The New Yorker Cartoon Anti-Caption Contest #171
Submit the worst possible caption for this New Yorker cartoon. Click here for details. Click here for last week's results.
First place
"I don't know, lady. I just fucking work here. Do you want one or not" — JohnnyB
Second place
"I can't weigh them- They're not to scale." —Archie Tect
Third place
"So after I killed my wife, I hacked her into eight pieces. But then, each piece turned into a miniature version of my wife and started dancing around. So please, for the love of God, buy them all before I go INSANE!" —MisterHippity
Honorable mention
"So you want one...singular...shank section?" — therblig
"Why, there was a time when the kinetoscope brought all the benefits of enlightenment and culture to the smallest village and the farthest frontier, but of course now it's used mainly for porn." — Joshua
Comments
"It's your lost youth. Nobody's buying it."
Posted by: Joshua | November 24, 2008 9:59 AM
“Of course they’re free-range - what kind of monster do you think I am? We also have a special on giant fried eggs.”
Posted by: Deborah | November 24, 2008 10:00 AM
"We're firing the one on the left this afternoon. We've warned her and warned her about mugging at the customers."
Posted by: Ed | November 24, 2008 10:09 AM
(whispering) "The scale behind me has become sentient and is holding me hostage. Please call the police."
Posted by: Ed | November 24, 2008 10:11 AM
"Sure we sell just a leg! What do you think the saw's for?"
Posted by: Ed | November 24, 2008 10:12 AM
We also have grouper doing the can-can but they're wearing pants.
Posted by: LK | November 24, 2008 10:13 AM
"If you want something saucier, come back for the 11 p.m. show. Let's just say the sausage links behind me could tell a tale that would curl your hair."
Posted by: Ed | November 24, 2008 10:14 AM
"I carved them out of ham because I'm so lonely. God, I'm so crushingly alone. Please hold me, miss."
Posted by: Ed | November 24, 2008 10:16 AM
You have hooves...like a horse.
Posted by: Drew | November 24, 2008 10:18 AM
"Why, you're right! Customer would be able to see the meat I have for sale if I removed the picture of those dancing girls from the front!"
Posted by: Ed | November 24, 2008 10:19 AM
Gah. Customers, rather.
Posted by: Ed | November 24, 2008 10:20 AM
Glad you like the keyboard. I can play any Elton John song. Go ahead...make a request.
Posted by: Drew | November 24, 2008 10:24 AM
Sure they look good - but you don't want to watch how they're made...
Posted by: simsburybear | November 24, 2008 10:24 AM
"No, they're not kosher. They're shiksas."
"Well, then, could I interest you in the Jean Arp painting hanging on the rack behind me?"
"They're cornish Rockettes. They taste just like chicken."
"You should really try a fillet. Each one is handcut by my brother Sweeney."
Posted by: gary | November 24, 2008 10:28 AM
No, ma'am: I stand by that sign. Rockettes have indeed been ate here. Your confusion is that you think "Rockettes" represents the subject when it is in fact the object. Perhaps it's a gender issue -- I've noticed that it's far more common for women to make that very same error than it is for men. See, as a heterosexual male, I correctly gravitate toward the notion of The Rockettes as objects. Speaking of which, I'm beginning to find your narrow-minded view of the world to be quite offensive and I'm going to have to ask you to leave.
Posted by: Jason Olshefsky | November 24, 2008 10:34 AM
"You wanna leg or a breast?
Posted by: jim M | November 24, 2008 10:37 AM
New York-style cheesecake.
Posted by: Arthur | November 24, 2008 10:55 AM
"Me? I'd put them in the freezer. That way they stay in the goddamn kitchen."
Posted by: Jared | November 24, 2008 10:59 AM
"It's the economic downturn, ma'am. These extra Rockettes have been reduced to doing their show inside my meat case. Get it? Reduced?"
Posted by: Vance | November 24, 2008 11:14 AM
"29! NUMBER 29!!"
Posted by: dwilk | November 24, 2008 11:17 AM
"I'm guessing your husband 's been missing 'his leg'."
Posted by: Sam L. | November 24, 2008 11:25 AM
"Why, 3 3/4' - 2 7/8' - 3 3/4', give or take ! You're the first female to ask."
Posted by: Sam L. | November 24, 2008 11:40 AM
"'What's the hacksaw for?' Ma'am, you are not kinky enough to be in my sex shop. Please leave."
Posted by: J | November 24, 2008 11:42 AM
"To be perfectly truthful, lady, we've had a few complaints about the weiners lately."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 24, 2008 11:53 AM
"Yes, you did see them in court about 4 months ago."
"Those'll cost you an arm and a leg. Quite fitting, isn't it?"
"I don't know, lady. I just fucking work here. Do you want one or not"
"Fresh? Sure. One of 'em just asked me to go up to her place. I'll say they're fresh!"
"Yes, I treat most women like a piece of meat. But, you, Alice - I would worship you."
Posted by: JohnnyB | November 24, 2008 11:56 AM
...but I had chorus girl for lunch.
Posted by: pessimist | November 24, 2008 12:08 PM
We're filming-Honey I shrunk the Rockettes.
They're like chicken wings or squab-negative calories-more work than nutritional value.
Yes, They're microwaveable.
Posted by: Rockette Scientist | November 24, 2008 12:08 PM
It smells like fish but it tastes like steak.
Posted by: pessimist | November 24, 2008 12:10 PM
The ones in Buffalo sauce have more of a kick.
I usually singe the hair off before broiling them.
The weiners are a bit larger this week...
Their outfits do fit like sausage wrappers you cloven hoofed woman.
Posted by: Cannibalistic Carpetmuncher | November 24, 2008 12:12 PM
Well it's been slow... so I converted my meat case into a burlesque puppet theater.
I can control 8 chorus girls with two hands and my penis.
Posted by: pessimist | November 24, 2008 12:14 PM
"At 125 degrees, they think they're in a sauna. ..It's not fast food."
Posted by: Sam L. | November 24, 2008 12:15 PM
"As a white southern male, I don't like to serve blacks..but I have to."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 24, 2008 12:22 PM
"Yes, they're trophies. I always keep trophies. From my wife's dance class. What kind of trophy did you think they were?"
Posted by: Deborah | November 24, 2008 12:22 PM
They are not kosher! What do I look like-a Rockette Zionist!
Posted by: Hymen Thinthrupus | November 24, 2008 12:24 PM
Honey, you said you didn't care if I did model Rockettes!
They are not free range-just in case.
All the male customers call it a heads up display.
Posted by: Hugh G Reckshun | November 24, 2008 12:26 PM
"OK, one can can of pork. Anything else?"
