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February 26, 2006

The New Yorker Cartoon Anti-Caption Contest #40

Submit the worst possible caption for this week's New Yorker cartoon. Click here for last week's results. Click here for an introduction and "rules" to this contest. Click here for amplification of those rules. Click here for contest index.

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Considering that Anti-Caption contestants tend to jump right to sex even when the cartoon doesn't really suggest it, I'm already dreading this next batch of entries. Please, please, try to be more clever than this:

"Why do I always get the wet spot."

Results after the jump

Remember how I said I wasn't going to reward cheap sex jokes? I lied.

Winner:
"This is not what I had in mind when I wrote on my match.com profile that I liked 'snowballing.' I just meant that I like for guys to ejaculate in my mouth so I can spit it into theirs. This is sick!" —Jason

Finalists:
"Ohhh, it's so easy to judge ME and MY addictions, when you are so hooked on china white you've created this little fantasy world for yourself where cocaine falls down from the heavens. You're the one who's pathetic." —Josh

"In your face, to-do list!" —Slide

Posted by Daniel Radosh

Comments

Okay Phyllis, think. You have a giant crystal ball that only foresees schmaltzy Christmas scenes. How can you make lemonade out of this turd?

"Well, at least you wear protection."

Oh wait, you didn't want a cheap sex joke? Did I come to the right blog? Ok, fine. Um...

"I don't know, you just seem sort of shaken up tonight."

I wish you would take your hat off first.

"Do you have a light?"

"Yeah, yeah, that big, I get it. But you have to admit the whole melting thing is kind of a drawback."

Taking jason's lead, uh, right, not about sex. Ummmmm,

"It's so weird. I figured that being on the 'special holiday episode' of 'Wife Swap' would be so much more festive."

"Don't you know you're not supposed to say 'Merry Christmas' anymore? And also, it's February."

"Yeah, I hate the Winter Olympics too."

"Saint Eligius? That's a stupid name for a hospital."

Humpety hump hump humpity hump hump look at Frosty go. Humpety hump hump humpity hump hump over the hills of snow!

I should really just find my dildo.

It's not you, it's me.

Is that a Gideon's bible?

Well, what do you expect in exchange for a broom and a lump of coal?

Well, that was different.

Don't eat the yellow snow

"John Travolta you are not."

Look who's calling ME frigid.

Oh why do I have to like my men shaken, not stirred.

I told you I'm not a snow blower.

You've got SOME ball.

Seasonal healing...

Okay, so being an editor for the New Yorker has it's draw backs...

I can't believe I got the whole thing up my anus.

Uh... I don't know... see what's on HBO, I guess.

"Honey? Can you put your snow globe away? My parents are going to be here any minute."

"Okay, time's up. That'll be $250."

"I don't think this relationship is working. I need a man with a penis."

"You feel so cheap."

"Well, I wish you wouldn't snow in bed."

"I'm no good for ya Frosty, I'm tellin ya. You're a good guy...a little sappy maybe, but I'll just bring you down. You know it and I know it. You'd better get outta here now, before I beg you not to go. So scram, damn you,SCRAM!"

"This corn-cob pipe doesn't hold very much."

"No, you're frigid."

For the 10,000th time...it wasn't me who bought the damn electric blanket!

Look...if you don't stop this arguing right now...I'm going to put the ashtray a LOT closer to you.

"Boy, I've really hit the SCIDS."

"Look, this is kind of weird for me; I don't usually fuck Methodists."

Predicted real-life winner: "Rudolf just understands me, okay?"

"And I thought I had Body Dysmorphic Disorder!"

"I hate you."

"I can't talk to you anymore. It's like you're in your own little world."

My mouth tastes like coal.

"You know, Heidi, sometimes I think you've got some serious issues."

"I know, I know...I'm trying to quit. God, you've become such a self-righteous prick since you gave up the corncob pipe."

"I'm starting to think this affair with my boss isn't worth it if every time he comes over I'm going to have to drag out that awful snowglobe he gave all the employees for Christmas last year."

"I know you don't like it when I smoke, but I think you're overreacting by crawling into that damn bubble everytime I light up."

"I told you Citizen Kane wouldn't work as a porno."

