April 28, 2008

The New Yorker Cartoon Anti-Caption Contest #144

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


"Cod... sea bass... flounder... orange roughy... sex with my mother -- I mean, Arctic char..." —kejo

"...and as a fireman, I'm totally perplexed. Shouldn't I be haunted by images of charred, coughing infants? What I wouldn't give some days to be haunted by images of charred, coughing infants! But no. Fish. Weird." — J

"What do you call a fish with no eyes? Fsh. What do you call a psychiatrist with no eyes. You!" [lunges at psychiatrist] —Mo Buck

Honorable mention
 No bubble is coming out from their mouths, they can't be talking. —Noland

(No one is talking. They are drowned and dead. Dead people don't talk nor do people underwater.) —Jimby

"You're right Bob, these psychiatrist's office tank ornaments are way better than that stupid treasure chest that just opened and closed, and opened and closed, with bubbles." —Adam G

"The telekinesis began when I was little. Only recently did I start using my powers to control fish." —Harry

“That is one big fucking screensaver you got here, doc!” —dwilk

"Arrr...I've smoked too much California weed." —Anonymous

"And how does that make you [i]eel[/i]?" —Jangler

Posted by Daniel Radosh


Ever since that day on the Pequod, I've been haunted by the vision of that small, white halibut -- known by the name of Moby Choad.

I keep thinking that I should have stayed in school. And you appear to have a shitload of fish floating in your office.


I see dead fish...

Do you see them now?

How long? Well, I guess it all started when I fell into that hole in the ice...

"Pisces. Why?"

I'm trying to relax, but to tell you the truth, this reminds me of that time I went to marriage counseling...

You know those magical realism dream sequences on TV when people explore their psyche? Well, my dreams are fucking boring.

Glug glug glug

"I'm thinking about coming out of the locker."

"So she's all 'Hey, fishdick!' and I'm all 'You mean "fish-stick,"' and she's all 'no.'"

"My wife sleeps with the fishes."

"Nice air-freshener."

"I think you may have a conflict of interests on your hands, Dr. Paul."

"The hours here are 50 minutes."

(No one is talking. They are drowned and dead. Dead people don't talk nor do people underwater.)

"I don't know, Doc. I keep smelling pussy."

When I was a beekeeper, it was bees.

"You don't see fish floating in the air do you? Because if not, I think we need to talk about changing my medication."

"Strange thing, Doc. I'm a banker."

What the hell is "obsessive koi-pulsive" disorder?

Well that just makes sense that all the ichthys would be rapture ready.

"Each one that I've killed still haunts me, Doc. I see them everywhere. Yet I can't stop doing it. When I catch one and then see it flop and struggle to live: the gills flapping uselessly, the eyes bulging ... I actually experience an erotic charge and a.. a release. That's my life: catch and release, catch and release. And then the haunting; that's the part I want to stop."

"I feel like the only time I can open up is when I'm under this whimsical shower curtain."

"Stop looking up. You can't see them, only I can. Unless you can see them, in which case, why am I here?"

(by the way, the caption entered by "John" 11:19 was mine also. I was going to post it at #:16, but i screwed up)

You're right Bob, these psychiatrist's office tank ornaments are way better than that stupid treasure chest that just opened and closed, and opened and closed, with bubbles.

Witness Mr. Ishmael Bemis, a charter member in the fraternity of fishermen. A swarthy little man whose passion is the sea but who is conspired against by a boat captain and a mackerel and a world full of tongue-cluckers and the unrelenting hands of a clock. But in just a moment Mr. Bemis will enter a world without boat captains or mackerels or clocks or anything else. He'll have a world of fish all to himself, without anyone except a bearded psychiatrist.
The best laid plans of mice and men and Ishmael Bemis, the small man in fisherman's regalia who wanted nothing but time. Ishmael Bemis, now just a part of a smashed landscape, just a piece of the rubble, just a fragment of what man has deeded to himself. Mr. Ishmael Bemis in the Twilight Zone.

Teddy Kagan discovers the red herring that begins it all, and The Rapture approaches in

The Tenth Fish

(singing) Fish heads, fish heads, roly-poly fish heads, fish heads, fish heads, eat them up, Yum!

I can't get that song out of me head, doc!

1, 2, red, blue. So what? Tell me, Seuss, are you even a real doctor?

