A current event online rag … political editorial funnies at their worst brought to you by Flopside cOmics… Time for some Dehydroepiandrosterone released throughout your body. Also listed here are some of the bubblegum Flopside cOmics… all stupid and inspirational ….
“satire is strong irony or sarcasm—”in satire, irony is militant”—but parody, burlesque, exaggeration, juxtaposition, comparison, analogy, and double entendre are all frequently used in satirical speech and writing. This “militant” irony or sarcasm often professes to approve of (or at least accept as natural) the very things the satirist wishes to attack. “
The highest court of our land is making it impossible for women to care for their own bodies. When women are deflowered or devalued it is time to look at the other sex… the male, especially all conservative moronic males, and their bitches…. Time to address their sperm and ask the big question,
“If a man gets a woman pregnant without the holy affirming blessing of the great Baubo herself, then off with his balls, or head … whichever. What do you think about that justice?”
When I was a kid and things got too much to bear. I was often found in the boy’s room under the pool table reading Mad Magazine or Playboy editorials. Gahan Wilson was a great way to cosmically melt into the realm of humor. We are living through “too much to bear” times now.
I am bringing back my Flopside Comics if you haven’t noticed already. Mr. Fuck has been joining the racoons outside at night for free food. I laugh out loud at his eager face.
“Come on Hudley, lets laugh together?” He speaks as he scratches the window like the humor up my spine.
I will not define humor or who, what or why Mad Magazine did what it did? I loved the off-the/wall humor of Gahan Wilson. It turns me on and as any good or bad artist knows, it is how it makes us feel that matters. Humor attacks stress. Annihilating it from the face of this messed up planet.
Punks in Space is the latest Flopside Comic to hit the trash. Long time buddy Kerry Love Canal tossed the idea my way as he mocked the other Bubble Gum comics that the crew at Flopside Comics put together. Mr. Fuck and Mr. Shit were out near the bomb-shelter one night. With a beer and a fart, the stars started to glow, and Mr. Shit saw a shooting star. So, the shit hit the UFO train and so they started to put this together. Some of their favorite punks over the years.
As Mr. Shit said,
“Dudes are dudes, punks are punks but dudes who are punkers… they rule the cosmos, music wise and space wise!”
The Ancient Alien dudes were not to be found, only David Wilcock who just happens to live in the Santa Monica Mountains. Where his “Natural stargates, or “time doors,” are discussed at this point. Mr. Fuck saw David share a trash can down the alley from his home, which is a bomb-shelter . They both take part in freeganism. Mr. Fuck believes in David’s theory of a parallel reality too.
From the Dead Kennedy’s to Plain Wrap, including all guitars, drums or loud singing; to the delectable, delicious orange drink Tang; the rockets, a flying sarcophagus, aliens, bright lights or abductions…
The crew at Flopside Comics blasts off screaming,
“All rockets a Go Go…”
Mr. Shit wants to thank Elon and Jeff for their inspiration, which he will not repeat here.
I feel a need to share these three Flopside Comics today. It has been awhile since I have. The female collective psyche is taking a blow right now. This is my way of walking us all through it. A friend once asked me,
“But is it, Art?”
That is not the point. Instead it is creative expression by someone who likes to express her throat chakra often for healing purposes.
As this gal here is good at doing. BAUBO PORTAGONIST got Demeter to laugh after losing her lovely child Persephone.
This is a Flopside Bubblegum Comic I did a few years back. I like to doodle and when I had my HP Printer it came with an online creative app that offered many different options for creative endeavor. The left and right handed kind.
Today Kerry Love Canal, as I affectionately think of him, asked for my rock drawings to add to his site. I may take him up on his offer. Back to doing what I do best, doodle.
SO, here is one I resurrect for Kerry.
Now I must find a creative app that goes with my new Kyocera Printer. I think the best of life is having creative endeavors.
“We Have To Play With Ourselves”
Click on image box to be tickled by Punk Rock Singers Gone Mad! Baby
Supreme Court says gay, transgender workers are protected by federal law forbidding discrimination on the basis of sex.
Mr. Fuck the recluse has not been around for some time. He is underground in our bomb shelter. He comes out at night on trash night to go through people’s trash for food. He practices “freeganism.” Sometimes he asks me for cigarettes and a beer. I guess he does keep up with the news and today I saw him out in the bright of the day with his pussy hat on, with purple gloves and black mask. He wears them going through trash, has for years. Anyway, he was happy to embrace the only good news out for some time. Here is a portrait he let me do of him awhile back. I put my speakers close to the window so we could dance to his favorite song… then he went back down into our bomb shelter. Do not know when he will pop up again. He is kind of like the wild raccoons and possums and praying mantis … they are on their own schedules… occasionally they let themselves be seen in our garden. He is clean and collects plastic bags to throw his waste and trash away. He is a lot like having a cat around, but he cleans up after himself. I used to love to hug him. A good fight now and then too.