Take Thee to Proctology

Take Thee to Proctology comic
Stan: Please! Stan: Get these leeches out of me. Humphry: I wouldn't be caught dead elbows deep in a hippo's rectum. Stan: Then get me to a proctologist. Humphry: I doubt their colonic gear can handle your heft. Mo: I've got it. Mo: To the clown car. [[pointing while running]] [[Outside the gated fence of a mansion, next to clown car]] [[Smoodge in night-vision goggles]] Mo: Alright, Smoodge, head for that bathroom window. Once you're in, you'll know what to do. [[holding walkie-talkie]] Mo: Humphry, follow me to the front door. We're running interference. [[Humphry juggling on a unicycle. Mo being a mime. Rich owner looking at them with the front door open. Stan butt and legs sticking out a window]] Narrator: An hour later. [[Same rich man talking to his wife]] Owner: Penelope? Owner: Darling? Owner: Kindly explain to me how it is that a colony of leeches has made its into way our bidet?

2/2/11 12:10AM

Originally, I was going to blog about my pro-bidet stance, at least in concept, for I’ve never actually used one. The pitch was so good, however, that it seemed wasteful not to save it for its own comic. So there’s something to look forward to.

Will’s vision of the fop’s mansion competes with the ugliest out there, and considering the work of Tiger Woods and Mike Tyson, that’s saying something. It’s a little convenient that there’s a enormous curtainless window looking into a first floor bathroom, isn’t it? Our resident millionaire likes to show off when he struts around town AND when he poops.



2/2/11 1:20PM

Stannislav is now leech-free, and just in time for Valentines day. If you enjoyed his Christmas well-wishing, then be prepared to be charmed once again.

In other news, Dave pointed out to me that it’s our alphabet anniversary, Huzzah!



2/2/11 4:47PM

Jesse misspelled Stanislav in my last post, I emailed him the right thing, and he screwed up. He refuses to change it.



2/2/11 4:55PM

I scoff at this accusation. I cut and paste his posts as is from his emails, and I don’t read them until they’re online. I’d be more than willing to show anyone and everyone the original message as proof of his glaring inability to spell his own character’s names. What’s worse is that it’s also the name of his grandfather, so he can’t even honor his dearly department family with correctness. I’d consider being compassionate by occasionally editing such obvious mistakes, but the asshole refuses to start working on our valentines day strips with me. Enjoy your karma bomb, bitch.



2/4/11 12:14AM

I think by now we’ve all realized that the true recipient of the “karma bomb” is Jesse. Either he meant to say “dearly departed family,” or he thinks my great-grandfather is a department store mannequin. In either case, he made a much graver mistake than adding an extra ‘n’.