Yes, I do look a little bit like Sarah Vowell, but you don't look at all like Abraham Lincoln, even with the hat.

"I'm not really sure what I was thinking ... you have no protuberances, no orifices. Sexual congress is impossible with a sphere that has a diameter larger than about three-four inches ... and even then, whoop-dee woo, I'm ridin' a fuckin' sphere, there's something that's going to hit all the pleasure points, yessir ... ain't nothing hotter than pure geometry."

"I don't know just what kind of experience I expected when I checked in to the "+ Bliss" luxury hotel... but this sure as fuck wasn't it."

I mean "heck."

"I can't help it. Everytime we start to get intimate, I hear a harp glissando and then I can't stop thinking of bittersweet childhood memories. It breaks the mood."

"I'm wearing it to bed because I'm lactating, okay? And no, you didn't want to hear that because it's one of those 'female things' all men are squeamish about, although they certainly enjoy women's bodies well enough, dont you? Oh, and by the way, you gather condensation, so it's not like I don't know the feeling of unexpected wetness."

"For the last time, I don't think of you as powerless in the face of your disability, and it's not some king of perverse turn-on. God, why do men always ask that?...Now, do you want a little wipey-wipey before I turn the lights out for you?"

"Has anyone seen my snowglobe?"

"Shut up Frosty. Everyone knows your everything is a clip-on."

"You call me Troi and I'll call you Commander Riker, okay?"

you call me a frigid cunt? and who's fault do you think that is?

Listen, I was drunk and I said you were cute. How that turned into this, I'll never know.

Don't be so smug. It takes more than a big globe to satisfy a woman like me.

The tissue is even on your side of the bed. What the hell kind of sense does that make?

"I'm afraid it doesn't help. Snow globe or no, spending Christmas alone in a gigantic bed is still really depressing."

"I don't know. I'm afraid we just don't have much in common, besides both having upper bodies that are grotesquely tiny compared to our lower bodies."

(Sorry, I just can't seem to get over the chick-to-bed size ratio.)

"You can come back in. Your father and I were just... frolicking."

"Somehow I never expected globalization to affect me on such a personal level."

"Well, I guess that proves it's okay to love one's oversized souvenir knick-knack collection... but not to love one's oversized souvenir knick-knack collection."

"In your face, to-do list!"

"Hey, can you pass me a tissue?"

"If you want me to build a snowman with you, you could just ask."

"I'm afraid once global warming hits, we will have to stop seeing each other."

"Okay, fine! sheesh! how was I supposed to know whether you have lungs or not?"

"No, man...but you can do the job when you're in town."

If Slide's post (about three up from here) doesn't win, I have lost all confidence in this contest. I decided not to post anything after seeing that.

Ah what the hell:

"The Inuit have 400 different words to describe what we just did."

"How did you like my 'Global Warming,' darling?"

"That's the last time I go to a key party at the Clauses' house."

"It's no use. No matter what I prop up in the bed in an attempt to fool myself into thinking I'm not alone, I still miss my dead husband."

"Look, I told you...I'm not balling balls in a ball."

"I'll stop the world and melt with you."

"Ice, Ice, BABY!"

"That little mittened stick felt good in my anus."

"I mean, really, where else but in the New Yorker would a postcoital woman still be wearing a bra?"

"Rosebud."

"Oh geez, who could that be at this hour? Well, your turn to answer the door."

This is the third john this week with a giant cocaine-filled bubble, thought Candy.

"Well, Slava, I've got to hand it to you: that was one hell of a show."

"Wow, there really WAS some magic in that old silk hat the kids found."

"Hey, you said you just wanted to have some fun before you melted away . . . so why are you still here?"

"I just don't understand why you won't come with me to visit my parents in Florida."

"OK, kids, very funny: Now get this thing out of here and bring back Mommy's medicine!"

"I don't care if you're made of MARZIPAN -- It's $50 for 30 minutes and don't think I won't break that globe open to get my money!"

"Snow Miser, I should have listened when you said that everything you touch turns to snow in your clutch - but now my ovaries have turned into snowballs. What will become of me?"

"Yeah, I know second-hand smoke is dangerous - but what are you worried about? You live in a protective glass globe."

"My husband's coming - just act cool!"

