And now the other 3 cartoons I drew for Teddy Station which appear to be exactly what was required. A bear joke? How about :
A woman in Alaska wakes up one morning and sees that she has bear on her roof. She finds a "Bear removal service" in the yellow pages and calls the number. A man turns up with a ladder, a baseball bat, a shotgun and a vicious looking rottweiler.
"So how do you get the bear off my roof?" she asks.
"I use the ladder to get up on the roof and knock the bear off with the baseball bat.When the bear hits the ground the rottweiler is trained to grab hold of his testicles and not let go. The bear is then subdued enough for me to get him into the back of the van."
"What's the shotgun for?" asks the woman.
"Well. If for some reason I should fall off the roof first, shoot the f**king dog!"
Saturday, 29 October 2011
Friday, 28 October 2011
Workin' for the bears
Monday, 24 October 2011
Sketchbook of depression
A wizened old lady walked down a dark street,
With a tatty old jumper and no shoes on her feet.
From round a dark corner a sound did she hear,
So horrid and frightful it filled her with fear.
And out stepped a man with a face that was foul.
"I know you." she said, "You're that Simon Cowell!"
"I'm looking for talent for a new TV show.
You choose red or black, that's how it will go."
"But haven't you done that already, my dear?
You're repeating yourself and that much is clear."
"But this one is different for it'll cost you your life.
Just one wrong answer and I'll make you my wife.
A bride of the undead is what you'll become,
You... and a dancer, my Aunt and a nun!"
"If a vampire you are, with my mirror I'll check...
Ooops! Too late now 'cos you're bitten my neck."
And with that the old lady breathed her last breath
And joined Simon Cowell in a land full of death.
"One thing I must ask as I enjoy this mince pie,
Tell me, dear Simon why're your trousers so high?"
Friday, 21 October 2011
Falling to pieces
It's in old Transalvania that my story takes place.
About a young girl with a horrible face.
With ears that are torn and a nose that is crooked,
Her teeth, they're not real, they're kept in a bucket.
For Sally was made by a mad old professor,
From bits of old bodies he kept in a dresser.
A salesman once called but then never again.
His fingers, now yours, still clutching his pen.
Your legs once belonged to an old German Shepherd,
Not the dog, but the man. Didn't put up much effort.
And so there you sit in a squalled old room,
With thoughts in your head thinking, "What is that tune?"
For was a DJ called Stu who gave you his brain.
The rest of his body got washed down the drain.
You sit there and pick at the stitches that hold you,
Nothing better to do since you're under a curfew.
First a leg then an arm get thrown in the fire,
Then your lower intestines you no longer desire.
And after a while when there isn't much left,
Just a head and a torso still in your old vest.
And so comes the end of a young girl called Sally,
Whose last few remains were found in an alley.
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
The Pumpkin man
Let me tell you a tale as we near Halloween,
That'll curdle your blood and turn milk into cream.
For on a night like this and I'm not taking the piss,
A life is extinguished and goes something like this.
Young David it is that my story's about,
Who'd bought a new car, one with plenty of clout.
So parked in the woods with his girlfriend he sat.
With a grin on his face and her face in his lap.
Now stories abound of a pumpkin-like man,
With hate in eyes and who drove a white van.
He'd drive through the woods with but one obsession.
To kill any young men that have got an erection.
And so we have Dave with his girlfriend, Rebecca,
Kissing and smooching and stroking his pecker.
"Are they real?" asks Dave as he loosens her sweater.
"No. I just had them done. D'ya think they feel better?"
Then out of the blue came a bang on the car,
Just as young Dave was undoing her bra.
He saw through the window the flash of a blade.
Dave realised now that he wouldn't get laid.
But wasn't the Pumpkin Man who took Dave's life.
Was a nutter of a man, for the girl was his wife.
Tuesday, 11 October 2011
Forgot something?
Nearly the end of the flat season and I don't recall posting anything to do with horse racing. My favourite flat horse when I was a little kid was Brigadier Gerard, a brilliant horse who won 15 straight races until beaten by Roberto... a horse named after an Arthur Conan Doyle character beaten by a horse sharing his name with a Brazilian footballer. Nothing dirty about those names... unlike, Barely Legal, Rhythm Method, Golden Shower, Blow Me or (my favourite) Hardawn! I admit I've only got the internet to go by but I HAVE seen video of Hoof Hearted winning. That was priceless!!
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