October 29, 2007

The New Yorker Cartoon Anti-Caption Contest #120

Submit the worst possible caption for this New Yorker cartoon. Click here for details. Click here to see last week's results.

And don't forget the Thanksgiving anti-cartoon contest (a joint venture, unwitting on their part, with WNYC, so please remember to cross-post in both groups). The bar is already set pretty high (er, low).


"Wha... Where'd the genie go? Well, if he granted my wish, I'm now a big stud. But where's your twelve-inch pianist? Oh, I see. It's in your pants." —mypalmike

With every passing second you spend attempting to mock me, Hasbro gains more mind share. Hahahaha!" —A S. M. Musculus

"[Silence, because potato-head statues don't talk, and the guy at the bar is just quizzically contemplating the odd decor.]" —John Tabin

Honorable mention
"Do you want to know my REAL name or my POTATO name?" —Johnny V

Posted by Daniel Radosh


Just because you have stuck plastic features into your body will not fool anyone into thinking you are a potato, Mr. Giant Turd.

It was horrible. They said it was a simple operation...but those docs just looked like a bunch of crazy kids to me. I should have known...I blame myself, I do. I took her in and the next thing you know she had giant nose sticking out of her ass, and a pair of lips on her head. I'll never forgive myself (sob, sniffle). Bartender, another drink...

I thought I saw Monica Lewinsky in here earlier. Do you know where she went?

“I’m really starting to wonder about this bar.”

“Pomme de Terre . . . . . is that French?”

“So, is there a Mrs. Potato Head?”

POTATOHEAD: Do they serve potatoes in here?
GUY: They serve anyone, sir.
POTATOHEAD: Really? because i don't see anyone behing the bar.

"So then this guy in a haz-mat suit says, 'do you ever get that feeling that you left something on'. Next thing you know, I'm a vegetable."

"I loved you in the tailpipe scene in 'Beverly Hills Cop'! You're a lot bigger in person, unless of course they built a gigantic tailpipe just for that scene. Let me buy you a drink."

Sorry, pal. I honestly thought it was a traffic cone that I ran over with my car. I had no idea it was your prosthetic schlong.

"Veni vidi help-I'm-being-held-prisoner-in-a-
veni-vidi-vici-joke-factory o-leevio!"

POTATOHEAD: "This spud's for you"? Seriously? What are you, a New Yorker cartoon caption writer?

GUY: The bartender is gone, along with everything behind the bar except those two two taps.
POTATOHEAD: I see that. I have EYES, you know!

"The potato blight here is obscene."

"If I stop blinking, call an ambulance. It means I've slipped into a persistent vegetative state."

"Wasn't your nose of the other side of your head yesterday?"

"Hi, I'm Mike from Ohio. You must be Larry from Idaho."

My wife picked up a carrot in the grocery store. It's pretty much made me obsolete in the bedroom.

Not only am I potato, but I'm also mildly retarded.

"Why the long face?"

"Actually, I'm doing guerilla marketing for Jerkov Vodka."

"Is it baking in here or is it me?"

"Stop staring at my jacket."

"They say the eyes are the mirrors to the soul. Mine are actually buttons from an old suit."

GUY: I'm having a vodka gimlet why?
POTATOHEAD: Are you even aware of the genocide going on in Russia? Or do you think the Potato Pogrom is a Rachel Rae 30 minute meal?

"OK, I'm Prince Charles. Was it the ears. Did they give me away again?"

"During Passover, observant Jews do not imbibe spirits distilled from grain. Look on that vodka bottle: it says 'neutral grain spirits.' Very few brands of vodka are distilled only from potatoes."

"What? Just because I have a big nose and a hat, you assume I'm Jewish? Well, in this case you're correct, but that's still pretty racsist."

make that "racist"

"So it's agreed. I kill your wife, and you kill Mrs. Potato Head. Criss-cross!"

"...And at these prices, you won't see many more! Hey, come back here, I'm talking to you!"

"Please, call me 'Potato Head.' 'Mister' sounds so formal."

Ok, guess who I am now, "It's not a tuber".

"Do you ever have a dream where you're being taunted by mean kids threatening to 'rearrange your face'?"

"Sorry I'm late. I had to put my face on."

"Do you have any weed? I want to get baked tonight."

For the last time, No, I don't know Frylock!

You're still irate at Dan Quayle for mis-spelling your name? It's been fifteen years!

Damn this war on terror. My son's in Iraq and yours gets made into freedom fried. Damn this war!


(damn this war)

"Maybe so, but you haven't had head until you've had potato head."

“I just wish for once a woman would try to get me in the sack.”

"Actually, it's pronounced 'Po-tah-to.'"