Posted by: mypalmike | November 24, 2008 12:29 PM
Their dance 10, your looks 3.
The audiences were shrinking at the Music Hall so they downsized.
Posted by: Hetero Chorus Line Fan | November 24, 2008 12:30 PM
"By the ounce, actually. Look around you, m'am."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 24, 2008 12:31 PM
I'm not much for all this new fangled cloning, but, er, waste not, want not.
Posted by: Sharon | November 24, 2008 12:31 PM
Tits or ass?
Posted by: Elizabeth | November 24, 2008 12:32 PM
"Bonjour mademoiselle. Voulez-vous la cage aux folles?"
Posted by: mypalmike | November 24, 2008 12:36 PM
Thinking: "Why, Annabelle Lecher ! ..Gotta hand it to the lieutenant !"
Posted by: Anonymous | November 24, 2008 12:39 PM
If they don't meet the height requirement, they get cut.
Personally, I like them thin shaved.
Kosher? No, but one was orally blessed by a Jewish guy.
Posted by: Demon Butcher of Meat Street | November 24, 2008 12:41 PM
A little snack for the Doctor, Clarice?
They go on special during the Holidays.
They're Fosseville Brats.
Posted by: Hannibal's Elephant Rear Guard | November 24, 2008 12:46 PM
"I like to put a handful down my pants and let them get busy."
Posted by: jim M | November 24, 2008 12:53 PM
"Shame, really ! People thought they wanted to bring down the expense of child-rearing. ...Remember when 'exotic pets' sold below $4./lb ?"
Posted by: Von Go | November 24, 2008 12:55 PM
They perform a "cunning array of stunts" and then you eat them.
No ma'am-you can't beat our meat.
They're the young Russian chorus line from "Dancing with the Tsars."
Posted by: Homophonic | November 24, 2008 12:56 PM
"I just can't bring myself to kill them. Unless you really want to buy one."
Posted by: Francis | November 24, 2008 12:58 PM
"My C-O-S-H, cosh ! Duh ! ..Hanging to the left, madame ! Some of this 'meat' puts up a fight."
Posted by: Von Go | November 24, 2008 1:13 PM
So you want one...singular...shank section?
You should see their bump and grind. I bump them on the head and then grind them into sausage.
Posted by: therblig | November 24, 2008 1:18 PM
"It's a long story. Suffice it to say that I also have a twelve-inch pianist."
Posted by: mypalmike | November 24, 2008 1:19 PM
"No. But we'll be getting a re-supply out of Africa any time now."
Posted by: Von Go | November 24, 2008 1:24 PM
"How can I help you?"
"Make up your mind already! This isn't Rockette science!"
"Please don't order one of the miniature women! Those tiny, pathetic screams— I just can't bear to hear them anymore. And this saw hasn't been sharpened in weeks."
Posted by: Rubrick | November 24, 2008 1:25 PM
I can't weigh them- They're not to scale.
Won't regret-Can't forget.
What I did for stove...
Posted by: Archie Tect | November 24, 2008 1:25 PM
Actually, they're the June Taylor Ham dancers.
Posted by: therblig | November 24, 2008 1:30 PM
Sorry we don't have any on tap.
Serving suggestion?- Boil in tap water.
Gam and Cheese on Rye-coming right up!
Posted by: Legman Myself | November 24, 2008 1:35 PM
"You WISH, 'cut-outs' !"
Posted by: Sam L. | November 24, 2008 1:35 PM
We call them spamettes
Posted by: Homie | November 24, 2008 1:38 PM
Hot Pockettes!
O grams tranny fat!
Little practice, little practice...
Donut Holes are to donuts as sausages are to _______?
Posted by: Crispin Sleeve | November 24, 2008 1:46 PM
"Oh.., you must be thinking of my nephew, 'The Butcher Of Lyon,' or my cousin, 'The Butcher Of Rostov,' or my mother, 'The Butcher Of Abbeville.'"
Posted by: dwilk | November 24, 2008 1:48 PM
Yes lady, if you tickle them, they laugh; if you prick them, they bleed; if you deep fry them, they scream. Now, do you want your pound of flesh or not?
Posted by: therblig | November 24, 2008 1:49 PM
Why is my apron wiggling? Er, that's just the exhaust from the walk-ins.
Posted by: Optimus Sub-Prime | November 24, 2008 2:00 PM
"It's a good thing there are no blacks in here to seed these."
Posted by: Von Go | November 24, 2008 2:02 PM
I can't remember. I have butcher's block.
The butcher paper dolls just didn't cut it for me.
I'll throw in the bulimic one for free if you buy the others.
Pets or meat?
Posted by: Roger N Me | November 24, 2008 2:06 PM
Everyone needs to visit the shrink now and then...
They make a nice can a pee.
Whore d'oeuvres? I have just the thing.
It gives new meaning to the term finger food.
Posted by: Sy Kiatryst | November 24, 2008 2:15 PM
"Women say I look like Rutger Hauer. Is that good ?"
Posted by: Sam L. | November 24, 2008 2:16 PM
No, I don't have any Chinese micromidget acrobats. You eat those and you're hungry for more in 20 minutes. Although it does make for a more well balanced diet.
Posted by: Long Hung Lo | November 24, 2008 2:19 PM
If you order them moony side up, they taste a bit like anchovies.
No, we're not accepting applications Ms. Bobbitt!
I see one hog in a jacket, but we're out of pigs in a blanket.
Posted by: The Unkindest Cut | November 24, 2008 2:25 PM
"We just started selling tuna."
Posted by: gray | November 24, 2008 2:31 PM
They're from the Vienna City Music Hall...
Trust me. They're bone-in.
If you want the trim, they become New York Strip.
Posted by: Bean E Weanee | November 24, 2008 2:33 PM
"You've heard of the Carnegie Deli? This is the Radio City Deli! No, I don't know what that fried egg-like thing on the wall behind me is, either."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 24, 2008 2:34 PM
Buenos diaz, señora. I see you admire my little chorizo line.
Posted by: therblig | November 24, 2008 2:36 PM
(Whoops. Carnegie/Radio City thing above was me.)
Posted by: John Tabin | November 24, 2008 2:36 PM
“Pay no attention to the man behind the counter.”
Posted by: dwilk | November 24, 2008 2:44 PM
Hello, Mrs. Cleaver. How's the beaver? I've got a big sausage just for you. If you and your hubby do it twice-is it a reward? Have you ever eaten a Fish Crockette? That little Wally has one after school everyday. Nice fleshtone shoes.