"One fish, two fish,
white fish, white fish, white fish, white fish, white fish, white fish, white fish, white fish, white fish, white fish, white fish, white fish,
white fish, white fish, white fish, white fish, white fish, white fish
white fish, white fish,
white fish, dead white fish,
white fish."

I'm Catholic fisherman but I didn't attend mass often. My troubles started at my last confession when the priest said "My son, your fins will find you out".

"Judging from your choice of office decor, Dr. Martin, I think you have some real issues to work through."

[Note to JohnnyB: The verse John 11:19 is the one about the loaves and fishes, right?]

"Something smells fishy around here."

"Fuck you, I'm paying $110 bucks an hour, so you can listen to my fucking fish tails."

"Doc, your idea about countin' fishes to get to sleep...well, it ain't workin'."

"You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns
When they all come down and did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain't no good
You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you."

"Y'know ever since the ice caps melted and we've learned to breathe underwater, the fishing trade has really died off. There's millions of the fuckers about now and you can just grab one from in front of you. It's getting me stressed Doc."

"I said I gotta take a piss! Visualize that, muthafucka.

"It all started when I had sex with Abe Vigoda."

They all slept with Luca Brazi.

"I don't know, Doc. I keep smelling Pussy."

"I thought I ordered the vichy


"That print is fucking trite."

"Tell me more about the Gorton's Fisherman you see lying on the couch...and Felix, please stop wiggling your ass in my face."

"Doc, I got a rubber fetish, but I don't want to move to Akron."

"Because, without them, Doc, this outfit makes no sense."

"Grouper. In Jamaica they call them Jewfish. Go figure."

I just feel that I'm, well, floundering. Odd because these aren't flatfish.

"This obsession follows me wherever I go, doc, I can't shake it. I see it everywhere. Look - even the number of decorative fish you have cluttering this office... 23! Another 23!"

"Doc, you've got to help me! I am no longer able to see the fish that float through the air!"

"Once again I am reminded that I work for scale."

"Wow, you were right. After helping you hang all these Finding Nemo chotchkies for your daughter's birthday party, I totally don't want to kill myself anymore. Not!"

Yes I agree you're part of a dying breed much like the roof top antennas immortalized in the painting above you. Nonetheless we're making progress. I count about 30 fewer fish this week.

"What is it, Doc? Are you some sort of poor man's Alexander Calder?"

"One of them is dead, already, doc; and one of them is dying. And when they are all dead, then I will die, too. Can you help me, doc?"

"We're gonna need a bigger room."

"You see them? You see them? You see the things that float and flop about you and through you every moment of your life? You see the creatures that form what men call the pure air and the blue sky? Have I not succeeded in breaking down the barrier; have I not shown you worlds that no other living men have seen?"

" ... Look, look, curse you, look... it's just over your left shoulder..."

"How long? Since "OVERBOARD" in 1987.Fucking Goldie Hawn Fish ARE everywhere!"

"Actually, doc, these are much better than the inky, jellyfish monstrosities I was seeing before. I think the therapy is finally working."

This? Oh this is from when I stupidly spilled some of Goldie Hawn's collagen into a pack of Goldfish crackers.


“The docks don’t pay shit for an imaginary catch.”

On the other hand, I haven't had to buy any imaginary cat food for my imaginary cat for a couple of weeks.

Face it, Doc. We're just a couple of jokers who need a shave. Hey, did you notice that all these fish have lips?

Next the SHOCKING details as DATELINE records therapy sessions as seen from the point of view of Osteoglossum, the world's most expensive aquarium fish.

The juxtaposition of me, a first generation under educated man who toils at physical labor for a living, alongside you, a professional over educated snoot who doesn't get his hands dirty even when wiping his ass with single-ply, should be funny enough. But in true New Yorker hyper-hip fashion, there is a superfluous overlay of cartoon fish shoved down the readers' throats in a feeble attempt at ramping up the absurdity. You figure it out. I'm sick of dealing with all the BS.

This image has been photoshopped. How can I tell? First, look at the pixelation surrounding each fish, and you'll see that the colors are far too uniform to be natural. The lines on the edges of the wall and the door, for example, seem to just disappear wherever there's a fish. Secondly, compare the shading on the legs of the couch and the chair. You'll notice that there are two different and incompatible light sources. Nice try, Stevens-- go fuck yourself.

"I see you had M. C. Escher do the wall treatments and carp-eting. Nice touch."