Is the bartender here? And aren't we supposed to be termites?

"Since she went on Atkins, my wife won't eat me."

"'It's not you, it's me,' she said. 'My doctor told me I have to cut carbs!' Cut carbs, my ass! A week later, I saw her having a pack of Burger King fries her way!"

"Wanna see me drink through my forehead? Okay, watch close. It's pretty painful, so I only do it once a night."

"Hear about these new staph infections? Pretty scary -- especially when you have as many openings on your body as I do."

"I'll tell you, mister, if these lips could talk . . . or move. Or weren't upside down. . "

"Long story short, 'Toy Story 3' went straight to video, the Mrs. had to have a bowler removed from her ear, we lost the house, and here I am."

"Only two beers on tap? What a lame goddamn bar."

All I'm sayin', if a Reggie Miller un-retirement can seem plausible, then why not Scottie Pippen? Why not?

The head honcho of Nickelodeon told me straight up: if some cavemen from an ephemeral ad campaign can land a series, a brand name like you is a no-brainer.

Yeah? Well I fucked your mom in the ass, and nine months later YOU came out. How ya like that?

"The liquid barometers behind us, the the panels into hidden compartments, the bizarely tiny beer selection, and, well, YOU - this is easily the freakiest goddamn bar I have ever been in. No offense, mister swizzle-stick."

"I gotta say, this is the first time I've seen someone of your type - you know, a Mr. Potato Head with mittens. I mean... what the fuck?"

"I told her I just wanted a little head, but..."

"I was the prototype for the anatomically correct Mr. Potato Head, but seven kids choked to death on the little dicks and I was done."

"I think, therefore I yam."

"Yeah, I always stop in for a stiff one before I go trick-or-treating."

"That's the bartender lying there, murdered by a shotgun blast. Luckily, he was able to write the name of his killer in blood there on the bar."

In a tragic and ironic misunderstanding, the plastic surgeon thought I said, "Make her look like julienne more".

I'm all ears. Oh, and eyes.

Do you find me appealing?

There's a stool up my ass.

I'm thinking of enlisting.

"I'm supposed to be Amy Winehouse. What? Not Jewy enough?

"I'm supposed to be Amy Winehouse. What? Not Jewy enough?"

"Say, it was a banana in the tailpipe in 'Beverly Hills Cop'. Not a potato in the tailpipe. I never thought a banana would be big enough to stall a car, so I mentally projected a potato. You accepted a drink from me on false pretenses, damn you!"

I've heard of the giant potato (Ipomoea mauritiana), but this is ridiculous! What? Oh yes, there is such a thing! You can look it up on Wikipedia.

"So, what do you think of my Obama costume?"

'S'matter, Mr. Head? Got a banana in your tailpipe?

By the time she came to the door, her nose was where her ear should be, her hat was in her eye hole — she was a mess ... I'm certain she's fucking the turnip.

You get the other ten grand after you've torched the Pringles factory.

"It was in Paris in the '20's. They'd all get wasted on absinthe, put on blindfolds and play Pin the Features on the Potatohead. Then Picasso would paint me, he called it cubism or something, but I never saw a dime from that skinflint little Spaniard."

"Yeah, so A-Rod fires his agent -- that Scott Boros guy -- and he rings me up and asks if I can represent him. I mean, that's pretty amazing, right?!"

"So, after I bought this hat I said 'I guess there's some nifty ledenhosen in my future.' "

"Yeah, I got this part-time gig at the Eye, Ear and Throat Hospital."

"I got some feelers out for a mid-season replacement -- Dancing With The Spuds."

"Wha... Where'd the genie go? Well, if he granted my wish, I'm now a big stud. But where's your twelve-inch pianist? Oh, I see. It's in your pants."

"Can I get a basket of fries? I'm famished."

"I think I'm gay. Turns out sexual dimorphism in potatoes is entirely in the head wear."

"I'm a fucking russet potato, not a black face Yukon Gold! Now who's the racist, bitch?"

"Have you seen a plastic penis marked Hasbro™ around here?"

"I never was much good at sports."

"Hey pal,

Do you think you could switch my ear with one of my eyes? I don't trust that guy in clown makeup on my left."

"How'd you'd like to be worth something only if you could find your BOX?"

POTATOHEAD: Bonjour monsieur. J'habite dans le région Rhône-Alpes.

GUY: I've heard of Potatoes Lyonnaise, but this is ridiculous!

POTATOHEAD: Vous vous appellez Guy, c'est juste?

I don't want to panic you, my tuberous friend, but isn't that a mob of starving Irishmen headed this way?

You know, I've read Lovecraft, and I have to say, you rugose cones are a lot less intimidating in real life.