Posted by: Banter Dahmer | November 24, 2008 2:50 PM
"It's a very, very ..very long story involving African, Presbyterian missionaries, rain-forest hanky-panky, 'in situ' orphanages, Congolese pygmies --and the trade in 'bush meat'. ...Seems Conrad was doing picnics."
Posted by: Von Go | November 24, 2008 2:52 PM
"Why yes, they are 100% grass fed."
Posted by: MAtt | November 24, 2008 3:01 PM
And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand...
Can you recommend a proctologist?
Posted by: A. Retentive | November 24, 2008 3:03 PM
"Quite right, Mrs. Xlotl. To Serve Woman, as well !"
Posted by: Anonymous | November 24, 2008 3:07 PM
Welcome to the Muybridge Deli. Can I get you a pioneering series of motion-capture photographs?
Posted by: Urgh | November 24, 2008 3:13 PM
Way before U2, there was Sam Cooke. Your hair has that Hullabaloo look. Don't you know you're uncool. Cause you're preoccupied with- 1955.
2 lbs of Archer Dancer Loaf it is.
Posted by: Whitesnake's Car | November 24, 2008 3:16 PM
He recalled her in her younger, more petite, flexible days, when she was a Rockette... He still had the trophy condom she tied a knot in hanging proudly overhead. She was his muse, the inspiration for Tiny Dancer Meat Puppets and the side order
Prosti-tots.
Posted by: That Was Then | November 24, 2008 3:20 PM
"No, m'am. I carry no 'briefs' for those, except just what they got on."
Posted by: N.O. it all ! | November 24, 2008 3:27 PM
“They weigh 2 to 3 pounds each--maybe more if they’re ovulating.”
Posted by: dwilk | November 24, 2008 3:32 PM
"No, that is not an egg. That is a bed-pan in case one of them has to 'tinkle'. ..By the way, know where a 'child-size' might be ?"
Posted by: N.O. it all ! | November 24, 2008 3:43 PM
"Some people even eat the head."
Posted by: dwilk | November 24, 2008 3:59 PM
" 'Boned-up on the law' ?! More like 'boned-up by the law', lady ! ..Goes back five, six months, seems."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 24, 2008 4:11 PM
Yes, they're alive. Yes, you cook and eat them. Yes, it's creepy. Lady, what part of "Gahan Wilson Signature Series Meat Case" don't you get?
Posted by: therblig | November 24, 2008 4:23 PM
"Yes , very much the friendliest, not to say, most flirtatious, mizzus. Seems she's taken a shine to you, too. ..Grab her off next go-round ?"
Posted by: Anonymous | November 24, 2008 4:30 PM
"They stomp on the maggots."
Posted by: J.D. | November 24, 2008 4:43 PM
"That's correct ma'am, the high kickers are a little stringier and best used for stews and such."
Posted by: mort drucker | November 24, 2008 4:44 PM
Take it from me, when one of these gals climbs out of your turducken and dances over to the cranberry sauce, that will be a Thanksgiving to remember.
Posted by: therblig | November 24, 2008 4:46 PM
It's my favorite-the can can from "Orifice"
What We Talk About When We Talk About Meat-Raymond Carver
It's an Elton John Tribute-Tiny Dancer Rockette Man
Posted by: Shatner's Spokenword Cover | November 24, 2008 4:50 PM
"So the governer will be by to pardon one soon? And they want to film her with me slaughtering the rest in the background? That won't be a problem. Thanks for the 'heads up'!"
Posted by: mort drucker | November 24, 2008 4:54 PM
It's the Broadway location - all we have are hams.
Posted by: therblig | November 24, 2008 4:55 PM
"The hers here are protein."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 24, 2008 4:57 PM
Could you post a link- I'll order them ONLINE!
The loins look particularly fresh today!
Silence of the Gams.
Cleave only unto me-baby!
Posted by: Greg Peckory | November 24, 2008 4:59 PM
I'm playing my meat pipe organ. It has 9 new keys.
No one seemed to be saying anything. The Butcher speechless from his tallywhacker caught in the grinder. She pondered the fresh meat mutely. A small cry from the case- I hope to be a waitress some day!
Posted by: Bach Anall | November 24, 2008 5:03 PM
"No 'Alice' --but we got freakin' 'Dorothy', at last."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 24, 2008 5:09 PM
Garbo orders.
Are these Rockefeller Center Cut?
Those legs start at their toes and go all the way up to make a perfect ass of themselves.
Posted by: D letterman | November 24, 2008 5:23 PM
"What the?! How the hell did he get out of the freezer? SOMEONE STOP THAT DOG!!"
Posted by: Milo | November 24, 2008 5:29 PM
"The fun part is chopping them up!"
Posted by: Milo | November 24, 2008 5:34 PM
Serge no longer served espresso with a twist of lemon at fancy art galleries. He cut meat. Brigitte slyly ignored the fresh cuts and thought wistfully of Flave's meth encrusted tube steak.
Posted by: Gastineau Lives | November 24, 2008 5:36 PM
"May I interest you in one of our fat ugly miniature women?"
Posted by: Milo | November 24, 2008 5:39 PM
[ 'Lar' ! - a butcher, who had nine wives, And, fearing this 'menage' might seem grotesque, Persuaded eight of them to sport their wiles 'Locked an arm', for 's public mask !'.]
Posted by: Anonymous | November 24, 2008 5:48 PM
"Break a leg ?"
Posted by: N.O. it all ! | November 24, 2008 6:00 PM
"I know. I know. It's smells like a seafood place in here...I get that all the time."
Posted by: al in la | November 24, 2008 6:14 PM
It's $5 per arm, $10 per leg, and $20 for the rump. . . . And no returns on that last one. We've had issues.
Posted by: JR | November 24, 2008 6:14 PM
It's our "William Tell Overture Platter"...rump titty rump titty rump rump rump.
Posted by: therblig | November 24, 2008 7:06 PM
"Yes, those are chicken rockettes."
Posted by: djack | November 24, 2008 8:42 PM
"Love death, hate living...........mmmm woman,.....friend good........she hate me.........just like others...."
"Oh, hi Mom."
Posted by: djack | November 24, 2008 9:08 PM
"I'm telling you ... don't play staredown with them!"
Posted by: Kyle | November 24, 2008 9:38 PM
No, this is better:
"Please, I'm telling you ... don't look in their eyes!"
Posted by: Kyle | November 24, 2008 9:55 PM
"Come back tomorrow, thigh of Bea Arthur will be 1/2 off."
Posted by: Gary Goldsmith | November 24, 2008 10:10 PM
"Lady, if you're concerned about my display case then you're really not going to be happy about the hacksaw, toilet seat and used elephant condom hanging on the wall behind me."
