October 29, 2006

The New Yorker Cartoon Anti-Caption Contest #73

Vote now for the worst possible caption for this New Yorker cartoon. Click here for details. Click here to see the previous week's winner.


"I am fat and ugly, so I am not picky about what sort of affection I attract and from whom." —J.D.

Posted by Daniel Radosh


Hi, this is Mark Foley, I'm afraid John won't be able to come to school today, he's feeling a little under the...hold on...I didn't say to stop John.

"Can I call you back? Someone's biting my ankle."

"Oh, the term 'ankle biter' typically refers to a small child? Well, that doesn't really help, but thanks, New York Public Library reference desk."

"Can you hear me now?"

"Dr. Borstein? Yes, it's me - it's back, that pain I told you about? Right in my achilles tendon, yeah. I know, pretty mysterious. Can I get a prescription?"

"Darn it, Petersen, can no one in your department give a competent blowjob?"

"Hello, 311? I hope you can help me. There is a giant sperm lying on my desk ... a giant sperm ... sperm ... about a foot long, yes ... tail about three, four feet, hanging down to the floor ... no, it's just lying there. Can you send someone over, animal control or something? It's making everybody a little crazy here."

"Yes, when can I come in to get my new prosthesis? This coffee flavored one is attracting a bad crowd."

"So, to make a long story short, he bit me, I killed him. Should've removed him from my leg before rigor mortis set in, but I got busy. What the hell, hindsight is 20-20, right?"

"Sayyyling, takes me awayyy... to where I've always heard it could be just a dream and the wind to carry me -- Yes? Yes, I am. Yes, I will -- Sayyyling, takes me awayyy...."

Yes, God, I'll be sure to tell him how sometimes the soil must be tilled with the blood of the innocent so that new, even greater seeds, shall grow. Bye.

“As my wife has no arms, I thought it only fair.”

"Yes, the doctor is on his way and I've already talked to his wife. The supervised release just didn't work. I guess he'll never be able to live a normal life outside of the institution. You're right. It really is a shame."

Yes, Jepsen, you were right -- the pink triangles on his tie DO mean he's gay. I owe you $50.

"Well, I did think that I was biting myself at first, but then I noticed that the guy's tie is different."

"No, just the usual. Spying in the women's room, stealing my boss's tie, making the switchboard light up. It's just... I don't know. I feel like my in-body experiences were so much richer. There may even be time to revive me."

It's just not as arousing anymore since he's gotten so hippy.


"Help, someone's stolen my computer! The monitor, mouse, CPU, everything's gone but the keyboard. There's all sorts of information on the hard drive which could be potentially embarrassing to the company, too."

"Hi, HR? Brad Johnson in accounting here. Yeah, well, I know that they're all just eager young kids who are only earning college credit for their time here, but I'm really a little disappointed in my intern, and frankly I'd like him removed."

"Hi, honey. Great news: These new tear-proof socks you bought? They're fantastic! Can you get me another half-dozen?"

"It's the damnedest thing: I came to work this morning and my computer was gone."


Ummphh! This leg tastes so much better than that piece of shit I got off Heather Mills.

"Hello, Cheryl? Can you get security to remove a dead body from my office? I have no idea, it was here when I arrived, just lying on the floor in a frozen kind of 'expectant puppy' pose. Yeah, I think it's been here a while, and it's hard to maneuver my chair around it. Thanks, appreciate it."

"No. Then he'd just start gnawing on my real leg."

"Hi, yes. Can you please bring me some paper towels? I stepped in something on my way to work."

"We're running a little late. Bob lost his contact lens - he's looking for it now."

"It's okay so far. I'm sensing some hostility from my officemate, though."

"Yes, we're conjoined twins. It is unfortunate, but we've learned to live with it for the most part."

". . . my name is Talky Tina, and I'm going to kill you."

No, I wouldn't say I "have a gnawing suspicion" that Mark Foley has formed an unhealthy attraction to me. Who writes your fucking material? Mark Russell?

Mom, Brian's biting me again.

"Well, I called the number on the box because I had an erection that lasted more than four hours, and then they said to call back if that didn't work."

"Not only that, I think he also ate the arms off my desk chair."

"Hello, Mr. Van Helsing? I think I got a real dumb one here."

"We'll be down to the party in a few minutes. Larry's just helping me with my Curt Schilling costume."

"I firmly believe this is what Mark Furman did to O.J."

"Dr. Martin! Dr. Martin! They're doing it now - gaaaahhh - pumping toothpaste through the round keyhole in my door!!!No, I'm absolutely sure, they're really doing it!!! What? Yes, I've already applied the antidote, as per your suggestion, though it's a little painful..."

"I'm terribly sorry. What would be the non-emergency number?"

The temps here are obscene!

"Hello, security? I need someone to remove Patrick Hynes of AnkleBitingPundits.com from my office."

