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“God gets the higher chair. Because, you know. He’s God.”

“That’s not a cloud. That’s Marty, smoking weed. Stick around and you’ll get a great contact high.”

“My co-worker just set himself on fire. Could you please call 911?”

Baywatch was never the same after the ExxonMobil product placement fiasco.

Welcome to Oil Derrick beach. My name is Derrick. Would you like to oil me?

Watch out! There's a DeeDee fish in the water!

"They said it'll produce extra virgin olive oil, but, Jezz, I don't know."

Zut alors! What was I thinking when I hired Gustave Eiffel to construct a lifeguard tower!

They put air traffic control next to the lifeguards so we could all play touch fooball on our breaks.

The towers here are obscene!

"Would you mind slowly jogging past our chairs again? My friend is still masturbating."

"No, this beach doesn't have a snack bar, but you should feel free to bring your children here for a picnic lunch. We even have a high chair."

"Don't make me come down there!"

Yes, Mrs. Brody, I know. We're gonna need a bigger lifeguard.

"Yeah, I know. I thought they built the chair and tower a little close to the waterline too."

"No ma'am. There are no dog's allowed on this beach."

"You should still use sunblock even when it's this cloudy."

Are you aware that there is a giant chair, or possibly an oil derrick, extending up into the clouds? What possible beach oriented or comedic purpose could this serve?

"That's the tower for your fucking cell phones, so you fucking out-of-towners don't have to suffer through five fucking minutes of being without your precious fucking cell phones. However, please note that despite my obvious contempt for your privileged lifestyle, I will still save you from drowning, should it come to that."

"Smoking, or non-smoking?"

"I handle VFR emergencies, he handles IFR"

"I don't know, he just showed up with a shitload of lumber and started giggling about getting high before he smoked out."

We have early-morning low clouds and fog obscurring the joke. It should become clear by afternoon.

"Yes, the height of our lifeguard chairs directly correlates to the length of our penises. I'm not sure why; it's kind of humiliating."

I agree with you, beach jokes after Labor Day are quite gauche, but this is New Jersey after all.

No, I'm just a lifeguard. I can't rescue this cartoon.

Range Control, we're go. This will be a 100 kiloton air burst at 30 meters altitude, in low overcast weather conditions. Test houses are located at 50 meter intervals. Army and support personnel dressed only in underwear and SPF 4 sunscreen are positioned at close range. We're at minus 5 minutes and counting. God, I hate the 50s.

shit, i'm freaking out.

"Of course it's a reference to penis size."

"It's the Lifeguard Chair of Babel. Got a ziggurat?"

"You know what they say: 'A drunken lifeguard is as useful as a hilarious woodcut.'"

"What a coincidence! You've lost your son Derek, and I live in an abandoned derrick! See, both of us have a connection with something abandoned."

"I'm 'hanging brain'? What's that mean?"

The other lifeguard has his head in the clouds. I like to get mine down here, if you follow my implication.

"Earth, water, fire and air (the last two represented by the smoke blowing by here) are the classic elements of life. Unfortunately they are not the classic elements of humor."

"Calm down. Your daughter is not drowning, ma'am. They splash and flail when they're drowning. And from what I saw, she stopped doing that several minutes ago."

"No, it’s not the biggest erection this beach has ever seen.”

"PSSSST! Wanna come up and see my etching? Hm? Etching, you know, like what we're in. Whuzzat? Woodcut? It's the same thing, ain't it? Sure it is. OK, forget the etching thing: Wanna screw?"

"How's the weather up there?"

It's the only part of the Cyclone we could save from the developers. Now, can I interest you in some whitefish?

I'll see you in hell! I'll see you in hell!". That's the last thing I remember...why?

Yes, the Gulf Coast is a wonderful place for a vacation, if you don't mind the hurricanes and oil derricks and the black slimy goo that covers everything....

"I am just as confused as you, miss. I don't have arms yet I managed to climb up here. The other tower has no steps and I don't know WHERE it came from."