Posted by: Dave | November 24, 2008 10:11 PM
"Look, m'am, I make no apologies. After all, I am a butcher."
Posted by: Dave | November 24, 2008 10:15 PM
"I'm sorry Mrs Kramden. I haven't seen Ralph. But if I know Ralph, he's probably hanging out at the Raccoon Lodge or bowling."
Posted by: Gary Goldsmith | November 24, 2008 10:27 PM
Came in this morning and the drawings were there, missus. From the inside. It's not the first time the live lobsters have resorted to hieroglyphics as a plea for help.
Posted by: Bill B | November 25, 2008 12:00 AM
Yeah, they won't fuck me either.
Posted by: WildGirlsGone | November 25, 2008 12:01 AM
"No one seems to want to buy my meats since I put that picture of the women up in the glass. Go figure."
Posted by: Erik | November 25, 2008 12:22 AM
They're only good until January 20th.
Posted by: mhendrik | November 25, 2008 12:23 AM
"I could throw another shrimp on them Barbies, or throw another Barbie on them shrimp--it makes no difference to me, ma'am."
Posted by: GreenieStickemCaps | November 25, 2008 12:38 AM
"In America, chorus girl eats you!"
Posted by: Joshua | November 25, 2008 1:03 AM
"Hey, CHINLESS!"
Posted by: J.D. | November 25, 2008 1:15 AM
"Yo, Little Lulu, you still got it, girl. I bet you still wild as any Zulu too, ain't you?"
Posted by: J.D. | November 25, 2008 1:21 AM
"How do they smell? With their noses, that's how. Ha ha! Also with their vaginas."
Posted by: Joshua | November 25, 2008 1:30 AM
"Just as you ordered, Alice: chicken cutlets genetically engineered to look like Mrs. Brady. Now as promised Mr. Brady gives you that raise and you give me that blumpkin! Woo-hoo!"
Posted by: J.D. | November 25, 2008 1:35 AM
"What? You think a bleating veal calf ripped from its mother and trapped in a tiny crate all its short life before being horribly slaughtered feels less pain and terror that any of these miniature happy hookers who dance and laugh until a quick surprise chop to the neck?"
Posted by: J.D. | November 25, 2008 1:45 AM
"I saw her first."
Posted by: J.D.f | November 25, 2008 2:15 AM
"They audition, they rehearse, but they never make it out of your butthole, and they burn their own calories."
Posted by: Kosmicki | November 25, 2008 2:42 AM
"It's not that weird. So what if we're giants who run a butcher shop with dancing girls for entertainment?"
Posted by: David John | November 25, 2008 3:09 AM
"If you run past it fast it looks like they're moving. Anyway, look, I was just about to hang myself so if you don't want anything..."
"Lady, you disgust me! You and the appalling state of America's infrastructure. You, the appalling state of America's infrastructure, and those shows where people eat balls. You, America's decayed infrastructure, those shows where people eat balls, and the kids with their sexy outfits. You, bad infrasctructure, ball-eating tv, sexy teens, and Chinese Democracy, available now at Tower Records, Strawberry's, and Sam Goody's."
"Strawberry Frogurt? Yeah, the thoid one from the left is Strawberry Frogurt. She also grants wishes and sings like an angel. But she drinks so she's a nightmare to work with."
"So how's it going Mrs. Petersen? You hear about them pirates? Pretty crazy stuff, ya know? Hey, but it takes all kinds, right? You like that? Those're foetuses. I put little outfits on them so the monsignor don't get upset."
Posted by: TG Gibbon | November 25, 2008 5:33 AM
The Broadway Barbie display, assembled with careful, loving attention, seemed like such a good idea only moments ago but fear gripped Kenneth as he realised some patrons would doubt his manhood.
Posted by: Alan Weld | November 25, 2008 8:03 AM
"Yes, I agree. The translucent casings around them are exquisite. You don't see that kind of work anymore. The Venice Biennial is interested. Do you date butchers?"
Posted by: mort drucker | November 25, 2008 8:31 AM
"One step further and she will line up with the reducer ray. Then my chorus line will be complete!"
Posted by: mort drucker | November 25, 2008 8:33 AM
"Lady, this is a New Yorker cartoon. We only carry white meat."
Posted by: Will B. Oneday | November 25, 2008 8:39 AM
"Sorry, we're looking for smaller, younger and less frumpy DANCERS! Thank you. NEXT!"
"The one on the left seems to like you. She'd love you to take her home before I cut her other hand off."
Posted by: LV | November 25, 2008 8:42 AM
"I had animal sex with your sister last night.
Posted by: Gary Goldsmith | November 25, 2008 8:43 AM
"I know you have the law and the facts on your side, but I'm going with the dancing girls on this one."
Posted by: Galoux | November 25, 2008 8:57 AM
"It all started with the lamb chop panties . . . "
Posted by: Bou | November 25, 2008 8:59 AM
I don't know who they are, they just came with the Gahan Wilson signature collection icebox, but their tiny little screams of despair are starting to drive me crazy.
Posted by: miked | November 25, 2008 9:04 AM
Since the day after Clive Barnes called them "just offal."
Posted by: Roger Kaputnik | November 25, 2008 9:23 AM
Ma'am, I couldn't stay in business here on Anti-Caption Ave. if I had a problem with . . . people's eyes. Last week some jerkoff with a wandering eye, pardon my French, tried to return a turkey he bought somewhere else. The week before that, this Jew in a poncho with exophthalmos came in asking for chorizo. So lady, I could care less about your albinism or whatever; I'm looking straight into your rheumy eye and saying, "Can I sell you some meat today?"
Posted by: Roger Kaputnik | November 25, 2008 9:38 AM
"They're so cute, I just don't have the heart to butcher them."
Posted by: MisterHippity | November 25, 2008 10:22 AM
"No, I haven't seen the winner of last week's caption contest either. Here, why don't you chew on a little dancing-girl flesh while you're looking?"
Posted by: MisterHippity | November 25, 2008 10:24 AM
"No, I haven't seen the winner of last week's caption contest either. Here, why don't you chew on a little dancing-girl flesh while you're looking?"
Posted by: MisterHippity | November 25, 2008 10:25 AM
"No, I haven't seen the winner of last week's caption contest either. Here, why don't you chew on a little dancing-girl flesh while you're looking?"
Posted by: MisterHippity | November 25, 2008 10:26 AM
"In an effort to curb malicious comment posting by abusive users, I've enabled a feature that requires a weblog commenter to wait a short amount of time before being able to post again. Please try to post your comment again in a short while. Thanks for your patience."