“That is one big fucking screensaver you got here, doc!”

Arrr...I've smoked too much California weed.

"I don't know why I did it, Doc. Just the halibut, I suppose."

CORRECTION: "I don't know why I did it, Doc. Just for the halibut, I suppose."

"If I were a fisherman... and you were my lady..."

Look, they're all the same.

Cod... sea bass... flounder... orange roughy... sex with my mother -- I mean, Arctic char...

"I need chicken more than want chicken and I want chicken for all time..."


I can't be happy unless they're happy, and since they are fish, and effectively retarded - or unable to develop complex emotions in any event - I don't know how to make them happy. I didn't actually think you could help, but I really needed to talk to someone, anyone, that doesn't speak mainly in nautical puns.

Just write "fish," doc, the species doesn't matter.

Arrr, I had been pourin' me heart out to me sweetheart, the fair Melusina, only to find out that she'd not been listenin' to a word I'd said, she'd only been drawin' pitchers o' sea critters in 'er notebook, she 'ad. She was hallucinatin', she was.

"Do you savor the fruits of the deep? Then why not enjoy one of our fine seafood restaurants." -Time Out Berlin

One fish makes you larger, and one fish makes you small. And the ones that mother gives you, I caught 'em in my trawl. Go ask Alice, when she's tied to my anchor chain, drowning.

Fuck these fucking fish and fuck you, doc.

That's the best you can come up with, "because you're missing Annette"? Seriously, that's the best you can do? Besides, her name's Betty.

Since someone else already noticed there are 23 fish, I'm phoning in my all-purpose cop-out anti-caption:

This virtual reality is really amazing! If it weren't for

    all these incongruous floating fish
I'd swear we were really
    in a psychiatraist's office
rather than strapped to the wall, being mechanically masturbated every six hours, in a nightmarish post-apocalyptic future.

They're completely harmless. They just wander in from time to time, look around, and try to imitate humans. It's kinda cute, actually. But if it bothers you that much, Goldie, just swim around him.

"So..., should I throw them back?"

Francis: As for the fish that float through the air, actually, exactly the same number of fish are floating in either direction (not including the conversing duo). Oh, and furthermore, a ninety degree turn would send them perpindicular to all other floaters! Did you mean a 180 degree turn?

"What can I tell you Doc...It's like flys to dog shit."

"The only ones that bother me are the three that never leave my pants."

"...and as a fireman, I'm totally perplexed. Shouldn't I be haunted by images of charred, coughing infants? What I wouldn't give some days to be haunted by images of charred, coughing infants! But no. Fish. Weird."

"And if people can no longer have faith in something as basic and constant as gravity, how might I ever convince them to trust me, The Gorton's Fisherman, again?"

"Pardon me, doc, but why do all these fish have nigger-lips?"

" What the CARP you think they are, doc ?!......1) Git along little pogies,git along. 2)I am taking you to market, git along. 3) Hiyah, git along, you pogies...."

"... chained to a radiator until my father came home, and if he was already drunk then he'd get out the ... hey, are you listening to me?"

"I don't know how I can make my nightmare (of global warming) any more explicit to you, doc."

"... chained to a radiator until my father came home, and if he was already drunk then he'd get out the ... Oh, look, fish!"

"Go on, doc. Count ! It's always 23....that's the unsettling part....your bill..........my I.Q. ?"

Doctor: "Would you quit your goddam carping?"

"The fugu here are obscene."

"Pussy's fine, man, but right now I'm swimming in tail, and it feels so good."

" 1) Oh, thar is a pleasant mar'ner, 2) And he quaffeth one in three ! 3)By my salt' short beard, doc, 4) How therefore chargeth thou me ? 5) Oh, thar's...... "

Veni, vidi, mahi mahi-o-leevio!

[sorry, Chris]

Seriously, they're just fish hanging from fishing line. But if you have to "sketch" them, go ahead. Whatever floats your boat, dude. Just shut the fuck up already-- I'm trying to take a nap. And, I swear, if I hear your fat lips smacking on any more cake-- God! Just look at you, you fat fuck. You got chocolate all over your face.

"The conditions here are piscene!"

"Carp e diem?!? I already TRIED that!"

"I spy with my little eye... something that lives in the ocean!"

"This has got to be the most UNCOMFORTABLE couch I have ever laid on... and I have laid on some pretty bad couches in my life!"