"Yes, Miss Collins? Can you bring in some nail-polish remover? In the process of supergluing Higgins to the floor, I've accidentally gotten my middle and ring finger stuck together on both my hands. Ow! No biting, Higgins!"

Oh, my God! The hostage takers just shot another one! Everyone here is so scared! If this is the last time we ever speak to each other, just know that I love you and the kids more than anything in the whole world!

I'm getting a second opinion right now, but I'm telling you the pants are too short and I didn't want cuffs.

Monica's working out great. I feel bad I made fun of his name.

When a man calls another man "a tastey morsel" it just sounds gay to me.

I need a bigger desk or at least a bigger space beneath my desk.

"A hostile work environment? Honestly Bill, I wouldn't know that woman if she walked in here and bit me in the ass."

"Doc, I'd like to schedule that Siamese twin removal."

"Hello, 911? I hope this goes through since my phone base looks disconnected. Anyway, I've got a guy clamped onto my ankle and maybe another wacko turning the door handle to get into my office."

"I'm seeing someone else. Way over in the corner of my office, standing on my short filing cabinet. Oh yes, and I'm romantically involved with someone new. Who I'm not looking at right now."

"It's ok, I just pee on him and he leaves. It doesn't hurt that bad. What? You mean maybe he's doing so I'll pee on him? I never thought of it that way."

That? Oh, that's just my boy grazing on my warts.

I just realized that I'm talking into an upside-down corndog. That would explain the canola oil in my ear, which has dripped all the way down to my ankle -- hey!!!

Yeah, ever since we talked him back into the building from off of that tightrope, he's been extremely hesitant to actually stand up.

"Oh, nothing much. Howsabout by you?"

"Nope, all I've managed to learn is that I taste not unlike chicken."

"I am so fucking hot for you right now. If you're into me, just look at me and say 'Yes'. I just wanna get some hookers and some blow and just -- excuse me, can this wait? I'm on the phone."

"Yes, hello, Kelly Temps? I believe there's been another misunderstanding. For the last time, I requested a *rapid* typist. Honestly, first you send me a tepid rapist, and now this."

"Hey, listen, has anyone told the guy who had this office that I'm replacing him? What's that? I replaced a woman? Huh. Well, then who the fuck is this guy chewing on my ankle?"

"Nah, I've only got to do it for three more minutes, and then we trade places."

"So, we've replaced the money-fetching dog with a biting guy. Yeah, I don't know what Pinch was thinking, either."

"The Weinstein Company, how may I direct your call?"

"Yeah, Malcolm Gladwell said it's a counterintuitively good idea, but between you and me, I'm kind of beginning to think he's just making things up now."

"Y'know, things around Sunnyvale Heights have been really unpleasant, ever since the neighboring town got destroyed."

"Yes, hello, New York Post? Y'know those adages about dog-bites-man versus man-bites-dog? Well, I have something that might or might not be of interest to you."

"Yes, this is Cannibal, Cannibal, Wilkinson & Cannibal, Attorneys-at-Law. You've reached Mr. Wilkinson."

"So, the pitch is, it's 'Saw" meets 'In Good Company', and here's the beauty part: It's based on a true story! No, I'm not sure how it ends just yet -- let me call you back."

Yes, I lured him into my office this morning under false pretenses, once I saw the money had been transferred into my account. The only thing I ask is that you do it someplace else, as his disappearance will already be met with great sadness and concern by the many friends he's made and lives he's touched working here over the years. Thank you.

"Oh, yes, that's good, that's nice, but just a little higher. I said, a little higher. Is this walkie-talkie working? Hello? *tap tap* Hello? Hmm, maybe I should just lean over and talk to you directly."

"Jane, can you cancel my 2:30 and get me the HR guy in charge of rabies."

"First they cut my health benefits, then my 401k matching contributions, and now this. I'm calling Lou Dobbs."

"Yes, I'll hold."

"No, I enjoy the odor. And the added attention they bring. I just hadn't realized socks made from beef jerky would be so damned itchy."

"...so now apparently I am also an Ankpire... Yes, it did sound stupid when I said it. It appears I've been a little too passive through this whole experience. Can I call you back?"

"No, *literally* literally at my heels!"

Hello Mr. Sub? Do you still have that foot-long special? Does it come with an ankle attached or is that extra?

I've called Friends and Family of Ankle Biters Anonymous three times and tried the old "Put a Picture of a Sailboat On The Wall Trick," and still nada. What's that? Salt on his head?

I would give up on him, love or no love, if he wasn't such a genius at mariner genre oils.

We call him Donny and he seems to like that and the work. But really, what business do you have staring at us through our slightly raised window treatment, anyway??

I used to be obsessed with saving for the monitor and CPU....now all I can think about is him and how wrinkled his suits become.

Hello, this is John in suite 401. Can you send someone up here to fix my doorknob?

"It's for the new ad campaign: 'What I wouldn't do for a pair of those Berlutis'. Maybe a little lowbrow for our demographic."