Posted by: MisterHippity | November 25, 2008 10:27 AM
"I'm sure glad there are no black people here to see this."
Though this would better fit my alternate anti-caption catch-all: "Tonight, we dine in hell!"
Posted by: Mr. Know It All | November 25, 2008 11:33 AM
"So then the little bastard steals my goose, that golden egg bitch, you know. I never find him, but I took a bunch of gals from his village, put in a new bean stalk, and bingo-bango, I'm a butcher now. Cept I only got Englishmen meat. Fee-Fi what fuck ever, right?"
Posted by: Mr. Know It All | November 25, 2008 11:38 AM
"Their coming through Fear Factor like that should have been a warning to me."
Posted by: Von Go | November 25, 2008 12:00 PM
"Usually in a bun with horseradish and mayo."
"Oh, you know -- can't kick."
"Sorry, full price until Friday. If any are still here I'll give you 20% off."
"No I don't think any of them are named Chuck."
"And then I thought to myself -- 'You know, I really could use something to brighten the place up.'"
Posted by: J.D. Finch | November 25, 2008 12:11 PM
Wait 'til you see the Beenie Weenie show.
Posted by: Weller | November 25, 2008 12:36 PM
I'm standing here teetering over the edge of an endless abyss where the floor of my butcher shop disappeared and you're worried about the price? Lady, if you haven't bought a new coat since 1940, you can't afford these babies. Throw me sausage link rope.
Posted by: Vern Tigo | November 25, 2008 1:10 PM
"Chorus Girls"! The other white meat!
Posted by: cookies boy | November 25, 2008 1:18 PM
Meat Shop Chess-
Pawnshop coat wearing frumpy bitch to Dancing Queen's Butcher-3.
and Mate!
Posted by: Bobby Fischer | November 25, 2008 1:20 PM
"Little Chops of Horror"
Posted by: cookies boy | November 25, 2008 1:20 PM
"...Aluminum foil over the breasts will keep tender, but don't try to use their cavities for the stuffing. They're dancers, remember. You don't have a lot of room to work with."
Posted by: al in la | November 25, 2008 1:25 PM
Sam's widow Alice couldn't not be cheered even by the miniature dancing girls since she sold the butcher shop to Achmed and the Brady Kids were all grown now. The revelation that Mike was really gay and Greg was doing his Mom and sisters was not groovy either. Sam used to give her the best salchicha.
Posted by: Sherwood Schwarz | November 25, 2008 1:25 PM
"I like to place five or six around a Supreme Dish and serve them with cocktail sauce"!
Posted by: cookies boy | November 25, 2008 1:29 PM
We do have some salmon-
"The Other Pink Meat"
Graham was Brian, Carl and Dennis' brother who couldn't harmonize. He founded Beverage Air and wrote Broadway tunes.
Posted by: Klondike Bar | November 25, 2008 1:38 PM
Craig's List:
Refrigerated Straight Front Food Display Case
77" wide x 48" high x 34-5/8"" deep, Anodized aluminum frame, Insulated front glass Insulated glass top & ends- Framed, sliding, insulated, tempered glass doors
Top light & shelf lights with lamps 1 white wire shelf Pan capacity 16 - 18" x 26" ETL Sanitation Listed (NSF STD-7)
Self-contained air-cooling unit 120 Volt - 60 Cycle - Single Phase
1/3 HP - 12 Amps
10' cord, plug & switch U.L. listed
Automatic, energy saving, condensate evaporator
Heavy duty white HPL laminate interior deck
Heavy duty steel base - Black finish-$9000 (Rockette Dancing Girls additional $250,000)
Posted by: Craig S List | November 25, 2008 1:41 PM
"I decline service to any wearer of animal fur and must ask you to leave the store. This is my undeviating policy since October 27, when I joined the Sierra Club following an inspirational speech by one of its Green Party candidates."
Posted by: N.O. it all ! | November 25, 2008 1:46 PM
She could have been the perfect woman-her head was flat enough to rest a beer on. However, the lack of a chin to rest the nads upon detracted from the bonus points for near stiletto goat feet.
Posted by: Sangre Bleu | November 25, 2008 1:57 PM
Ma'am- The butcher shop is next door. This is the Petite Dancing "Spinner" & S&M Emporium. If you want to return with your husband we can arrange something.
Posted by: Mengele's Butcher Shop | November 25, 2008 2:05 PM
"People...Who eat people...Are the luckiest people.....In the world...They're filling..."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 25, 2008 2:22 PM
"And for a cut above 'whore's meat', I can show you these...."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 25, 2008 2:46 PM
The butcher, customer and Rockettes all appeared speechless.
The dark haired ones make a nice brunette en brochette.
I have a tiny plastic surgeon who can devein them for you.
Posted by: Marlee Matlin | November 25, 2008 3:28 PM
"Look Who's Not Talking"-Not starring John Travolta
Theme Song by John Cage
"It's a Mumfest with Kick-"
the late Marcel Marceau (in ASL of course).
Winner of the Gallaudet Film Festival
Posted by: Anonymous | November 25, 2008 3:34 PM
We're sold out of Boston Butt and skirt steak, I can special cut these into your choice of heel of round, rump roast, eye of round, New York Strip or leotard.
Posted by: K.C. Prime | November 25, 2008 3:53 PM
The lifelong con disguised as a grandmother is quietly casing the sausages.
After the SEC investigation insider trading fines, Mark Cuban
opened McCain's Maverick Meat Market & Miniature Mavs Dancers.
Posted by: Dirk Nowitzki (47 scrabble points) | November 25, 2008 4:05 PM
"Right ! Fifth from the left ? ..Go figure ! She's got her neck out of joint over SOMETHING."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 25, 2008 4:11 PM
Did you see what I sawed?
The groupies all went for the bandsaw operator.
I do not like them in the Sprockets. I do not like Miniature Rockettes. I do not like them Ma'am I Am.
I do not like large eggs and gams.
Posted by: Seussing Pocketsofpuss | November 25, 2008 4:12 PM
He was, hands down, the best butcher in NY.
As the humidity drops, they become more jerky.
He wouldn't give her the bare bones of the story.
Wanted-Boner.
Posted by: Buffy Pemmican | November 25, 2008 4:19 PM
("That's odd - she doesn't look like a lesbian")
Posted by: Greg Urbaitis | November 25, 2008 4:20 PM
Would you like to dine in or eat them out?
Do I have reservations? Only about eating your undersized sweet meats.
I won't cut the legs off-that's lame!
This is the worst show since Meg Ryan's "In the Coldcut"
Posted by: Dennis Squaid | November 25, 2008 4:26 PM
--"Neck out of joint" ? Show Girls ? I think we all know what that's about !"==
Posted by: Anonymous | November 25, 2008 4:49 PM
You want free meat, that's like so commanist!