POTATOHEAD: It's tough being a potato. The chips are always down for me.

POTHEAD: Duuuude! You have potato chips?!

"[Silence, because potato-head statues don't talk, and the guy at the bar is just quizzically contemplating the odd decor.]"

"As your personal physician, I must inform you that you have only 45 minutes to live, wrapped in foil in a 425 degree oven."

"You are so hot."

"The ladies love me and my box of attachments."

Lend me your ear?

"Y'know, Fred, I gotta say, you were right - this is easily the largest harmonica in the world. It won't bother you if I lean on it while you play, will it?"

"I mistook you for the banana in the banana-in-the-tailpipe scene, not the charming police officer. No hard feelings I hope. Man these 'tinis are making me all robbly reebly roobly. Let me buy you a drink!"

"She keeps on rambling on about lead concentrations and Chinese factories and parts per million. It's not worth it. I'd rather just find a hooker."

A composted mixture of manure and straw. Why do you ask?

"I've never walked in here without the pollock before -- what now?"

"I'm a bar stool -- get it? a bar stool."

"Yeah, you're Jenkins from all those other Cheney cartoons. Do you actually DO anything for a living?"

"Oh... for a minute I thought you said, "What a SPUD!"

"Yeah, I know how you feel. When I read what Radosh picked for last week's winner my head nearly exploded. Anyway, more suds, spud?"

(PS: This is actually being written by al in la who is, swear to Buddha, in Hangzhou China covering a conference.)

"Sometimes I think the only reason you love me is your dismemberment fetish."

"Ocean sunfish, Mola mola, sure, whatever. Just don't call me late for dinner! Ha! Or Mr Potato Head, I hate that. Also, how are you alive underwater?"

"So I killed her. Just like that. My own grandmother. fuckin' A."

"Have you ever wondered if there's delicious life anywhere else in the universe?"

"My therapy isn't working."

"Y'know, I don't know how to put this, pal, but... you're turning into your mother."

My kids have a toy that looks just like you.

Just like the Holocaust, your Potato Famine never happened, buddy.

My wife, Julienne, regrettably isn't with us any longer.

Guy: "Hangzhou."
Mister Potato Head: "God bless you."

"That Greenwich Village Halloween Parade: A tad too gay for my taste."

"I failed at both tryouts - Pocatello Potatoes and Sun Valley Spuds, and now I just don't know what I am going to do."

"I'm sorry, I know it's rude, but I can't reach my hat to take it off."

"It had nothing to do with the fact you were born a potato. Look, your mom and I were just a couple of stupid college kids when she became pregnant with you. I panicked! But that was over sixteen years ago. I'm a different man now, with my own family to think about. I mean, I'm sorry you drove over 300 miles just to find me, but . . . please don't show up like this again."

"God I need a drink. My wife and fingerlings are driving me nuts."

"My whole family treats me like I'm persona au gratin."

"If he's got big ears... you know...", "if he's got a big nose...", "if he's got a big head..." Remembering all those expressions, Mr. Johnes wondered if it was really worth it.

Please get your foot off of me, Senator Craig.

"The whole potato vodka thing has really been a bit of a red herring."

"Nice hat, Smokey."

I'm Bill Gates and I have more potatoes than anyone else on this planet, but they are green with human faces!


"Well I sho' do appreciate this, miss'r Jenkins sir! I was jus' thinkin' 'bout how thirsty I was, an' how a pint'd go down right smooth, when along you comes an' take pity on me! God bless you, sir, God bless you."

"Mayor Russet, you will not be getting my vote on Election Day, I'm tired of your half baked ideas and mishmash of failed policies and broken promises."

Van Gogh get me a right ear why dontcha?
Can you ear me now?
Can you ear me NOW?!

"With every passing second you spend attempting to mock me, Hasbro gains more mind share. Hahahaha!"

Yes sir, I DO think you are ready for this jelly!

As Gregor Samsa awoke one afternoon from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed at the bar into a gigantic potato.

(with apologies to Rubrick, above, and Kafka)

You choose to:
Admonish the potato man about the dangers of alcohol (turn to page 42).
One by one, yank each of his facial features out of his head, knowing he can't defend himself with those ridiculous arms. You experience an toxicating and highly sexual sense of power. (Turn to page 87).
Help the potato man escape the Irish terrorists via the underground, while wondering to yourself why a potato needs your help to find the underground (turn to page 13).

"If you see Luther Burbank tell him he's got a lot to answer for."

"How do you know which potato is the prostitute? It's the one that says, I-da-ho! Get it? Or, it's the one who's your mom! Ha! Burned!"

"Pink elephants were bad enough, but a giant potato wearing a top hat?! That's it, I'm quitting drinking."