"Turn up the air conditioning... My God the humidity in here! Wait, should it be turn UP the air conditioning or turn DOWN the air conditioning? I always seem to get it wrong."

" and to top it off, my wife complains that I bring my work home with me...!"

"That one is named Phineas. And THAT one is named Oscar!"

"I think you misunderstood, doctor. I said that the visions began after I lost Annette, Rod, and Bob off the side of my boat. Those were the names of my children."

There it is again, doc. Do you smell something, you know, a little FUNNY?

(Carp! I didn't see therblig's Annette one!)

"Po'try's fine, doc, but right now you're 'scimming' tales--The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner, for one !"

No bubble is coming out from their mouths, they can't be talking.

"They come from the tiny bit of water I take with my scotch. Also, my sons are dead, now you shall be my son."

"I never though something could be like REALLY beige, you know?"


"I never thought something could be like REALLY beige, you know?"

"This sure is a whale of a problem."

"The telekinesis began when I was little. Only recently did I start using my powers to control fish."

"At least it's better than when I was a stripper."

“Uh, just checking, but you DO have one of them invisible-string mobiles in here, don’t you. Doc?”

“Well, actually, the guy told me to go to ‘the dock,’ but you know how it is with homophones. Anywho, since I’m already here, might as well try to deal with that whole ‘fish thing’…”

“Allegory, schmallegory – we’re just both dead, aren’t we, Doc?”

"Huum ? 'Hookers' ?.... Carp ? Hey, I think you just could have something there, 'Freud' !....Yeah ! I have been known to go with a dock-side tramp, or two....them or your occasional cheap 'Inflatable Whore' !.... Well, shiver my timbers !"

" 'Minimalist' pencil-and-ink sketch; disciple-of- Calder 'mobile' ! Hell, you must be fairly rolling in dough, doc ?! ........Oh my God !... There, you see !.... Speaking in tongues again !... What the 'sam hill' I know of art ?! .... Voices !.... I still got 'pro bono' status, right, doc ?"

"I hollowed them out and filled them with helium. Happy Birthday! Arrrrrr."

"I asked them to walk me home. I feel safer traveling in numbers."

"Don't eat the aqua blue acid."

"I don't want to live in a world without Don Knotts."

In fact, there's one about to take a massive dump on you riiiight ... now.

Focus on me, Group. There is no Gorton's Fisherman on my couch. It's a BASS hallucination. Ha Ha. I mean MASS hallucination sprung from your collective fear of being consumed. I'm sorry about my feeble attempt at levity, and to tell you the truth, I don't know what kind of fish you guys are - Bass, Carp, Trout, or Panda Dwarf Cichlid - it doesn't matter to me. I love all fish. Let's have sex!

"Say, look ! I know this fellow a few weeks back, has him an acquarium but no fish, see ! Weird ! So, look, how about I put him and you together, work somethin' out ? ....Marriage Counselor guy ! ....Of course I could be mad...."

"These can't be my children! I think Ariel was cheating on me."

"They call me 'dirty fish fucker,' but I always clean them first."

"My telekinesis is stuck."

"That's some pretty impressive trompe l'oeil you got going on there, doc -- or as we like to call it on the sea, 'sneaky paint.'"

"Unbutton my collar, for the love of god! I can't breathe, my face is turning blue, and I'm starting to hallucinate!"

My name is Ish and I love blowfish. Does that qualify as a sexual fetish?

"If the Federal and State government had only spent more wisely on critical maintenance of our urban infrastructure, we the residents of the Lower 9th ward would possess a much greater sense of security. In my opinion."

"I think my fish are indifferent to me."

As the waning crescent moon looks down upon the carnage of the dinner party rent asunder by the suicide bomber a sketch artist called in to do a visual interpretation of the flatulence of Gorton Of Gloucester sketches himself into the rendering looking up and wondering what the fuck that guy was trying to tell us in semaphore and why the empty aquarium.

"I see them. I see them all the time. Just terrible what happened to those fish. But, I was just following orders. You agree,don't you?"

"And so they called him...and this is great...the Soup Nazi! It was everywhere, doctor, how have you not seen that?"

"It's my band, doc! Pike and Tuna Turner, Salmon Dave, Anchovy Newley, Walleye Ingram..."

I've been internalizing, I feel cowardly, and can't seem to remember anything - absorbent, yellow, and porous is me.