Twat would you like to order?
Camel Toed Kick-N-Strips are on special today, Mrs. Fernwood.
Posted by: Martini Mull | November 25, 2008 4:52 PM
Velma had to position herself awkardly in front of the meat counter after nailing the 2x4 to her right kneecap.
I don't know how they get those damn ships in a bottle!
Posted by: Bottle in FrontofMe | November 25, 2008 4:55 PM
Drove downtown for some brains nine-thirty on a tuesday night,
Just to check out the late-night butcher shop.
Call it repulsive, call it convulsive, call it inane,
But when Im surrounded by mini-rockettes I just cant stop.
Its a matter of end stinks, its a matter of refrigerated air conditioning,
Its a matter of tap.
You can call me pavlovs slob.
Ring a bell and Ill cut a steak. Would you like fat?
Dr. Phil tells me youre not just a pedophile,
Cause right now im
Drawing in bed just like Graham Wilson did
Well Im drawing in bed just like Graham wilson did.
So Im drawing here, just starting at the checkered tiles.
And Im doodling about what to doodle about.
Just sketching and resketching to stylish style,
And Im wondering if cartooning is some kind of creative job
Because I am Drawing in bed just like Graham Wilson did
And if you want to find me Ill be out with a lightbox,
Wondering where the hell all the ink has gone.
Graying my background and building meathooks in the air,
And erasing with gum, gum, gum..
Somebody help me, I couldnt see the background tiles
Somebody help me because im
Drawing in bed just like Graham Wilson did.
Posted by: B N Ladeez | November 25, 2008 5:20 PM
Apologies to Gahan-looked like Graham.
Posted by: BN Ladeez Jr | November 25, 2008 5:30 PM
"They're a bit stale. They're left over from '71 - remember Elton John, 'Tiny Dancer'?"
Posted by: Anonymous | November 25, 2008 5:34 PM
"Why, if it ain't Little Orphan Annie, all growed up!"
Posted by: Dave | November 25, 2008 5:42 PM
"Don't even ask."
Posted by: Dave | November 25, 2008 5:46 PM
"It all depends."
Posted by: Dave | November 25, 2008 5:47 PM
"I'm sorry -- would you repeat that?"
Posted by: Dave | November 25, 2008 5:49 PM
It's a mini Asstrail Projection Theater.
I'm catering the Tablevision contract negotiations with the Miniature Guild of Variety Artists-It's a small network.
Posted by: Surly McClain | November 25, 2008 5:53 PM
Tard's Butcher Shop-
Leo and Rhee, Proprietors
They really butchered that last number.
The new meat cutter, Victor, prayed they would spoil.
Posted by: War N Baitee | November 25, 2008 6:06 PM
The only daughter of Hot Lips & the late Major Frank "Chinless Chipmunk" Burns had looked everywhere for small meat paper dolls that resembled her mother. Eureka! She had found them...
Posted by: Larry Linvillerocks | November 25, 2008 6:14 PM
Balinkoff's Theater is Doing Last Tango on Gilligan's Peninsula starring some Mutton as Lobster and the Moreau Playhouse is doing "A Chorus Line" Val Kilmer has the Cassie role and Marlon Brando is Sheila.
The role of Zach is played by Ground Chuck. Superman is cutting flank steak at the Bizarro Butcher Shop.
Posted by: Perpendicular Universe | November 25, 2008 6:49 PM
It was a dark and stormy night outside the butcher shop, but inside it seemed as if some unseen but limp wristed gahan was slicing the meats into perfect little dancing girls. The customer often wore Lu'Air du Temps, but not tonight. She could smell the chorus girls but, alas, I could not. A slight reflux of lox stirred in my gastric column, dimming my olfactory acumen. The imminent emanation of fava beans hung over the room tensely. How could the New Yorker reject my submissions for the 1000th time?
Posted by: Submissive Submittor | November 25, 2008 7:02 PM
@Mr. Know-it-all:
Tonight, we dine in heels!!
Posted by: therblig | November 25, 2008 7:13 PM
Go back to the four decade old Rockette outlet store!
If two people and a country ham were an eternity, two people and nine micro-rockettes were from here to eternity.
The thigh high transparent go-go boots by Rocketteport were exhilarating.
"Rocketteport Makes You Feel Like Highkicking"
Posted by: Doug E Fresh | November 25, 2008 7:45 PM
Buy this magazine or we'll shoot these dames.
Posted by: Nora Rockwell | November 25, 2008 8:14 PM
"'Take Your Daughters To Work Day' comes but once a year, but 'Keep Your Daughters At Work' can last forever and ever and ever!"
Posted by: Eusless Tilley | November 25, 2008 8:22 PM
"Vegans, Peta Workers and Tofu Mamas, dead and damned to eternity in my fridge. Bad for business, I must say..."
Posted by: Eusless Tilley | November 25, 2008 8:24 PM
"The inhumanity aspect rankles, but then again, we're forty, fifty feet tall and we can fe fi fo fum eat who we goddam well wanna eat."
Posted by: Eusless Tilley | November 25, 2008 8:27 PM
"I eat'm feet first, that way the hair makes a jim dandy floss."
Posted by: Eusless Tilley | November 25, 2008 8:28 PM
'My esquadrille of trained pelicans scoop them up off the beach over by Lilliput.'
Posted by: Eusless Tilley | November 25, 2008 8:30 PM
"How'd they get here? Practice, practice, practice."
Posted by: dwilk | November 25, 2008 8:31 PM
"So sorry, but 'Back Off, Boogaloo' is the only song they'll dance to. Really, you don't know how sorry..."
Posted by: Eusless Tilley | November 25, 2008 8:31 PM
"You wanna get smalllll? . . . I mean, really, really small."
Posted by: Saturday Night Dead | November 25, 2008 8:43 PM
This is some funny stuff. The real New Yorker's 3 top captions can't begin to touch this site. I'll bet they have meat organ pianist envy.
Posted by: Col. Ofcorn | November 25, 2008 9:11 PM
"Vegas, with a spume of mono-colored 'ass', Scripts the light variance to maternity."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 25, 2008 9:11 PM
"What grays in Vegas fades from Vegas."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 25, 2008 9:16 PM
Don't be so sad Nomi Malone! Some of us have a hankering for the dry aged meat even with the fungal growth. These wet prime loins don't have the same flavor. Close that tacky coat-I see you have a SAG membership!
