Bizarro is brought to you today by Creative Parenting.
Not long ago my tiny friend, Victor the Boy Genius, suggested some alternate milk fashions akin to the famous milk mustache ads everyone in America has seen in the recent years. I added to them and created this hilariously, humorously, hysterically funny comic. Oh my goodness, the laughs just keep coming. To add to his already terrifyingly overblown ego, I used a picture of him as the model for the cartoon boy in this cartoon. Good lard, I would not want to be around Victor the Boy Genius today. His head would be the size of Omaha. (For my foreign readers, that’s a stunningly beautiful city and a MAJOR tourist attraction in the middle of the United States somewhere.)
Just for the record, I do not “got milk,” and haven’t had a drop of the stuff in over a decade. I’m of the opinion that cow’s milk is not a healthy thing for humans to consume, certainly not past infancy, and is the product of a horrendously cruel industry that impregnates cows, steals their babies from them and sells them to people who lock them in crates and slaughter them for veal, not to mention the mothers themselves being slaughtered once they are “spent”. Sorry for the soapbox but I’m not a person who tolerates cruelty to animals for the sake of a few minutes of flavor. I am, however, a person who uses dairy products for cartoons.
One of my friends who is smart and funny and normally gets all my stuff didn’t get this next cartoon. There’s nothing much to “get” here, just that when the doctor looks at Tom’s foot, he sees “little piggies,” (as in, this little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home…) and mentions it to him as if it were a disease. Is that not funny? I thought it was but I’m no expert.
Ever seen people practicing Tai Chi in the park? If not in person, perhaps you’ve seen it on TV. There’s a lot of that kind of thing going on in California. No disrespect to the tradition intended, but it is a bit amusing to see someone defending them self against an imaginary attacker in slow motion. Here, the same principle is applied to jumping rope.
My last submission today is about a rhino who got a nose job. If you didn’t know, the art of messing with someone’s nose to make it look different is called “rhino plasty.” (Unless you’re doing it without concern to the nose owner’s health, then it’s called “violence.”) To my ear, rhino plasty is such a strange term. Before I ever heard the term, I actually had rhino plasty; I jumped into a swimming pool when I was 16, hit the bottom with my face, and smashed my nose so flat against my face that the emergency room docs wouldn’t touch me and called in a plastic surgeon to make it look like a nose again. Some would argue that I should have gotten my money back.