I'm sorry Dr. Monroe I just don't see how all these helium filled, fish-shaped balloons will help me overcome my desire to alway dress like a fireman

"Doc, sometimes I just feel like a decoration in an overcrowded aquarium. Don't you ever feel that way?"

"I don't need them to disappear, but would it kill them to smile"

"Hey, Doc, I just had an idea. Get me Pepperidge Farm on the line, will ya?"

"What subway line did I take to get here? Why the Arrrrrrrrrrrr, of course."

"Don't worry- most shark attacks happen in less than three feet of water; but you do kinda look like a seal."

"Oooh ! I shall g'down to the sea again, To a scalloped ship and the sky ; And all I risk is the slap o' quips, While my slabs o' fish on fry !----Oooh ! I shall g'down to th.. "

And how does that make you [i]eel[/i]?

"Fusilli! You crazy bass turd!"

"Yeah? Well, you look like James Lipton!"

"How come you never ask me about my mother?"

"One of us must really be
baked because my doctor told me to lay off the
Freud fish."

"Red light!"

"Golly, I like this game ! See ? Fish...cod...species...odd pieces...codpieces...rod pie.......uh, let's go back...FISH...."

"It isn’t just the amount of fish in the cartoon, either. Between my pose, makeup, hair and expression, the overall effect can be seen as a calculated effort to suggest salty-ness."

(HT: the WSJ)

ARR...it's this crazy sea-faring accent! I CUNT control it! Being from suburban Detroit it's A HORRIBLE embarrassment...Arr...ya see there it goes again with ARR every time I open my mouth! ARRRR!!!

"All I can tell you is, be careful what you wish for. ... You're gonna want to lose that carpet, by the way."

How many fish does it take to change a light bulb? None because they never pay their electric gill.

" How long! Ever since my wife went fishing with 8 men, and came home with a red snapper. "

"Man, fuck your wallpaper."

"No, I won't call you 'Doctor' anymore. This is the worst foreplay idea ever and I'm already on a bad trip."

"I envy the normal people with their respective angel and devil on each shoulder to duke out the metaphysical battles that come upon them. All I have are these endless fish, too busy gasping for oxygen to divulge any significant moral advice."

"In contrast, a realistic outlook proposes that a gruff fisherman like myself would reject the liberal concept of psychotherapy!"

"Give a man a fish and he'll eat for a day. Teach a man to hallucinate..."

"It smells like tuna."

"And it appears that I'M wearing the poopie-suit this time, doctor"

"No, Doc. What the hell is ick theology?"

"Do you think its a Freudian school, doctor?"

"And when the hit wears off, the fish go away and I take 'er off autopilot and prepare for landing. Nobody gets hurt, and on the plus side, I never have to pay your bill."

"Sandy Skoglund. Sandy Skoglund. Sandy Skoglund. I just can't get her out of my head."

I feel like I'm a such "white sucker" for coming to see you. Mind if I "perch" on this couch? What kind of a doctor are you anyway, a "sturgeon"? You look more like a "chubsucker" to me, if you know what I mean. Anyway, doc, I feel a little "crappie", a little "eel". Anytime I try to do something, I just "flounder." A little paranoid too, like the walls have eyes. What do you think, doc? See any "walleyes?" Do I have any physical symptoms? Yeah-- a "largemouth", "fathead", and a "redbreast." Maybe they're just "red herrings". Or maybe I'm just lonely and looking for a "chum." What's wrong, doc, are you not gonna take the "bait?" Well, I guess I'm just "flaky," so just stick a fork in me, I'm done. No seriously, wouldn't it be funny if I walked into your office and made up all those fish puns off the top of my head? It actually took quite a bit of research, that's why I'm 2 weeks late for my appointment.

WRITTEN ON PSYCHOLOGIST'S PAD: "...Patient's last request, to sleep with fishes, granted...Can't hold breath much longer..Must swim back to surface..."

No, the fish are not the issue. Seems I lost my monkey Curious George again.

"I start my gynecology residency tomorrow and I can smell it already."

"And lastly, Doctor...I give you...CAVIAR!"

"Albert Hofman just died at 102, which is how many hits we each dropped in his memory."

"Sheer genius,doctor--for if mere fish are able in certain instances to break the bonds of the circumstances into which they are hatched, how much more reasonable must it be to suppose that I, an individual of the species 'Homo sapiens', should be capable of severing the ties of my encumbering past, and ascending into higher, and ultimately more rewarding, spheres of endeavour ? Genius, I say ! Sheer genius !......Bravo !"

