This...this is just seven kinds of awful. Why, Davie Jones? Why?
From The Cher Show, by way of Popdose.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
"Simon's Cat" by Simon Tofield
These cartoons are simple, stellar, hilarious and, alas, all too real. Enjoy!
Thanks to Cartoon Brew for the heads-up!
Thanks to Cartoon Brew for the heads-up!
Monday, March 10, 2008
The Catalog of Unfit Toys
Hey, Guys!
I've decided to bring my book proposal online (complete with daily updates) in the hopes of generating interest and feedback as I move towards publication or rejection. If you have a moment, please check it out here.
Thank you!
Ces
Friday, March 7, 2008
He Does WHAT for a Living?
After 25 years, countless questions,an interminable period of unemployment, a part-time job in a toy store and that week he danced under the name "Cinnamon Dandy," Ted Forth's actual profession will be revealed tomorrow, Saturday March 8th, in Sally Forth.
Gather the kids, get the camera, try to pretend to give a damn and consider for one last time if any of the following is Ted's true long-standing career:
A Renegade Cop Who Plays by His Own Rules:
"Is that blood?! Oh, God, tell me that's not blood! AUGH! It's blood! It's blood!!! Blood on my pants! Somebody catch me..."
NASCAR Pit Crew Member:
"Seriously, none of you guys saw the Colin Firth 'Pride & Prejudice'? In a word--divine!"
Pastry Chef:
"Not bad...if 'croquembouche' is French for 'travesty'!!!"
Mob Accountant:
"Italian sausages on toasted rolls with sweet pepper and onion saute? That's...that's not a proper breakfast. Here, let me make you some of my patented 'Ted Tahoe Brunch'..."
Gay Porn Star:
"Oh...oh my..."
Gas Station Attendant:
"I think the problem with your car is the corpuscle...wait, is that right?"
Drifter/Hobo:
"You just have to make do with what you find. See, some mayo, a highlighter, old aluminum foil and viola! Frosted tips!"
Lion Tamer:
"Not the face! Not the face!!!"
Gather the kids, get the camera, try to pretend to give a damn and consider for one last time if any of the following is Ted's true long-standing career:
A Renegade Cop Who Plays by His Own Rules:
"Is that blood?! Oh, God, tell me that's not blood! AUGH! It's blood! It's blood!!! Blood on my pants! Somebody catch me..."
NASCAR Pit Crew Member:
"Seriously, none of you guys saw the Colin Firth 'Pride & Prejudice'? In a word--divine!"
Pastry Chef:
"Not bad...if 'croquembouche' is French for 'travesty'!!!"
Mob Accountant:
"Italian sausages on toasted rolls with sweet pepper and onion saute? That's...that's not a proper breakfast. Here, let me make you some of my patented 'Ted Tahoe Brunch'..."
Gay Porn Star:
"Oh...oh my..."
Gas Station Attendant:
"I think the problem with your car is the corpuscle...wait, is that right?"
Drifter/Hobo:
"You just have to make do with what you find. See, some mayo, a highlighter, old aluminum foil and viola! Frosted tips!"
Lion Tamer:
"Not the face! Not the face!!!"
Thursday, March 6, 2008
"I told you. I wake up every day, right here, right in Punxsutawney, and it's always February 2nd, and there's nothing I can do about it."
Several readers have written to me asking why the Sally Forth strip for Tuesday, March 4 appeared yet again online for Wednesday, March 5.
First, thank you for paying enough attention to note that I normally do write a different strip each day. Second, the repeat appears to be a Web glitch. I am told that the print editions ran the correct version (although I have to take that on faith since Sally Forth currently does not run in Manhattan).
Until I can retrieve a scan of the missing strip in question, please enjoy the following transcript for yesterday's actual Sally Forth. Consider it a radio play, minus the Ovaltine sponsorship...and probably any audible laughs.
Wednesday
1. Scene: Forth Study, Evening. Ted sits at the family computer, typing away. Sally stands behind him, leaning down to wrap her arms around Ted’s shoulders as she kisses him on the cheek with closed eyes. Ted looks at the monitor with #2.
S: What are you working on?
T: Crafting a grabber of an opening sentence for this cover letter.
