As part of our ongoing dedication to preserving our nation’s cultural ephemera, LP dot com is pleased to present captions from rejected New Yorker cartoons, 1920-present.
“Rodney, for God’s sake, control your Negroes.”
“Prepare a standard sodomy clause, Miss Scunthorpe.”
“It’s sort of a cook-out, only with horsemeat and machineguns.”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter, mother. They’re all just pills.”
“That’s not Debbie Reynolds‘ vagina, is it?”
“We don’t say ‘bow-legged’ anymore, dear. We call it ‘Uncle Henry’s Disease’.”
“Honestly, Tracy. The Nazi uniforms are a bit much.”
“Well, thank God it was Oklahoma City, and not anyplace with good restaurants.”
“I see Linda Hunt as the chimp. Of course we’ll have to shave her first.”
“…and of course, since then, I keep a roto-tiller in all the bathrooms.”
“Next thing you’ll be telling me is that Mussolini doesn’t really have a cock that’s three inches long but as big around as a coffee can.”
“Just mop it up, Taylor. Use one of the poor.”
“It’s a delightful Belhaven with a presumptuous charcoaly head and a sweet but firm dollop of boiled strychnine.”
“Take a hike, buddy. We’re filming Road to Jonestown here.”
“Dog ass! Dog ass! I keep telling you, dog ass!”
“You don’t honestly think you’re going to get this cartoon, do you? You’re from Sioux City, for the love of Christ. It’s a wonder you can read without moving your lips.”
“Aaaaah, that Hirschfield can go fuck himself sideways.”
“Have you met my new catamite? Tielhard du Chardin vouches for him personally.”
“I just needed a place to cook, mom.”
“That’s my husband Edward, that’s the Victorian chaise lounge we got from his grandfather, and that’s the pickled testicles of President Roosevelt.”
“I’d love for you to meet him. He’s one of the dark gods, you know.”
“They’re calling it an unsolved murder, but they haven’t asked me yet.”
“What time is it? I have a court date at nine and I haven’t even washed off my genitals.”
“Oh, I thought you said Cambodian Genesee.”
“I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KILL YOU FUCKERS IF I HAVE TO DRAW ANOTHER OF THESE FUCKING CARTOONS”
“Well, obviously, Geoffrey, we all hope the Allies lose the war.”
“The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weeks old.”
“Showgirls. Why do you ask, Your Holiness?”
“Sure, the flesh-eating zombies sucking the half-digested food out of my intestines is a hassle, but you can’t believe the rent.”
“I say it’s spinach, and I say it can take a long slow drag on my goolies.”
“Oh, and I suppose you want to be the only one who gets to sell nuclear secrets to the Soviets, too.”
“(cartoon caption consists of verbatim transcript of James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake)“