October 3, 2006

The New Yorker Cartoon Anti-Caption Contest #69

I lied. But what I don't have time/resources to do is judge last week's contest. I'll try to get to it eventually.


Posted by Daniel Radosh


"Fine, stay here in Ann Coulter's vagina if want. I have bigger fish to fry!"

Caitlin Flanagan can go fuck herself.

I meant "Fine, stay here in Ann Coulter's vagina if *you* want. I have bigger fish to fry!"

"Well, it's been fun doing this anthropological study of hermits, but now I, a modern career woman, must return to the city."

"Well, like they say, 'you can hit a girl over the head with a caveman's club, but you can't make her stay.' Which is my way of saying I'm leaving you. Not because I don't like you, but because it looks like those volcanos are about to erupt. See ya!"

I thought you said you called ahead for a cab. There's nothing out here but dung heaps.

Sorry, I just can't stay in a dial-up realtionship anymore.

Oh, you'll miss me alright. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But some time right after the Superbowl and for the rest of the off-season...you'll miss me.

"The children will be home soon... What are you going to tell them?"

"go ahead and work outside the home, see if i care. 10000 years from now you'll still only be earning 70% of an equivalent job held by a man."

What the fuck do you mean "what do I do all day?"

"Og so sorry phallic symbols much smaller than giant vaginal cave entrance. But Og like to take opportunity to point out Og has three of them."

"I must say, you're really not doing much for the reputation of leprechauns. You're filthy, and this rainbow is hardly awe-inspiring. Anyway, thanks for the gold."

It's not you, it's me. I think we should see other justapositional characters.

"Text me when you find yourself."

"I can only hope that one day we'll be able to share our love with the world, and I'll be able to shout from the rooftops, 'I'm Dr. Mrs. Joyce Brothers-Bin Laden!'"

"Yes, well, this was fascinating research for my doctoral thesis. Now if you'll excuse me, I must get back to -- oh, crap. I stepped on a butterfly. This can't end well."

"I'm sorry, Oog, but it can't work. I'm Protestant, and you predate Christ by several thousand years."

"No, I don't know what's in these bags, either."

"I have to get to work. You better be walking upright by the time I get home."

"No, sorry, I don't have any change."

It's called romance, Og...it's so easy, even a caveman can do it.

When I said, "Throw a guy a bone," I didn't mean it literally.

"Chicken again?!"

[As if anything could beat Dr. Mrs. Joyce Brothers-bin-Laden]

"Frankly my oog I don't give a yowl."

"Watch out for the neighbor, he's a real bear. No, seriously, like a giant, carnivorous, bear. Just make yourself look small. Bus stop's at the end of the gully or you can wait for a cab by the large, smelly tree. Thanks for the PowerPoint presentation, pretty lady."

"Well, okay, so you threw me a bone. Great. Got any medals in your bag there, Alice? Maybe a cookie? Because that would be fucking fantastic after all I've done for you. Do you even know how to kill a ground sloth?"

"What's the weather like, Sylvanie? Is it volcanoes or the striated undersides of dark clouds? Either way I probably won't go to work but it's nice to know."

"What do you mean not even if I were the first man on Earth?"

"I'm not a Teen Angel anymore, Captain. I've grown, the world has changed. I have to try and make my own way in the world of crime fighting. From now on I'm Taffy Dare, Crime Scene Investigating Angel."

"Bye, Steve, I'll call you from Memphis. Oh, remember there's a sharpened rock in the kitchen if you get hungry."

(agreed: "Dr. Mrs. Joyce Brothers-Bin Laden" is unstoppable)

"I'm not a hunter or a gatherer. I'm a gathering consultant. Nice work if you can get it."

"Call me?"

"I am from the future, where we have mastered time travel and telepathy. That is why I am dressed in anachronistic clothing, and am able to talk to you without opening my mouth."

"You died *how* long ago? You understand that all you have to do is walk into the light, right?"

i think Deborah could win the real one with hers.

um...the one about not having any change.

I know the survey said that I have a greater likelihood of discovering fire than finding a new mate at this age; I'll just have to take my chances.

My advice, Mr. Cromagnon? Take this deal from the Neanderthals. If you don't, history will brand you as an also-ran.

Your attitudes about women are downright-- oh, fuck it.

"Thanks for the date. It was a night of clubbing and boning I'll never forget."

This trompe-l'oeuil painting is pretty good. And I love the retro corrugated-steel architecture. But this gallery would be better if it could keep out the street people. Oh, and if it had some lockers, so I wouldn't have to carry these bags around.

I'm leaving you for good and all you have to say is "ooga, ooga"?

I just could never be with someone who would allow themself to be degraded by Garry Larson.

"I dunno, I'm so confused right now... I can't even be sure which one of us is talking!"

"Hey pretty lady: Is it just me, or do those clouds look like a giant butter-drizzled croissant? Fuck, I'm hungry."

"I'm a Luddite, not a fucking cavewoman."

"Eat. Drink. Man. Woman. Cave. Dungheaps. Bye."

"All right, miss so-phis-ti-cat-ed lady, go ahead and leave. But you'll be running back in here in terror as soon as the giant boneless tortoises start slitherin' after you."

"I'm just an Avon lady, and what you need is a visit fom the Fuller brush man."

