RRbanner.jpg

July 17, 2006

The New Yorker Cartoon Anti-Caption Contest #59

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.

A11653.jpg

"Honey, I'm taking down the family picture. Its conventionality undermines the quirkiness I'm attempting to convey with my novelty clock."

"How about @:$!!? Does @:$!! work for you?"

Results after the jump

Winner
"Half past a monkey's ass and a quarter to his balls? What kind of clock are you using?" —Kevin Dean Nicewanger

Finalists:
"Like ampersands in the hourglass...so are the days of our lives." —Francis

"It's just like my grandpappy always said, 'It's always Fuck-Thirty somewhere!" —jason

Posted by Daniel Radosh

Comments

"Miss Johnson, are you sure that was decaf?"

"But gee whiz, cupcake, we have to pick Bobby up from daycare by Asshole o'clock and it's already ten past Go Fuck Yourself."

(In Willem Dafoe voice, from "Auto Focus":) "It's fuck time!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mamet isn't in to take your fucking call."

"Excellent. And how many tablets of v|@gr@ would you like to buy?"

"INTERNATIONAL STUCK SHIFT-KEY ASSOCIATION, HOW MAY I DIRECT YOUR CALL?"

"$#&*% #%* @$%#. ^&$*? #$@%&^)(%%$!"

"No, no, no, I said I have a giant clock that needs two commas. What did you hear?"

"Hello? Yeah, listen, I ordered the emoticon clock and you sent me this piece of $@#^*#.

>:(."

So it's like one thirty-five now; I guess I could be there by three. How's that sound?

"What the hell?! Those aren't my family members!!!?"

"I gotta call you back, Chuck. Somebody graffiti'ed my desk, tere's a raging fire in my wastebasket, and now some kind of malevolent twinkling orb is floating toward me. OK. Five minutes."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Peterson won't be back for another - lessee... for... another... oh WHY did I ever say yes when they asked 'do you know how to tell time?'?"

"Ms. Patterson, the novelty clock is fine, but why is 'DA' written on my desk?!"

"Miss Pennibaker, please fire everyone in graphic design. Also, call a doctor-- I stuck my fingers in the pencil sharpener again."

"It's just like my grandpappy always said, 'It's always Fuck-Thirty somewhere!"

Yeah, I hung it right over the my potted gorilla pubes.

"Yes, may I speak to the lame-ass cartoonist who ran out of ideas and decided to mail it in this week...?"

Holy #@%&**! someone turned my clock upside down . . . I'm totally late for the Huckapoo concert!

"What troubles me in the upside-down question mark. If this is some type of non-english novelty clock? I'll never be able to tell the time if it is!"

"Hi, honey? Yeah, I'm just wondering why you're wearing a burqa in our family portrait. And also why our son looks like a minitaure Jack Abramoff. Or a cat wearing a fedora. Oh, and do you know what time it is?"

"Dammit, you listen to me - when I ordered this novelty clock of typographical symbols, I specifically said: ENGLISH ONLY!"

"Yes, can you please get me an appointment with Dr. Grad? I've got to do something about this hand. Oh, and call security? The peeping Toms are back. Three of them this time. They're staring at me right now though the window."

"I ordered a kanji clock. I don't know what the ?#@% this is. Come and take it back before I lose my %^&@/!! temper. Yeah? Well &(*@ you, too."

"Yes, Tibor Kalman was a genius but I never know what time it is. "

"I'm sorry, but the giant clock is scaring the plant and making the tiny monitor feel inferior."

Honey, I know I promised not to work after seven any more, but according to MY clock, it's only ! after $.

What the fuck? Hold on, someone messed with my clock. I'll call you right back.

"Hello, thanks for calling Flavor Flaaaaaaaaav! Factory Rejects, Inc. How may I direct your call?"

"Yes, it's al in LA. Look I'm pissed. Some guy named 'Vance' basically ripped off my caption!"

(see mine two above good old Vance's)

"It's whatever time you say it is, Mr. President."

Everyone go home. Brownie wins.

It's Money time!

Analog never did make sense to me.

Time keeps on slippin', slippin, slippin...into the $@#!!

"Let me be the first to point out that I ripped off that caption by Al from LA... what? ... all right, second, whatever. Thing is, I was so messed up by the typography that I didn't actually see Al's from LA. Al from LA's. Whatever. Apologies all 'round. OK, well it's almost $@#!!, gotta go."

that's "in," of course. Another round.

"Okay, so a single exclamation point represents the number 2, and two exclamation points represent the number 8. Does that make sense? It seems like two exclamation points should be exactly twice as much as just one exclamation point."

"Like ampersands in the hourglass...so are the days of our lives."

"Although I think this explains why my boss didn't fire me when I called him a 'huge dingbat cock'."

"If you would hold, madam, I shall check to see whether Zapf is still in his meeting."