"Clothing is optional on this beach...heh heh. I know, lousy joke, but the fat guy in front of you took it seriously!"

"Damn, the Burningman tower was set ablaze early AGAIN!"

If you think I'm getting off my *ass* and climbing down there to rescue you from this *lame* cartoon think again, lady!

"Sure it's a bit excessive, but when I yell on my megaphone from up there it really scares the shit out of people."

"That's my tsunami chair."

Ah crud! My tower seems to have been erected on a spot of quicksand! Listen, lady, I know this is counterintuitive, but would it be without the bounds of possiblity for you to throw me a life saver? No, I don't mean a piece of candy, you stupid...Wait, wait! I'm sorry! Come back! Hey! Where are you going?! You stupid whore!!!

"Of course I don't use it on cloudy days like this -- I'm narcissistic not crazy."

"Oh, that? Hasselhoff."

"I'd do you right here, if I didn't seriously believe 'the guy upstairs' is watching over us."

"I used to sit up there because I like to pretend I'm God. Then I realized I could get the same feeling just letting people drown once in a while."

Ed C has nailed it

As it turned out, I inherited this amazing lifeguard chair that was next to an oil rig.

"I apologize. He just likes carrying people for a few steps, is all. I'm sure that what you felt as inappropriate touching was completely accidental, but let me give you contact information for our manager."

No mam, no shark attacks on this beach. Especially none by a deranged man-eating creature that can leap fifty feet in the air and that absurdly carries a vendetta against a family. Yes mam, you're right. That does sound like it would make a horrible movie.

It's harshing my tan, but I get kickass reception on 640AM.

Damn you, Vance, I was going to hit the "come upstairs and see my woodcuts" angle.

kejo: Best "obscene" entry in a long time.

That chair belongs to "Towering Altitude" Winchler.

Wildfire lookout tower caught on fire. Hahaaaa. Fuckers.

'Sup, Twat?

Hey, Baby! Do you know anything about photoshop. I'm stuck on a bad woodcut filter.

"Yes, it's probably a good idea to head home now and beat the rush. There's a storm rolling in."

"That's right, beautiful-- I tried to build a lifeguard stand that would reach all the way to God. So... what say you and me experience some 'confusion of tongues'?"

Can't use it. Forgot to build steps.

"The clouds on this beach are improbably low."

"Which large erection are you referring to?"

It's September 11th, why do you ask?

Sorry, ma'am, no swimming today. There's a smog advisory.

That's the structure that supports the cloud cover. If it collapsed, we'd all be crushed.

"They built that tower first, then, after 9/11, they decided to build this one a little shorter."

"Oh, that? Jeter. Derrick Jeter."

I'm terribly sorry that your son is drowning, but I just ate 10 minutes ago.

"Yes, there is a problem with the ozone layer, but we have a guy working on it."

"Why, I feel perfectly safe between these two huge...What the hey?!"

True, but it's easier for me to stare at your tits from here.

I use . . . where is it, this. SPF 60, and it's got that stuff they put on the popcorn at the Mets games, whaddya call it? Shea butter!

Can I go swimming?

On my nose? Zinc oxide. And (snif) coke.

I wasn't really into swimming as a kid. But do you remember this band called BLOTTO?

OK, let me see if I've got this right. A "caveman" wandered over from the comic strip "B.C.," went into that outhouse, slammed the door shut, stank it up something awful, and apparently wiped his ass with the pages of the Koran? Here are the two biggest things wrong with your story. First, this is the New Yorker, not the New York Post -- we don't carry "B.C." or any strip that Johnny Hart creates, and we never have. Second, though you'd be forgiven for thinking so, this actually isn't the New Yorker CAVEMAN Cartoon (Anti-)Caption Contest, they just got lazy and used caveman scenarios several times over a short period, so no, you don't have to make up stuff about cavemen who don't even appear in the drawing. And finally, you know, I'm not the caveman police, I'm not the outhouse police, I'm not the cartoon p.c. police. I'm just the lifeguard. See what it says right here? "Lifeguard."