"That was awesome--and I thought 'I'll fuck you back to the stone age' was just a bad pick-up line!"

"Oh, miss - before you leave, could you at least call 911? As you can see, I've been savagely beaten and am about to die from massive internal bleeding. Thanks."


"Now that I'm here, I wish the light at the end of the tunnel had actually been an oncoming train."

Tyme Sefari Inc. Sefaris tu any yeer en the past. Yu naim the animall. We taek yu thair. Yu shoot itt.

Call me when you get the results of your AIDs test.

Here's a tip: next time just slip me a roofie so I don't wake up with a knot on my head.

The volcanoes here are obscene.

You haven't changed a bit, Harold. Not in 200,000 years.

How about this whole Foley thing? Pretty crazy, huh?

29 levels of compatibility my ass.

"Mr. Gibson, it may well be that your downhill spiral began with "that fucking S&M Jesus movie" as you call it, but we at Social Services can do nothing for you until you begin to take some personal responsibility for your condition. And since you asked -- yes, I am a Jewess."

"Sorry, Moogah, I wasn't paying attention. I was distracted by that woman's cleavage behind you, in the banner ad."

"Same old, same old."

"I'm just in a different place right now. If you don't understand it now, you never will..."

"It's not you, Oog. It's me."

"It's really quite ironic: for such a dark, slovenly, and cave-like abode, you actually have very respectable grooming products.
If only you had used them yourself, I might not be leaving this God-forsaken hell hole."

"It's been great. Really. But now I've got to go on a forced hiatus."

"Just got a call from TekServe--Radosh needs me...and I have no idea when I'll back."

“Psssst... It’s me, here, hiding outside the cave. I really didn’t want to intrude on such an emotional scene – I mean, look at them, wordlessly staring at each other while all these symbols of transition – the tunnel opening, the threatening volcanoes, the long shadows of dusk – underline (some would say belabor, I say underline) the notion that their relationship is approaching its end. You can feel this 21st-century professional was more than just some Paleolithic person’s plaything, that these two really cared for one another, right? Seriously, let them have their moment! This image doesn’t require a caption! Too much of our modern life is filled with needless aural pollution, as if every pause were an insecurity, every stretch of silence an underdeveloped tract. Perhaps that’s what drew our executive back here in the first place, the need for a quieter time when the spaces between people weren’t clogged with bullshit verbiage and busywork static, a simpler time when needs dictated action and wants weren’t confused with needs. And perhaps that’s why she’s leaving – no, Bartholomew, it is not you, it is I: she has realized that she enjoys the distraction things of little consequence provide, that all the technology she thought had been sucking the life out of her really made her feel a part of something larger than herself. And she misses that. But she’ll miss this – and him – too. So I – and by extension, the editors of The New Yorker – invite you to quietly appreciate all that. (Next week: Pubic Hair Jokes!)”

"Go fuck yourself!"

Brilliant, J.

"It turns out that what we believed was reality was merely shadows cast on the wall of this cave. So I've decided to seek out the 'real' reality. I hope I'm not overdressed."

Goodbye and thanks for all the bones.

"I should have known you were uncircumcised."

"Being that this is probably the last time I'll ever see you I really wish you'd close your legs when you sit like that."

"I think it would be nice if you started using napkins."

Yes, I remember how you dragged me in here by my hair and gave me food in exchange for my companionship. But I have grown since then. Can you say the same?

First Contestant to Be Eliminated from 'The Flintstones' Reality Show. (In her bag she's smuggling out the sarcastic ibis. You know, the one that plays the granite phonograph records.)

"I'm going back to New York City. I do believe I've had enought."

By the way, that petroglyph going around the village of a woman fucking a Triceratops... that was me!

OK, Schlogg. I'll see you in two weeks for your next massage appointment but would you mind washing your genitals before hand?

Honey, I know you think I have a thing for older men but my trips to Olduvai Gorge are strictly business.

Don't worry Google. I think you're a bright and enterprising Primitive man. Keep on searching and if you avoid getting mixed up in any corporate espionage scandals you might own this Valley.

What kind of a Homo are you?

Lest we forget Mr. Gloggrk, your lease agreement states you must clean up your brontosaurus crap before it petrifies.

The market is kind of soft right now for older, single-family dwellings. I'm selling a lot of glacier front property to Cro-Mags that are putting up these modern pre-fabs.

"Jim, you eat more chicken than any man alive!"

"Grakgrok, did you just call me a cunt whore?"

"While I am accustomed to the vicissitudes of time travel, being frozen at this particular coordinate these past two weeks is most troubling. It is a little late in the game for me to develop an absorbing internal life to cope with the situation. I guess I'll just have to let my head explode."

"We'll be outsourcing your physical. Your head will be going to Bangalore and your chest to Beijing. Your fine ass, however, is staying right here with me." (Oh what might have been!)

"I've fucked better."

"I'm sorry Radosh, but until you get off your wooly behind and attend to your blog I'm gonna venture off into the real world." : )

"I dont care if you're habilis, sapiens, or even erectus ... I need a REAL man!!!!"

1. "You know, before I died I just assumed you wouldn't have to walk through the tunnel of light where you meet everyone you ever knew."

2. "Care thee for a bite of this drumstick, madam?"

3. "!"

"And another thing! You did NOT hand-carve this machine-drilled tunnel, you lying sack of shit!"

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