"Frankly, Francis, I'd rather be sailing. Hmm. Someone ought to make a bumper sticker that says that. 'Frankly, Francis.' Yeah, I like it."

"Fraternal Order of Men with Child-Bearing Hips. How may I help you?"

"Uh, yeah, Security?... We're getting glory holed over here right now and uh, my colleague is repulsed 'cause he just yanked on it."

"Hi, I'm calling in regards to the tight rope case seven days ago... My client would like to come clean about the accident. Said he called Mr. Lippshitz a coke whore and some other stuff just before he fell."

Drive Savers? It's me Radosh again... Huh?... Oh yeah. I got the Gerry Ford picture. I'm looking at it right now, thanks. Say, um, my computer's fucked up again. I think I'm being sabotaged..."

"I don't have a problem with the corns persay, just the people eating them."

"Marcy, ever since you told him you were boning that cave guy he's gone primal."

"Yeah, New Yorker? It's Leo, the cartoonist. Why didn't you run the one where he's getting butt fucked? That was funnier."

"My eyes bulge out like a stripper's breast implants. It is a symptom of Graves disease, that is, an overactive thyroid. That's why people shun me -- or worse, laugh at me. Former First Lady Barbara Bush suffers from the same affliction."

"The first rule of Bite Club is: 'you do not talk about Bite Club'. The second rule of Bite Club is 'you do not talk about Bite Club'."

"Um...hello. I am Jack's sore upper ankle."

"So his behavior is 'very funny?' I knew it. Thanks, TBS."

"He threw a used manpon at me and then started biting my ankle. Well, that's what he called it as he pulled it out of his... Yeah, it's sitting on my desk."

"Yes, hello, security? This is Mr. Achilles. We have a situation here that looks like it could turn deadly."

"...and my brother and I were out hiking, and I got my foot caught in a bear trap, and so I tried to gnaw it off, but I just couldn't manage it. So I asked my brother if he would gnaw it off for me, and he asked if it wouldn't be better for everyone concerned if he just opened the bear trap. So that's what he did, but I always thought it felt...anticlimactic, you know? But life went on, and eventually I found myself here, holding down the same vice president spot at Amalgamated Droopknob for 15 years running, and I feel like my whole life has become a sort of bear trap, you know? So that's why I decided I needed to call a professional. What? Oh, no, honey, not a psychiatrist -- you know I think psychiatrists are full of shit. I called a male prostitution agency to ask if they had anyone willing to gnaw off my foot. And they did! He's not done yet, but I already feel freer. Anyway, I just thought I should tell you I might be home a little late."

"Joanne? I need you to call the exterminator. Yes, the people exterminator."

"Yes, Ma, I know Joe Torre would probably have an orgasm if it happened to him but I'm not Joe Torre and I just want this guy off my ankle. What'd they do in the old country when this happened?"

"Well, you know what they say, It's a businessjerk-eat-businessjerk world."

"I can probably get you 3.2 for six-and-a-half but the margin call is gonna--YOUUUUU FILL UP MY SENNNNSES!--geez, sorry, Al, Anne Coulter's gnawing on my leg and just hit the sweet spot. Anyway, like I said the margin call's gonna be a bitch if the Japanese notice."

"Me? Well, I'm 5'11" with brown hair and brown eyes. Prosperous physique. Traditional styling but with an urban edge. Oh, and my resentful younger brother has been grasping my ankle with his teeth since 1991."

"Well, I accused him of eating the plug off my heating pad, and he seems to have taken it very badly".

A little more tongue Harold.

"Hello, Mr. President? Haggard here - I'm gonna have to skip this week's White House conference call - I have some heavy-duty, uh, ministering going on here right now. OK, thanks."

"I am fat and ugly, so I am not picky about what sort of affection I attract and from whom."

"Hello, Mr. President? Me again, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to clarify one thing. It's not so much that I'm 'ministering' right now as that I'm busy getting a completely non-erotic ankle massage. Got that? Great. Oh, one more thing - I'm stoned to the teeth on meth."

Has the innuendo of the command "Chomp!" lost it's aggressive yet titillating implications in the new millenium?

Final scene from The Senior Product Manager, the Assistant Human Resources Specialist, his Wife, and her Lover.

Hello, HR? Henderson's bitten off my phone cord again. Can you send someone up?

Hi, honey. Listen: they've locked me in, cut my phone cord and unleashed the dog trainer on me, so go ahead and start dinner without me.

Hello? Cesar Millan?

"It's true: Jenkins looks even sillier without the furry outfit."

"Get this: When he wakes up, he'll see the picture of his penis on my desk!"

"There's something I still don't understand: What is that flat thing on my desk?"

"I told him that my ankle is gluten-free, and I haven't been able to shake him off since."

so you're saying all I need to do to open my office door is to move my desk so it isn't blocking it anymore? Well I'll be. I thought for sure Richards biting my ankle would do the trick.

What really scares me is that I think it is my alter ego.

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