"Hi there, beautiful. Come here often?"

"I like vodka cuz it tastes like mommy."

Cue music:

Potatohead: "I think we're alone now... there doesn't seem to be anyone around... i think we're-"

Man: "I'm not gay."

"Jesus Christ, I am so totally baked."

"Ever since I got bit by that radioactive potato, I've come to realize that with great power comes great responsibility. And that I have neither."

"I only have eyes for the Mrs., but once you get them off me, these tight, moist, potatoey sockets crave cock."

"So, what you're telling is that this Edward Hopper
guy ain't showing up until tonight?!"

"I'll be right back. I gotta go 'drop a chip.'"

"Don't worry about it, Agent Brady. I don't need your 'witness protection program.' As soon as I testify, I'll disappear completely. By tomorrow, Big Nicky himself won't recognize me."

"I get that you're happily married, but I've got no problem being here for you as a little something on the side."

"Ahhh, what's the use. They're not giving out humorous novels to the winners this week, anyway."

"X out comment spam by typing the first letter of this sentence here."

"Have you ever, EVER actually heard somebody say 'po-TAH-to'? No. See?"

Aw, you're just trying to butter me up.

"Do you want to know my REAL name or my POTATO name?"

"The name is Spuds... Spuds McKensie... I guess you were expecting a dog, huh? Sorry... and, by the way, the Budweiser frogs are gone, too. Reality sucks, doesn't it, buddy?!"

"Okay... you get smashed and I get mashed. Not funny?! How about...You get high and I get fried?! Wait, I have another... I get baked and you get wasted."

"Bad news... I have a malignant tuber!"

"ˇViva el Papa! Er,...la Papa? Lo siento, cabrón, lo siento."

"I said I can buy my own drinks. One step closer and I scream 'potato rape.'"

"I'm sorry your wife doesn't understand you. Does she also stick a fucking fork in you?"

"And not only that, it hurts when I pee. Fucking tramp."

Well I'm just saying, there's only the two of us, and mine smell like a McDonald's bag that's been festering under your car seat for a few months. THAT, my dear fellow, smells like poop.

"Idaho! IDAHO! Udaho, asshole!"

My wife, Julienne, was brutalized by Ron Popeil.

You're a real Dick tater.

"So I say, What's so gross about that? and he says, He put it in his mouth but it's supposed to go on your ass! and I say, Well was it? and he says, Was it what? and I say On somebody's ass? and he says, No he squeezed it right out of the tube onto his toothbrush! and I say, So it was just Vaseline basically, and he's all, But it's supposed to go on your ass! and that was when I just called the whole thing off."

So this writer's strike is a good thing, right? I mean, without quality television, the public will have to turn back to print media for amusement. Heh-heh, I said "quality television". How droll.

"My interests are handled by the US Trade Representative Susan Schwab."

"...but, alas, not every tuber can play the tuba."

I brought a couple of tater tots. Do you mind?

What does a potato have to do to get some fucking service in here?

OK, I have a skin condition. Can you quit fucking staring?

"(Sigh...) Do you know how long it's been since a kid put a peg up my tuchus??"

"So I admit that maybe I got a bit loud and obnoxious at the Kerry speech. But when those campus cops started to rough me up, I just screamed 'Don't taze me Hasbro!'."

so then three Mr. Bacon-Heads bukakke'd bacon salt all over me, anyway, I'm starting my own camwhore site.

so what i really need is a tail, if you know what i mean...

This bartop is so clean, I could probably slide my beer to you like in the movies.

"So...How 'bout a little head?"

"Stop me if you'v heard this one before. Some sour cream, some butter and some chives walk into a bar..."

"My wife left me for a guy with more phthalate."

"You're not from around here are you, Jenkins?"

"I think I liked you better as a giant rabbit."

“Your hat is out of style. Don’t you have a visor cap? That would be much more in line with what the people wear today. It would help you to blend in better.”

"So, tell me the truth, is Ken gay?"

"Come on, Dan. It's late. Time to go home and pick a winner."

"Animal,Vegetable... oh,and Mineral Water." "Irish underworld-- what's it to you ?!" "...so when granddad emigrated them Irish was in for it !"

"Germans shout 'hey, carbohydraty' at me, but well, you know the educational system here in America."

"So after I caught my wife cheating, I came right out and asked her how many others there had been and she said, 'One potato -Two potato - Three potato - Four.....'"

"You say 'alcoholic', I say "potato'--let's call the whole thing off."

Scrub me, peel me, throw me in the pot.

"S-M-I-R-N-O-F-F,Smirnoff ! Hey, that's the guy made off with me poor dear 'granny' !"

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