Posted by: Kyle McLocklean | November 25, 2008 9:31 PM
A Modest Proposal: For Preventing the Retired Rockettes of Radio City from Being a Burden to Their Country, and for Making Them Beneficial to the Public... whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled, in a fricassee, or a ragout.
Swift Meat Packing-Greely Colorado
Posted by: Tom Swifty | November 25, 2008 9:39 PM
Ma'am, this shop doesn't open till 10 Am. As you can clearly see beneath you-it's only 9:55.
The black linoleum was clearly beneath her. She was used to well marbled floors and well marbled steaks. Without them she had lost her marbles. No one played Granny Hole these days anyway.
Posted by: Hemming Weigh | November 25, 2008 9:48 PM
-- This 'stuffing' towards the bottom (except for its occasional reference in classical literature) is going from bad to worse, so look for your winner right along in here. --
Posted by: The English Patient | November 25, 2008 11:36 PM
Name's Ralph, but people call me Ray. Beware of the hidden and not so hidden bombs. The dancing girls may be booby trapped. The Jerries like to hide surprises in the musical instruments, so be wary of the skin flute. This movie seems like it goes on forever, but then, I'm impatient. Would you like to buy a half pound of flesh, slightly burned?
Posted by: I. Phil Fiennes | November 26, 2008 1:14 AM
No, I really don't like football so much. Why?
Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?
Running with the bulls. What about you, what weird and different thing everyone says they've always really wanted to try but probably never will are you going to actually do next summer, God help you?
Posted by: Thomas T | November 26, 2008 3:03 AM
Yeah, so we didn't tell you we used your picture. We didn't tell you what's in the sausages either.
Posted by: gnorisma | November 26, 2008 5:15 AM
Lady, I wouldn't mind personally but my boss says if you want to keep staring at the counter mesmerizedly, you need to buy something.
Posted by: gnorisma | November 26, 2008 5:30 AM
It was 3 pm and not a single customer had showed up in Ralph's "Saw, Fried Eggs, Sausage and Mannequin Shop".
Posted by: gnorisma | November 26, 2008 5:44 AM
I serve them with sliced Radoshes.
If there were more dots, I've have you check me for hernias with a Mankoff. For now, would you like a sample of Kick In the Teeth Pickled Feet.
Posted by: Lowell George Down on the Farm | November 26, 2008 11:34 AM
"How much per pound? I forget. How much did it say up on the marquee?"
"Of course, Ms. Desmond. You're still big- it's the productions that got small."
"Looks like someone left a door unlocked on the Alzheimer's ward again, mother. Now don't move from the black square 'til that nice orderly comes for you."
Posted by: LV | November 26, 2008 11:36 AM
Waiting for Columbus.
Duchovny the Butcher read the meat prices aloud, missing his little doggie
that had been ran over by a streetcar named Lack of Desire. Invisble Shoe Diaries- "Stellllaaaa!"
Posted by: Billy from TN | November 26, 2008 11:45 AM
Greatest _hit_. Sir, your S fell off the meatshop marquee and I'm not sure of the placement.
I like my women slightly battered.
Posted by: Tim Pura | November 26, 2008 11:56 AM
I've had battered women all my life, the really young ones I like to eat plain.
Posted by: Sean Connery | November 26, 2008 12:03 PM
That's what happens when Rockettes do USO shows on the Spindrift and someone plays too close to the wormholes. NY is the land of the Giants
Posted by: Eli Erwin Allenmanning | November 26, 2008 12:18 PM
"WHITE paper bag, that'll work !"
Posted by: Anonymous | November 26, 2008 12:29 PM
"We're experiencing an infestation of middle-aged men --in raincoats, no less ! -- this week. At first there I thought you might be one, ma'm. ..Sorry."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 26, 2008 12:46 PM
"For 'suspicion', that's what ! This is a sting !"
Posted by: Anonymous | November 26, 2008 12:49 PM
" 'New Yorker' born and bred, ma'm. It's not like we don't try to draw blacks in here."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 26, 2008 1:14 PM
[Somebody must have traduced 'K-Mart', for, without having done anything..terribly wrong, it was infested one fine week.]
Posted by: Anonymous | November 26, 2008 1:54 PM
" 'Whosoever strives upward, him alone can we [rave]' ? Come again, lady."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 26, 2008 3:11 PM
"Raggedy Ann ?!"
Posted by: Anonymous | November 26, 2008 4:34 PM
"Oh Golly Gee...Sir, I, uh, I'll have a pound of the Rockettes."
"What's that mam?"
"Young man, please excuse me, but I'm tripping my balls off right now. Now, please, just measure them out and put them in my bag."
Posted by: fuzzyballs | November 26, 2008 4:48 PM
"So, call me a cynic ! From left to right that's $23.99, $21.99, $22.99,$20.99,$18.98,$22.99,$19.99, and $21.98 ...lady."
Posted by: Sam L. | November 26, 2008 4:53 PM
"But, of course, if you're having guests, you might take a chance over at Brobding Ham."
Posted by: Sam L. | November 26, 2008 5:22 PM
"Number ten!"
Posted by: mort drucker | November 26, 2008 9:57 PM
"They're the sexiest meat items I'm allowed to display up front. Now, in the back room, we have General C. Salami coming through the rye, if you know what I mean."
Posted by: Stevo Darkly | November 27, 2008 12:37 AM
"We call them Cutlettes."
Posted by: Stevo Darkly | November 27, 2008 12:40 AM
"We warned them when they first came here: 'You want fame? Well, fame costs. And right here's where you start paying -- at $3.99 a pound.' "
Posted by: Stevo Darkly | November 27, 2008 12:45 AM
"That's why front row tickets here are only three bucks."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 27, 2008 11:08 AM
"I've got a Rockette in my pocket."
Posted by: Dave | November 27, 2008 11:25 AM
Yeah, the one on the end keeps mugging and breaking the fourth wall. Bitch.
Posted by: Uncle John | November 27, 2008 7:09 PM
"You can call them 'Cutlettes', you can call 'Coquettes'-- you might even call them 'Culottes'- deriving from the French 'cul', meaning 'backside'. ...They are generally hailed by one 'C' word or another."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 27, 2008 7:22 PM
So you are saying I could have the other half of that sausage link, a fried egg that can hang from a wall or a thigh and a drumstick from one of the rockettes?! Goodness.. thats a lot to take in.. I guess I'll take a thigh from the third one from the left? no fourth! My, I'm confused..
Posted by: sarah | November 27, 2008 8:48 PM
I would just recommend you boil them with some of those heavy duty head phones on.. those tiny screams will just break your heart and ruin your dinner.
Posted by: sarah | November 27, 2008 8:55 PM
"No, sorry, I'm fresh out of croquettes. How about a nice Rockette instead?"