After two lung cancer surgeries, I STILL can't stop smoking. The drugs they're making me take are causing hallucinations. After all this suffering, I still can't stop smoking. God, what did I do to deserve this aful fate?

After two lung cancer surgeries, I STILL can't stop smoking. The drugs they're making me take are causing hallucinations. After all this suffering, I still can't stop smoking. God, what did I do to deserve this awful fate?

After two lung cancer surgeries, I STILL can't stop smoking. The drugs they're making me take are causing hallucinations. After all this suffering, I still can't stop smoking. God, what did I do to deserve this awful fate?

I should have stayed with that crying clown and not have changed my hair color to black.

"Rosebud..."

You know what song I never hear much on the radio anymore? "Patches." Damn, that's a good song. Do you think one the oldies station really takes requests?

Well... at least now I know what a, "snow job," is.

"I've had worse."

"So, you want to talk about where this is going? Just kidding, I know you're just an oversized snow globe. Heh, heh. Mind if I call you Rupert, though? Just kidding, of course you don't mind, do you, Rupert?"

Checkmate!

I swear to god Randall- if you make me smoke in a room with two lamps again I'm going to leave you.

"There's another example of why we're incompatible: Don Knotts dies and you choose to be happy by thinking about how he made you laugh. I'm sad he is dead. He seemed nice. Like, he would have been a really fun neighbor to have, you know?...and now there is sort of like a void in my life and the world is worse off and everything...I don't know..."

This is not what I had in mind when I wrote on my match.com profile that I liked "snowballing." I just meant that I like for guys to ejaculate in my mouth so I can spit it into theirs. This is sick!

Less smokin, more blowin, bitch. I ain't done.

You best not ash on my snow nuts, bitch.

Baby, you know I love you, but you pussy like a hippy live up in that shit -- stanky, lazy and bearded, and I don't take no shit from no commie skank. Bend over.

Here come the BIG THREE:

"If we're going to go through with this abortion, I want your 100% guarantee that you'll still be here come summer. Otherwise, the cube stays in the fridge."

"Ohhh, it's so easy to judge ME and MY addictions, when you are so hooked on china white you've created this little fantasy world for yourself where cocaine falls down from the heavens. You're the one who's pathetic."

"I'm sure mad! But it's like they say, 'those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.'"

Simon sure is in a cranky mood tonight. But he's right - that song really didn't show off her vocal range.

Baby, you know I love you, but you pussy like a hippy live up in that shit -- stanky, lazy and bearded, and I don't take no shit from no commie skank. Bend over.

"You can stop playing 'You Shook Me All Night Long' any time, thanks muchly."

"You were much hotter in the February 8th, 2006 picture on Radosh's blog wearing a Hitler mustache."

[MT won't let me post the link, drat!]

I don't usually do that with just anyone.

He probably just smells my snowglobe.

"...I've been seeing another souvenir."

I am still a prisoner in a secret North Korean cartoon captioning facility. Conditions are very bad. Our rations have been cut. There is fever. If you continue outsourcing captions from the lowest foreign bidders without verifying whether their workers are treated humanely, you are morally responsible for our suffering.

With a knicknack, Patty Wack gave a dog [not pictured -- ed.] a bone. Something something old man something something.

"I'm spent. To the tune of eighteen-freakin'-ninety-five, ya piece of crap."

or:

"I'm spent. And so is this caption thread."

According to Alberto Gonzales, keeping you locked in there does NOT constitute torture.

"Take the Musharraf personality test: Do you prefer young rockabilly Pervez or old Vegas Pervez?"

"I thought I'd find happiness after I quit the convent, but now I've got two bad habits to break! Ha!! (hacking cough follows)"

"Nick, does this thing have anything to do with The Game?"

"So, Bubble Boy...how does it feel to be a Snow Man?"

"So it's true what they say about Energizers!"

"Now I'm in the mood for Jon Stewart."

"This is why I love garage sales." (apologies to Scott Fitzpatrick)

"I had a ball. I really had a ball."

"Snow, snow, snow...That's all you ever want to talk about!"

"Sorry dear, but your carrot just isn't as big as you keep saying it is."

"I got news for you...snowflakes don't swim around like tadpoles, Gary."

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