaller one can prove his Desiness?
I know! The red'n's making less sense than the wee'n', so it must be the TRUE WEE DES!!!!!!!?!!!
And it wouldn't be very Des-like for the 'wee' one actually to be the smaller of the two. Plus this way it fits with the 'Desocracy' strip.
Well, it's been fun. For the other part of this crossover, see strip #23827!

 

Howdy! I couldn't be bothered sending e-mails so I thought I'd write a cartoon instead. Anyway, Howard, Lewis and I had a great time in London. We went round the Eye, and I went to see Madonna!
Not cheap but a lot of fun! (I know Colin etc will slag me, but others will be jealous so I don't care.) Then I had a few days in Kuala Lumpur. Interesting place. More third-world than Singapore.
More of a mess really. But I went up the Petronas Towers (still the world's tallest!) and shopped in Asia's largest mall, amongst other things. I had a pretty good stopover. Then on Friday...
I arrived here in Sydney after a flight that took forever and then got diverted to Melbourne for hours. I'm staying in halls right now, which is fun, I've met lots of nice folk (mostly Americans...
...no Australians yet but the place is full of Scots, of course!) So right now we're trying to find somewhere to live permanently, as we get kicked out on Friday and there's only a few days left...
...until term starts. Anyway, I'm having a great time, it's all an adventure. Will write properly soon. Best wishes, Nicky. Bye!

 

This strip pertains to a meeting in a bar in Chelsea, and is intended for the perusal of Howard and Lewis.
Awh, Oi'm Howahd. Fuh qu.
Mmm, yaa sweetie, phnaar phnaar. My daddy's MCing at the Notting Hill Youth Club tonight. Ya should get in with trainers, if they're white, phnaar. Better go now or there'll be a FUCK-off queue.
Awh, shuuwh. Uhh...
Ya ya ya, my daddy's MPing at Lawds tonight, phnaar, it's a well top night. Better drink up and go now. Oi'm on the guest list, natch, but not tonight, phnaar.
Mmm. Tell me, Tanya, what fragrance is that you're wearing?
'Insincerity' by Nicholas, Lord Scott. Phnaar, phnaar. Now get going, ya scruff, what?

 

A few points for Colin to consider.
Firstly, let me say how much I enjoy almost all of Andy Dougan's strips. However, some of the recent attacks on the popular press and Conservative voters have come across as a touch sanctimonious.
Typical, one might say, of the contempt the middle-class left-liberal intellectual feels for the working man and his common values. I may have to counter them with some anti-SSP strips.
And are you seriously disputing the verdicts of the Jan Dildo and Lockerbie trials?
However, the 'Divine comedy' strip is one of your best - truly inspired - and I challenge you to offend Islam, Judaism, Buddhism and Protestantism to the same degree.
Anyway, keep up the good work.
Thanks for the link too, by the way!

 

Very cheap indeed.
Hey, Des - I was thinking of switching European cars. I've got a Spanish one at the moment but I'm not too sure about it. Perhaps I should get a Renault or a Fiat or something.
Hey naw, back tae yer Seat.

 

This didn't actually happen, if you were wondering.
Ho hum...
She seems nice enough...
E-
If you're thinking about chatting me up then you can fucking well forget it, you ugly prick. One more syllable and I'll fucking mace you, you cunt.

 

Words and music by M. Jagger / K. Richards. PS I'm not really gay.
Welll Ah'm a lowwnsumm schooolboyh... anna juss crept inna townn...
Yess Ah'm ah loowwnsssum schoowhbhoy, annna jus creptina towwn...
Ooooooh, wheh canna git ma cock suck?! Whey canna git ma ass fuckt?! Welllla aaaaaaaain got no munni, but Ah know wheh ta pud id every tahhhmm...
Hmm. Very entertaining, but I doubt it'll help you counter those sexuality rumours... which have dogged you ever since, oddly enough, the night after that Rolling Stones concert...

 

I heard it on the Milton Jones show on Radio Four a while ago.
Here, I went to this mad party last night. Got completely stoned.
Really?
Yeah. I told some Palestinians the West Bank belongs to Israel.
Ah ha ha ha ha ha!
Jesus Christ...

 

I trust you all get the reference in the title?
Hi Bill. I'm Tommy Sheridan. I find an independent socialist Scotland with an internationalist outlook very agreeable at about 2001 on the calendar.
What? Bill? Bill Mann? Who's he? I'm Tony Blair and/or Micheal Denzil Xavier Portaloo!
Er, if you earn above 28k then you're fat-cat scum who should be taxed at a rate of 103% of your gran's life savings. And God save you if you're the Queen...
Wise man he say 'clown-right' very amusing and accurate representation of Ken Clarke, full marks to Croutons. Bill Mann he also say 'That age-old axiom' very wise strip and all.
We don't believe in nations but we want independence now! There's this myth that unions are corrupt and the public sector shouldn't run all industries! A minimum wage of [sorry no pound sign]...
Yeah, well I don't find you very agreeable, but I can take you a bit more seriously because you are actually working-class, unlike every single bloody socialist I've ever met...

 

Words and music by Hoagy Carmicheal.
Sometimes I wonder why I spend the lonely nights / Dreaming of a song / The melody haunts my reverie / And I am once again with you...
When our love was new / And each kiss an inspiration / Ah, but that was long ago, and now my constellation / Is in the stardust of a song...
Beside a garden wall, when stars are bright / You are in my arms / The nightingale tells his fairytale / Of paradise where roses grew...
Though I dream in vain / In my heart it will remain...
My stardust melody...
The memory of love's sweet refrain.

 

Hi, I think I'm either Huw Edwards or Colin McCabe, I'm not sure anymore. Anyway - Alfred, Lord Tennyson; in your opinion, what exactly was going on in that last strip?!?
It little profits that an idle student / By this still screen / Match'd with an aged PC he mets and doles / Unequal cartoons to his savage mates / Who hoard, and sleep, and maybe have a wank later on.
Ill-fucking-uminating.
Well, ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer.

 

Hey naw, I'm Rt Hon Sir Malcolm Rifkind KCMG QC. I lectured Politics at the University of Rhodesia from 1967-1968.
Back tae yer seat, son.
B-b-b-b-but... I lost my seat of Edinburgh Pentlands - which, might I add, I had represented since 1974 - in 1997 and failed to regain it in 2001!
Hey naw! Speak once then move!!!
Well I wouldn't say my record in the House of Commons was as bad as that...

 

Oh dear...
Look, you can call me right-wing and old-fashioned all you like, I just happen to believe that reoffending paedophiles should have their dicks cut off!
Uh-oh...

 

Hmmm... well, I'm guessing you're Kurt Cobain...
And you're Dave Grohl or whatever he's called...
So I suppose that makes you Courtney Love. Huh. How about that.

 

Hmmm... well, I'm guessing you're Kurt Cobain...
And you're Dave Grohl or whatever he's called...
So I suppose that makes you Courtney Love. Huh. What a coincidence.

 

Ach! Fucking jakey stripcreator! It went and crashed the first time so I did the comic again, slightly differently. Little did I know it actually HAD saved it the first time.
It certainly didn't seem like it had at the time. My sincerest fucking apologies. I guess that's what happens when you mess around with foreigners. Anyway, where were we?
Er. Yes. Um. I'm assuming you're Mick Jagger...
!
How come I never use the narration thing anymore?!?
Jaxxx!
Oh dear... have you wet the bed again Alasdair?

 

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