2. Cut to close-up of Sally, looking over Ted’s shoulder as she reads what he wrote on the monitor. Sally #3. Ted #3a.
S: “Ever since I was a kid I’ve dreamt of a position in farm equipment sales and services.”
3. Sally and Ted look at each other. Both #3
S: That’s not true, is it?
T: Actually, I’m afraid of threshers.
First, thank you for paying enough attention to note that I normally do write a different strip each day. Second, the repeat appears to be a Web glitch. I am told that the print editions ran the correct version (although I have to take that on faith since Sally Forth currently does not run in Manhattan).
Until I can retrieve a scan of the missing strip in question, please enjoy the following transcript for yesterday's actual Sally Forth. Consider it a radio play, minus the Ovaltine sponsorship...and probably any audible laughs.
Wednesday
1. Scene: Forth Study, Evening. Ted sits at the family computer, typing away. Sally stands behind him, leaning down to wrap her arms around Ted’s shoulders as she kisses him on the cheek with closed eyes. Ted looks at the monitor with #2.
S: What are you working on?
T: Crafting a grabber of an opening sentence for this cover letter.
2. Cut to close-up of Sally, looking over Ted’s shoulder as she reads what he wrote on the monitor. Sally #3. Ted #3a.
S: “Ever since I was a kid I’ve dreamt of a position in farm equipment sales and services.”
3. Sally and Ted look at each other. Both #3
S: That’s not true, is it?
T: Actually, I’m afraid of threshers.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
It's All a Lie
Following today's revelation today that the critically-acclaimed memoir Love and Consequences by Margaret B. Jones is in fact a complete fabrication--which comes a scant week after it was revealed the best-selling Holocaust memoir Misha: A Mémoire of the Holocaust Years is a fake and two years after A Million Little Pieces author James Frey had deceived a nation and, even more egregiously, Oprah--I feel I must finally come clean to all my blog and Sally Forth readers.
My name is not "Francesco Marciuliano." In fact, there never was a "Francesco Marciuliano." And, most importantly, there has never been a strip called Sally Forth.
I am actually Lou Stanton, a building contractor in North Bend, Washington who simply wanted to achieve some recognition and a satisfactory level of renown by pretending to be a cartoonist with an unpronounceable surname. Or I'm Henry Ribar, a strategic sourcing manager in La Jolla, California with a lovely wife, two adorable kids and a cute-as-a-button Yorkshire Terrier. Or I'm Miss Anna Mae Lumpkin, clinical diabetes researcher in the Woodhall Mountains of Mississippi. It doesn't matter, really, since like I said I don't exist.
My story started to unravel last Thursday when a person kept calling me "Francesco Marciuliano" straight to my face for a full 45 minutes and I had no idea they were talking to me. They then reached out to shake me into awareness, only to discover that I am imaginary and they were throttling a Hear Music display at Starbucks (which would be a nice place to enjoy coffee if only there ever were such a place).
Further investigation revealed that while a "Francesco Marciuliano" had graduated from Duke University in the late 80's, he did so at age 21 and since I am age 40, we clearly could not be the same person (this leading to the possibility of identity fraud, which will easily be dismissed when it is learned I just created the phrase "Duke University"). I should also note that any and all pictures of me on the Internet ("Internet"--where do I come up with these words?) are complete fabrications and there is only one extant photograph of the real me, which I used as my "author photo" when I wrote Gravity's Rainbow and V. (also a lie, since neither book--or any book, for that matter--has ever existed...just like the previously mentioned but unreal photograph and supposed "me").
As for Sally Forth, a cursory search Google and Wikipedia (two funny names I just made up) reveals that while there was indeed a comic strip by that name it revolved around an oft-nude action adventure character, was targeted to a male military readership and was discontinued back in 1974 (or so I just wrote, since reality is but a shared illusion and as long as I can get a handful of people to believe such a strip existed then we can say it did). Had I known this I would have certainly named my imaginary comic something else to avoid confusion, returning to my original fake idea of a strip called Bring Home the Bacon, focusing on the life of a wife and mother who works full-time work at an abattoir. I apologize to all my readers and fans who made the strip a daily part of their lives for the past 26 years only now to realize they had never done such.