(1) "No, I don't know why the giant tower is there. Or where it goes. But its vague, pseudo-intellectual symbolism does keep New Yorker readers coming to this beach."

(2) "You child climbed up the oil derrick and disappeared into the clouds? So what the fuck do you want from me? I only save people from drowning, lady."

(3) "Is that a beach towel under your arm, or are you just happy to see me? Yeah, I know, that made no sense. How about this - nice picnic basket, wanna fuck? No? That doesn't work on you either? Man, I'm really bad at this."

We're shooting a scene for Rescue Me.
Denis Leary's character needs to be rescued from himself as per usual, but the producers thought it would be a daring new twist if he moonlights as a life guard, falls asleep with a live cigarette after consuming an ungodly amount of whiskey and hallucinates he's having a conversation with God.

"Would you like to see my erection set, um, um, I mean my erector set?"

You're in Long Beach, what did you expect?

No, it's a cell tower. The phone company pays us to have it here. Hey, I get off in five minutes, you wanna get a cup of coffee?

OK, let me see if I've got this right. You were in the latrine over there, doing your business, and a man-sized foot swept under the divider and bumped yours, and it was clad not in a sandal but a black wingtip, and by the time you were able to stand and confront the culprit (s)he was gone but had apparently wiped both feces and semen onto pages from the Congressional Record? Lady, I gotta tell ya, your Larry Craig joke is as dated as your control-waist malliot is timeless.

"Beat it, stringbean, I'm strictly meat and potatoes."

"What are you still doing here? I should've let you drown hours ago."

"By the many arms of mighty Vishnu, lady, put on some clothes! We don't cotton to whores here at the Bhopal Big Lake Beaching, Diving, and Tennising Club. But to answer your question no I don't know what that mysterious low-lying green cloud is."

"No dice, Hippie, I never relied on no lamp to grant me wishes before and I ain't gonna start now."

"Yeah. He's putting in a skylight. What are you? Retarded?"

"Sorry I let Billy drown, Mrs. Hanshawe. In my mind I was watching Marty. I love that movie. Anyway, won't happen again. Ha! Whoops. I mean...with any of your other kids. Except maybe Steve."

"No, Miss, you can't go in the water. Not until that shark that looks like a large 'D' and a small 'D' stuck together swims away. And don't even think of going over my head on this."

"Hey, babe! I couldn't help but notice you were staring at my huge erection. Heh heh heh heh. We may be in a woodcut, by MY wood is UNcut, if you know what I mean. Heh heh heh heh."

"I sit here, Miss, in order to ask females like you to leave Double-D beach. Now."

"The tower is there to provide protection from lightning strikes within a radius approximately equal to the highest point of the structure."

"Welcome to 'Chicago,Chicago', Atlantic City's newest gaming property. After your swim in 'Fake-Lake Michigan', go to our nearby skyscraper replica, '2 by 4 Hancock Building' and climb to the observation deck. There you can enjoy panoramic views of our nostalgic display 'Chicago After the Great Fire: Toast of the Midwest.'"

"This is Babel Beach... a designated 'smoking' beach... and this is my lit 'ziggurat'... so... okay, I made my point! Smoking rules! hahaha. I sure went to a lot of trouble and expenses to do it... but ...there! hahaha!"

(apologies to borrowing from the great caption idea of gray nixon)

Me? Go out with you? I feel bad about saying this, but the tower over here has more curves than you do.

"I can't swim, so when someone is in trouble I just tip over the big tower and walk out. Oh, and vini vidi splash-o-leevio."

"It's good to see you back at the Vineyard, Marhta. You lost weight in prison and the rash from your ankle bracelet is almost gone. Now go find a spot away from that orang-utan to your left and I'll come down and talk about getting your 100-ft high billboard off this beach.

Above=Martha

"Look, it's an angelfish kissing a seahorse!"

"This is the low tide tower, that one is for high tide."

"That's the smoking tower; this is the non-smoking tower."

"All, I know lady, is there are no pipes, so it can't be an oil derrick; there are no steps, so it can't be a lifeguard tower. I have to assume it has to do with communications; but I can't see the top, so I really don't know."