Posted by: MisterHippity | November 28, 2008 1:01 AM
"I don't care what you smell. I told you, I don't have any tuna."
Posted by: MisterHippity | November 28, 2008 1:03 AM
"God, I hate 'Bring Your Lilliputians To Work Day'!"
Posted by: MisterHippity | November 28, 2008 1:06 AM
"So after I killed my wife, I hacked her into eight pieces. But then, each piece turned into a miniature version of my wife and started dancing around. So please, for the love of God, buy them all before I go INSANE!"
Posted by: MisterHippity | November 28, 2008 1:11 AM
"Since the downturn in the economy, I've been renting out the butcher shop to Off-Broadway productions. Tonight, it's the premier of, A Really Small Fucking Chorus Line."
Posted by: David John | November 28, 2008 2:30 AM
premiere
(no more captioning under the influence for me)
Posted by: David John | November 28, 2008 2:37 AM
"Dogs love them, plus we've added a breath freshener."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 28, 2008 4:28 AM
"So lady, you come in here and call me the Broadway Meat Nazi? NO TROUPE FOR YOU! COME BACK ONE YEAR!"
(apologies: since we're doing a butcher/deli cartoon, my number of entries is "a little over".)
Posted by: LV | November 28, 2008 9:48 AM
About four small links or one and half big ones. It really depends on the size of the girl and how much filler you use.
Posted by: matt | November 28, 2008 11:54 AM
"No, 'The Three Pigs' perform later this afternoon. I am casting my girls, before swine."
Posted by: Von Go | November 28, 2008 1:08 PM
"What's 'stats' to Vegas stays in Vegas. 3 7/8" - 2 3/4" - 3 7/8" doesn't cut it !"
Posted by: Von Go | November 28, 2008 1:23 PM
"A butcher? Oh no no no I'm a Rockettte man
Rockette man burning out his fuse up here alone."
Posted by: Elton Taupin | November 28, 2008 2:55 PM
I may have used too much shortening...
Wilson's a master at slowing cooking the fat out of them-this is an artist's rendering.
Posted by: Emeril LeGassy | November 28, 2008 3:27 PM
"Uuuuh ! ' I cannot think well of any man who sports with a woman's feelings; and there may often be a great deal more suffered than a stander-by can judge of '. Touchy, touchy !"
Posted by: Anonymous | November 28, 2008 4:24 PM
"Well, I have a buddy who's a gender-reassignent surgeon. I hung up a poster from a patient reunion as a favor.
Did I mention our special on hot dogs?"
Posted by: peejaybee | November 28, 2008 5:55 PM
"They're shaved, not sliced."
Posted by: Dex | November 29, 2008 12:55 AM
"If I were a carpenter
and you were a lady
would you marinate anyway
would you have my rabies?"
Posted by: Anonymous | November 29, 2008 12:58 AM
"Why, there was a time when the kinetoscope brought all the benefits of enlightenment and culture to the smallest village and the farthest frontier, but of course now it's used mainly for porn."
Posted by: Joshua | November 29, 2008 11:59 AM
"Yes, their very existence is an affront against God and man, but just taste them! The meat falls right off the bone!"
"Room for one more."
"Homunculi-R-Us, how can I help you?"
Posted by: Vlad | November 29, 2008 1:20 PM
"If you don't think the world is fucked up, just take a look at the numbers of each of these anti-caption contests.
"This one is 171, the one before it is 247, the one before that is 170, and the one before that is 168!
"It reminds me of when the contest went from 141 to 143 to 143, but it's worse this time around.
"Anyway, what'll it be?"
"It depends. What's today's special?"
"Tenderloins."
"Of course. Then I'll have those."
"I'm sure you already do, my lovely. I'm sure you already do."
"Oh dear!"
Posted by: David F | November 29, 2008 2:17 PM
"Pleased to meat you!"
Posted by: David F | November 29, 2008 2:25 PM
If you don't eat meat then what the fuck are you doing here?
Posted by: Michael M. | November 29, 2008 2:57 PM
It's actually a very sad story. They were raised from birth by a kindly old choreographer and have spent their lives delighting children around the world. He came to me in tears this morning with the girls still asleep in their little beds. Apparently, he'd run into some very serious financial trouble and this was his only option. He left here sobbing.
The taste? Oh, I'd describe it as essentially veal. But with more of a "kick". Ha ha ha ha. But, seriously, be careful not to overcook them or the arms and calves will really dry out.
Posted by: Michael M. | November 29, 2008 3:19 PM
"What can I say? I'm obsessed with gams."
"Come here often?"
"So I says to him, 'who doesn't like a good pork butt now and then?'
And he says, 'How would I know, I'm a Jew!'
And so I says, 'What the hell does that have do with it?'
And so he says, 'You idiot, don't you know that Jews don't eat--'
And I says 'Who said anything about eating??!"
Posted by: MShaw | November 29, 2008 4:07 PM
My sign is vital, my hands are cold, and I’m on my knees looking for the answer. Are we human or are we dancer?
The next show is a Footloose revival-306 Degrees of Kevin Bacon.
Posted by: Killers 3-Album or Dick Clark Movie? | November 29, 2008 4:08 PM
"I'm the chief butcher and choreographer."
Posted by: Anonymous | November 29, 2008 6:30 PM
It's an original Gahan Wilson.
Posted by: MDH | November 29, 2008 7:27 PM
"Yes, lady, meat is murder. Now do you want a chick filet or not?"
Posted by: Norman | November 29, 2008 10:21 PM
"It's my chopped liver salute to Peter Gennaro."
Posted by: J.D. | November 30, 2008 7:40 AM
"You eat people all the time. Soylent Green? People."
Posted by: Edgar | November 30, 2008 9:19 AM
My English not so good. Could you repeat question?
Posted by: MDH | November 30, 2008 9:21 AM
I'm thinking of calling it the "Standing Ovation." An egg so hearty you can hang it from a hook.
Posted by: MDH | November 30, 2008 9:32 AM
I've been reading a lot of Brecht recently.
Posted by: MDH | November 30, 2008 9:45 AM
"Baste not, taste WHAT ?!"
Posted by: Sam L. | November 30, 2008 12:17 PM
Yes, that's it! Just a slight inclination of the head and shoulders is the bow you should use when greeting a butcher in Japan. Enjoy your trip!
Posted by: firebus | November 30, 2008 4:22 PM
Christ. I spray and spray and they just keep coming back!
Posted by: Steve_O | November 30, 2008 6:42 PM
Something like chicken... but perkier.
Posted by: Rob | December 28, 2008 12:03 AM