In response to my disclosure about the true nature of Sally Forth, I'm pretending my fictitious syndicate King Features released the following made-up statement:
"We have no idea what he is talking about. Ignore him. He clearly is a sick, sick man...Wait, if the syndicate doesn't exist then I am clearly writing this false statement, so why on earth would I call myself 'sick'? Couldn't I say that I'm 'charming' or at least 'not prone to warts'? How about 'doesn't stink to high heaven'? That would have certainly been better than 'sick.' Hmm...I wonder if I'm having some sort of mental breakdown right about now. La dee da, la da da..."
Once again. I deeply regret my deception and apologize to all those who think they are reading this nonexistent blog post right now, since in addition to both me and the comic being complete fabrications, so is the blog, Blogger and your computer. Everything you have perceived is in fact an all-encompassing hallucination due to crippling Lewy body dementia, In fact, you are currently running naked and screaming through the Delta hub at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, trying to outrun a Cinnabon. Please stop, take several deep, cleansing breaths and let the nice men with the billy clubs take you to a place of rest and prolonged examination.
My name is not "Francesco Marciuliano." In fact, there never was a "Francesco Marciuliano." And, most importantly, there has never been a strip called Sally Forth.
I am actually Lou Stanton, a building contractor in North Bend, Washington who simply wanted to achieve some recognition and a satisfactory level of renown by pretending to be a cartoonist with an unpronounceable surname. Or I'm Henry Ribar, a strategic sourcing manager in La Jolla, California with a lovely wife, two adorable kids and a cute-as-a-button Yorkshire Terrier. Or I'm Miss Anna Mae Lumpkin, clinical diabetes researcher in the Woodhall Mountains of Mississippi. It doesn't matter, really, since like I said I don't exist.
My story started to unravel last Thursday when a person kept calling me "Francesco Marciuliano" straight to my face for a full 45 minutes and I had no idea they were talking to me. They then reached out to shake me into awareness, only to discover that I am imaginary and they were throttling a Hear Music display at Starbucks (which would be a nice place to enjoy coffee if only there ever were such a place).
Further investigation revealed that while a "Francesco Marciuliano" had graduated from Duke University in the late 80's, he did so at age 21 and since I am age 40, we clearly could not be the same person (this leading to the possibility of identity fraud, which will easily be dismissed when it is learned I just created the phrase "Duke University"). I should also note that any and all pictures of me on the Internet ("Internet"--where do I come up with these words?) are complete fabrications and there is only one extant photograph of the real me, which I used as my "author photo" when I wrote Gravity's Rainbow and V. (also a lie, since neither book--or any book, for that matter--has ever existed...just like the previously mentioned but unreal photograph and supposed "me").
As for Sally Forth, a cursory search Google and Wikipedia (two funny names I just made up) reveals that while there was indeed a comic strip by that name it revolved around an oft-nude action adventure character, was targeted to a male military readership and was discontinued back in 1974 (or so I just wrote, since reality is but a shared illusion and as long as I can get a handful of people to believe such a strip existed then we can say it did). Had I known this I would have certainly named my imaginary comic something else to avoid confusion, returning to my original fake idea of a strip called Bring Home the Bacon, focusing on the life of a wife and mother who works full-time work at an abattoir. I apologize to all my readers and fans who made the strip a daily part of their lives for the past 26 years only now to realize they had never done such.
In response to my disclosure about the true nature of Sally Forth, I'm pretending my fictitious syndicate King Features released the following made-up statement:
"We have no idea what he is talking about. Ignore him. He clearly is a sick, sick man...Wait, if the syndicate doesn't exist then I am clearly writing this false statement, so why on earth would I call myself 'sick'? Couldn't I say that I'm 'charming' or at least 'not prone to warts'? How about 'doesn't stink to high heaven'? That would have certainly been better than 'sick.' Hmm...I wonder if I'm having some sort of mental breakdown right about now. La dee da, la da da..."
Once again. I deeply regret my deception and apologize to all those who think they are reading this nonexistent blog post right now, since in addition to both me and the comic being complete fabrications, so is the blog, Blogger and your computer. Everything you have perceived is in fact an all-encompassing hallucination due to crippling Lewy body dementia, In fact, you are currently running naked and screaming through the Delta hub at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, trying to outrun a Cinnabon. Please stop, take several deep, cleansing breaths and let the nice men with the billy clubs take you to a place of rest and prolonged examination.
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