You know, Doc, I thought having crabs was bad, but this is worse.

"that one there is paul, oh..over there is mack, and oh...that one down there is doug...rest in peace, doug."

"you see them too !?! seriously..don't fuck with me, man!"

"what fish?"

" 'Ick' ! ... By which, I hasten to add, I in no way mean to cast slights upon this therapeutic advice of yours to foreswear all further recourse to the currently so popular "Inflatable Floozie', henceforth to date the female form only in its actual, corporeal, and evil-smelling condition; but by which I mean only to inform you that the diseased state so dreaded by hobbyists and 'fish-farmers' everywhere, and vernacularly known as 'the Ick', has invaded these premises and attacked that little one yonder, on the carpet---- poor fellow !"

I always feel like I'm second best. For example, those are Argon Tetras.

"Novelty helium balloons are so five minutes ago."

"This proves it, doc -- you can sell any old compulsive doodling to the New Yorker as long as you draw a psychiatrist's office around it."

"It's not the hallucinatory fish that bother me. It's the fishtail doorknob."

"What do you call a fish with no eyes? Fsh. What do you call a psychiatrist with no eyes. You!" [lunges at psychiatrist]

I've tried to tell them, I'm too cool for school!

"Actually, doc, a recent New York Times article suggested that despite conventional wisdom, it's a mistake to tilt your head back when you have a nosebleed."

"I told them: 'I'll find him for three, but I'll catch him and kill him for ten. You gotta make up your minds...'That's when they threw me over board."

Those are fish, right? Whew, for a moment there I was afraid that I was really fucked up!

When they start mating, we are going to seriously wish we weren't right below them. Ah well, at least I'm dressed for it.

So, I say to myself, "Sushi...LSD why not? I'm fucking hungry and bored!"

"My last analyst said its a Freudian school."

(A better wording of my earlier post.)

"I know this is a bit off topic, but could you recommend a good dentist?"

"Mrs. Paul won't go down on my fish stick."

How do you fucking think it makes me feel? It makes me feel batshit crazy!

[kejo: no worries, mate--I gave up on the o-leevio thing but I'm happy to see it live on]

“Two fish down! Repeat, two fish down! Maintain course and altitude until further instruction.”

"A fish won't do anything but swim in a brook.
He can't write his name or read a book.
To fool the people is his only thought,
and though he's slippery he still gets caught
but, if then that sort of life is what you wish...
you may grow up to be a fish
(a new kind of jumped up slippery fish)"

"Now do you see why I prefer my girlfriends inflatable?"

Jeez Doc...It fucking stinks in here!

"I know the human being and fish can coexist peacefully. After all, religion has been around a lot longer than Darwinism."

"No, I don't know an eleven letter word meaning 'study of fish'. What's that got to do with my mother?"

"Is it still beastiality if they don't open their mouths??"

Sometimes I think, what if I HADN'T sprayed my milt?

I just, you know, feel like, when will my real life start?

I don't know, maybe we should just move to Brooklyn.

...and now I can't get rid of the smell!

Sure, the schizophrenia treatment helps me stop hallucinating and socialize better, but the fish are helping with my heart disease. It's kind of a "catch 22". And yes, there's 23 of 'em. That's what's driving me crazy, Doc.

"That's nice, but I prefer the one with cockroaches."

"Whatever happened to Anti-Caption Contest #142? Whatever happened to Anti-Caption Contest #142?

"I keep on asking that question, Doc, but I'm not getting answers. It's like no one's listening, or everyone thinks I'm joking. But I swear this ain't no red herring, Doc. I swear it!

"Whaddaya say, Doc?


"It all started when a bird fucked a fish."

"I could lie here all day, doc, just trawling through the depths of my psyche."

"I love this immersion therapy, but I think we're both drowning."

"Hey, doc, did you hear about the pregnant mermaid? It was an act of cod."

"... so Eve went to the river and bathed. God, seeing this, screamed, "Oy, now all the fish will smell like pussy!"

"Holy crap. I'm supposed to be a fisherman. I thought I was just some guy who liked to wear rubbers."

So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish (Mass Market Paperback - Mar 29, 1999)
Buy new: $7.99 97 Used & new from $0.50
ISBN-10: 0345391837
ISBN-13: 978-0345391834

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