"You know, when I first started, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I thought to myself, "Dernawich, you've got to do something to get their attention. You're not so clever with the captions, so you'll have to shine in the art department. I know -- I'll do my throw-away cartoons as linoleum prints. I'll use realistic perspective and plan the composition, taking care to exhibit skilled draftsmanship. That ought to do it!" Years later, while everybody else tosses their's off with a few pencil strokes and a sloppy ink wash, I'm stuck with awls and squeegees and stinky printer's ink and a mess to clean up, and I've got no time to have a life. I really wish I had thought this through."

"Hi, this is Beetle calling from Senator Snorkel's office..."

"While my entire universe appears to be carved into a linoleum print, the characters on my novelty clock seem to have been painted in, albeit in a slightly distorted manner, apparently in an effort to fool the viewer into thinking they were part of the original process. This strikes me as an artistic violation, destroying the integrity of the work, and calling into question the entire ouvre of its creator. Fortunately, this cartoon along with the rest of the issue will be in the recycling bin in a few days, forgotten by all but a few pretentious obsessives."

"I don't know how much longer I can work here, Mom, even the clock hates me."

"Fuck."

"J.D? It's me, the guy in the cartoon? Look, old buddy, your caption ideas are long winded and not at all funny...Sure, I'll hold..."

[i]I have a clock that works all right,
It works all right but not exactly quite.
Instead of going "tick, tock, tick,"
The crazy clock goes "Suck my dick!"[/i]

Alternate version, correctly tagged this time:

I have a clock that works all right,
It works all right but not exactly quite.
Instead of going "tick, tock, tick,"
The crazy clock goes "Suck my cock!"

"I'll call you back at fwshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pwip-
khhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-pwip, Mr. Borge."

" You won't believe this Bill, but when I sneezed my moustache flew off and hit that ugly round thing I've got hanging on the wall dead center, and now it looks like some kind of bizarre clock. "

"Sorry honey, I'm going to be late. Well, my secretary and I are playing another game of 'clock rebus charades', and now I have to 'pound' her in the 'ass'."

"Jim, where's the Perl code you were supposed to send me on disc? Oh, wait, I found it."

wow, mypalmike, you've managed to combine an incredibly bad pun with an incredibly geeky programming reference.

There must be some sort of special award for that.

"...but the Genie granting my wishes thought I said a "big clock that sucks."

Get me the police! A vandal painted the elliptical word "Da" on the side of my desk!

This stupid novelty clock is so annoying that I painted my glasses white, occluding my eyes!

The typist for the numbers on my clock must have had his or her hands slip on his or her keyboard, resulting in a nonsensical timepiece!

My hands can puncture your abdomen! Fear me!

Yes, I know what #$%@ing time it is!!

"I have a rare form of synaesthesia; I hear numbers as curses."

"You know, it's strange but every day about this time I get the strangest desire to fuck some cocksucking motherfucker's asshole."

"The hours here are obscene. Yesterday, I couldn't leave until 7:30. Also, someone
has defaced my clock."

"The hours here are obscene. Yesterday, I couldn't leave until 7:30. Also, someone has defaced my clock."

Hello, Giuseppe's? That ?#!@^% pizza you just delivered is so unappetizing-looking I'm tossing it out my office doorway. Literally. It's arcing through the air even as we speak. Yeah, well, sausage you too, pal!

Predicted real winner: The first sentence of Harry's entry: "The hours here are obscene."

I'll take that as a compliment, jason. Thanks. (Hey, I really enjoyed the photography on your site.)

"Half past a monkey's ass and a quarter to his balls? What kind of clock are you using?"

"OK then, see you at $#:%!! on [\{";day."

"Yeah, well, my kid's got no artistic talent. That color by numbers book I got him looks like a Jackson Pollock canvas."

FUCK! It's an earthquake!

"I can never remember -- is it spring way the fuck back, fall forward onto your fucking face; or the other way around?"

“The bombs are getting closer – the building is starting to shake. If God (who is merciful, whose mercy burns with the brightness of a thousand suns) should decide this is my time... no, do not cry, be strong. You have to be strong. Know that I love you, that you have been a good wife, that (should God in his perfect grace will it so) we shall meet each other again in the gardens of Paradise. Tell Ahmed that I... tell him his father was always proud of him.”

“171 914 19202 085 4125.”

“Operator, get me !#!-%%%-&^@$. And hurry!”

“Take it from me. You can live perfectly well without a colon.”

hey, mypalmike, i submitted that exact thing (the hours here are obscene) to the real contest. Don't be messing up my chances.

"It's a genuine Touretts.. and it just keeps tic-ing!"

"Oh, fuck, I'm freaking out--I seriously just took down like three shroom--shit, I don't even know what's real."

"Remember the curse that old gypsy woman put on me? The same day Ben and I got our picture taken with Ronnie James Dio?"

Post a comment

Powered by
Movable Type 3.2