This used to be a nude beach, but we had too many mismatched double-D's.

"It's named after the late Senator John Tower. It's called The Tower Tower. From the top you can see our newest project. It's named after Senator Chris Dodd. It's called The Dodd Dam."

Lifeguard imitating Jack Benny: "Well."

"I tell people it's performance art, and they seem satisfied."

"Welcome to Cloudy Beach. This is our cloud making machine."

"Nice rack."

"It's the washington monument. I swear."

"It turns out that God likes it up the Ass."

"What's The New Yorker Cartoon Anti-Caption Contest? It's written on the cloud above you..."

"I built it entirely out of the bones of my slain enemies. Femurs, mostly."

"So you don't think that's the Tower of London and I'm a Beefeater? Well, c'mon up here and I'll show you the Crown Jewels."

"This is so humiliating. It's worse than when I had to wear the trainee badge at McDonald's"

"Yeah, not sure, really. Kathy Griffin came by, built this huge skeletal penis stretching into the sky, and then left, saying, 'Suck it, Jesus.'"

[Apologies to Harry, whom I blatantly ripped off]

"Have you ever wondered who's really 'up there' looking down on us -- it's Kathy Griffin."

Apologies, Kathy Griffin must have been in the ether.

"He can hear you cry for help, but he won't understand you. Ever since he climbed above the cloud its been all gibberish."

"'What is your motivation?' Honey, your motivation is that we're filming a B-movie called 'Beach Blanket Atomic Holocaust,' and you're playing the Last Girl on Earth, and I'm the goddamn director. That's your goddamn motivation. Hey, Special Effects! How long before you guys finish building the mushroom cloud? And I want more corpses on blankets!"

"It's my high(tide) chair."

"No, I can't save your child. I need to make sure this oil drill keeps working."

"Yeah, they built the second lifeguard stand after the shark bit my arms off at the water wings. Now I just sit here and seethe."

"And that other one is so I can expose myself to the entire beach."

"I built a deck on top of the taller one so I can have sex at the beach on cloudy days with hot chicks like you."

"Save your son??? Lady, this is Santa Monica Beach, I'm homeless and got these towers
from Habitat For Humanity, I'm renting out the other one!"

Me? No, I'm just a robber. Jesus is on the one in the middle.

"This is actually a wheelchair. Dave and Joe put me up here. Dave's a real asshole.

"Actually, it's left over from a political cartoon last week. Ask Barzotti, I think it's one of his."

"With this marine layer, you'll need a minimum of 6-8 hours to refresh your tan. You better have Infinite Jest squeezed into that little bag of yours."

"That one's for our sniper. He watches for people pissing in the water. I mean, there's like five outhouses behind me. It's fucking disgusting."

Fog? That's bong hits, sister.

Listen slut, I was't even in on the gang-bang. Why should I have to go up there and get your bikini bottoms?

No beer, no high dive.

"I'm sorry, miss, but rules are rules. No synthetic yoga mats on the beach. They detract from the natural beauty of the place."

"Now that's what I call a tall lifeguard chair!"

"Hang on, honey... *GRRRUNNNT* - I sure wish they'd built some more conventional outhouses here - I don't have *GRRRUNNNT* - time to wait for the guy in the super-tall cloud-obscured toilet to get done."

"OK, so that's a dragon and some kind of canine in the water. Dragons can fly, so the dragon will be OK, but the canine should drown in the next turn, unless it has levitation or magical breathing. Or maybe it's just standing on a single land square - which we can't see, but the next turn will tell us. The dragon could be a problem: given the way you're dressed, your AC can't be very good, and the odds you have an intrinsic resistance to its breath weapon are low. On a big open level like this, running away is pretty pointless, unless you think you can make it to the stairs before the dragon catches up with you. Do you have something useful in your bag? Ring of conflict? Scroll of teleportation and a means of getting confused? Wand of teleportation, maybe? Remember, you should never die with an unused item.

Look, I don't mind explaining all this to you, but you should really read some of the spoiler files, or the newsgroup."

(My apologies - either you've played the game and you'll get the joke, or this will be completely meaningless to you, so just ignore it.)

"On the plus side, from up there you can't see the corpses and turds strewn all over the beach."

Why would I be surprised to see you? Oh I don't know, Tina, maybe because you've gotten back together with your caveman boyfriend. You know that Amber posted the party pictures to her blog, which you subscribed to on my computer. Jeez, you really must think I'm stupider than that . . . fucking Neanderthal. (This is still the caveman cartoon anti-caption contest, right?)

"Oh, that? That's the ladder to the wheelchair and handicap-friendly part of the beach."
--
"Every time we shoot a guy in the face, we get another few levels added to our lifeguard chair. I'm kind of jealous of Cheney over there. Also, every time we make a dated reference, we get a time-out. Oh, wait. Shit."
--
"Oh, that thing? That's our lightning rod. Because of the fact that it's at a higher altitude than any other location on the beach, and because it's made of metal, which is a conductor, it lessens the risk of lightning striking the beach. I'm gay."

"Sorry Mrs. Gore, Al refuses to leave the beach until he finds evidence of global warming in that cloud."

"This isn't Muscle Beach, it's
Erectile Dysfunction Beach for
55 and over!

"That will be 50 bucks for the bungee cord and 200 bucks for cloud removal."

"The wizard will see you now. Climb his exalted tower and when you return, your request to be looking down at a pair of D's will have been granted."

"How did you get to the beach today, ma'am?"
"My hybrid."
"Well, for your information, that hybrid uses fossil fuels, ma'am. So I would suggest you suck it up, and go find yourself a good spot before it gets crowded. And mind the leaks."

Mrs Jonah, I'd recommend that you turn around and wave goodbye to your husband. Looks like he can still see us, but that old, toothless whale's mouth is closing fast.

Can you do me a favor? We've been having a problem with someone stealing random sections of cross-bracing from our towers. The problem is, this platform blocks my view of the tower directly beneath. So if you see anyone down there with a crowbar, give a shout. Normally Sid on the higher tower would keep watch, but his view is obscured by a low-lying cloud layer right now. Of course, I can watch his tower pretty well. I have a clear view of the bottom six segments of it, and if anyone were to attempt to steal from higher up than that, I'd almost certainly see them climbing up there. Now, you might think I would be able to hear the noise or feel the vibrations if someone started removing pieces of the tower I'm sitting on, but you see... oh, never mind, I can tell you're losing interest now.

Ma’am, it pains me to inform you that you have apparently been the victim of a hoax. “Coney Island Whitefish” is not a delicacy of the local cuisine, but is in fact a euphemism for a used condom found along the beach. This would almost certainly explain why the fillet had a somewhat rubbery consistency and why the cream sauce smelled vaguely of kitchen cleanser.

Be careful, ma’am. The posting of a beach-themed contest well after Labor Day seems to have inspired contestants to discard several summers’ worth of old worn-out beach jokes.

No ma’am, this is the New Yorker (Anti-) COVER CONCEPT Contest. You have in fact walked onto the winning entry, which depicts a view of the world as seen from a mile-high lifeguard tower. Apparently it references the towering self-regard of New Yorkers, and a previous “classic” cover concept. Don’t worry about your hair, we’re only the size of specks.

No ma’am, I am not “coming onto you.” Yet. I will be soon, hopefully, as soon as this cloud cover breaks and my solar-powered pneumatic auto-suck device powers up again. The Sharper Image claimed – falsely, I now believe – that the device maintains full power for at least 15 minutes absent direct sunlight. Unfortunately for me, this product cannot be returned under any cicumstances. And while I’m sure you’re flattered to believe that you’re the focus of my onanistic reverie, I am in fact thinking about Jessica Alba, and the commercial for “Good Luck Chuck.” It’s always Jessica Alba. DANE COOK. JESSICA ALBA. “GOOD LUCK CHUCK.” OPENS SEPTEMBER 21.

Ma'am, I'm fairly certain that what you just said is the worst possible thing you or anyone else could have said under our present circumstances.

"Personally, with all the planes that fly by, and terrorism being what it is, I'm glad I have the short tower."

Yes, I suppose it is ironic that the blanket coverage option in Geico’s beachgoers policy doesn’t actually cover beach blankets. To me what’s more ironic is that you only bought the coverage *after* the drowning deaths of your twin sons at this very beach. And that my twin brother, the lifeguard on duty, also drowned trying to rescue them. And that your husband never forgave you and ended the marriage. And that you and I turned to each other in our grief, and ended up marrying. And that now I’m also leaving you, because I can’t forgive you either. But don’t worry about moving onto the next bunch of lives to ruin. Because you’re done now. That bug bite you got just now while you were napping? It was a shot of enough jellyfish poison to kill a whale. Good thing you bought that beachgoers insurance. Good thing I’m your beneficiary. See you in hell, you goddamned bitch. Oh, and speaking of Geico, did you hear that the cavemen from the commercial got their own sitcom? "CAVEMEN." COMING THIS FALL TO ABC. TUESDAY 8 PM EASTERN. PREMIERES OCTOBER 2.

Dear Mr. Buchannon:
I regret to inform you that a week before your wife’s death she changed her designated beneficiary to a Mr. Joel Claybrook.
Sincerely,
Cirroc, Esq.
Geico Underwriting Ltd.

Oh, you said bigger towel! You Japanese and your Rs' for L's. Well your buddy's getting Nagasakied up there, better climb up.

Okay, stay in denial, you jerk. But, to some of us chicks, SIZE does matter.

"Yes, he's just been lying there like that ever since he jumped down from the giant tower. Could you summon help for him? I'm busy making sure the swimmers are safe."

"By 2002, subjects became more and more implausible, and puns became more and more strained. Sales plummeted until, with great sadness in his heart, CEO Jean-Marie Messier made the decision to pull the plug on the Big Johnson T-shirt line."

Still from Ken Burns' "Spencer's Gifts"

"When's she gonna blow? Hell, ma'am, she already blew! We're just waiting for the ejaculation."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but this is a nude beach. I'm going to have to ask you to cum with me."

"It is true that I am a lifeguard, but there is also a greater lifeguard, One who guards the lives of all lifeguards. Even though this Great Lifeguard cannot be seen, I have a deep and abiding faith in His higher presence. Would you like a pamphlet? It's waterproof."

"That's right. It’s the ill-fated lifeguard tower-to-nowhere project."

"Please move out of my line of sight. I’m on duty."

"For some obscure reason I want to call you Didi."

"GENESIS I: 6-8: 'And God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters. And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament: and it was so. And God called the firmament Heaven.' -- That other tower is for people who are drowning in the waters above the firmament."

"I'm going to take legal action to stop your erections,
that ugly metal eyesore is blocking the ocean views from my beach house!"

"Please Hillary, just get one more hot babe on top of that tower, and I promise I'll start working on your campaign!"

"He's saving drowning souls and I keeping an eye out for drowning assholes."

"I use the short tower on days when the cloud cover comes absurdly low in a comedic fashion."

Yes Ma'am you are all flaming idiots for sunbathing in this weather.

Having 2 pot roasts for arms ain't that bad really, I just need taller armrests.

Due to a BS discrimination suit by the ACLU we have been forced to provide sky burial facilities for our Zoroastrian patrons who shun vultures in favor of seagulls.

"Yeah, he may have the better view, but it's appropriate that he's out of chatting range since he's a bit of a social leper.
Anyway- can I get your digits?"

"I actually like being down here. By the time he climbs down from that thing, you'll be moaning for me to throw you a life preserver, if you know what I mean."

"Sorry babe, but with the low clouds it would be a little irresponsible of me to do you up there."

"Yeah, well, it's not Driftwood Beach no longer... so get used to it !"

"Yeah, I get that question.... Jeb's waiting on his license to drill...(unlike some people he don't just do preemptive stuff.)"