Friday, June 27, 2008
Punch Him in the Ink Sac!
I guess the (busty!) Octoid Men of Luvan are fond of wearing matronly one-piece swim suits, with their terminal spermatophoric ducts tucked between their legs.
Posted by Jeremy Rizza at 12:41 PM 6 comments:
Labels: copious boobery, cross-dressing
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Damn Viking Hippies!
"...Specifically, from my pubes. Also, I made earrings for you. Carved 'em from some of my denser stools! ...Hey, where are you going--?"
(Meanwhile, Kristen's trampy friend Hilde is traipsing about with that jewel-encrusted gold crown that her boyfriend Erik pillaged for her.)
Posted by Jeremy Rizza at 5:25 AM 3 comments:
Labels: criminal accessories
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Bikini Area 51
I hope Chameleon Boy remembers to thank Shrinking Violet for letting him borrow her blouse and panties.
What in the Sam Hill is going on here, you might ask, if you were a comic-relief "old prospector" character from a Hollywood Western? It's pretty simple, really. Let me break it down for you:
- Chameleon Boy is sweet on Jan. Sadly...
- Chameleon Boy is too shy to "make the first move", so...
- Chameleon Boy has resorted to a trick taught to him by Timber Wolf...
- And has shown up in her room with no trousers on. Unfortunately...
- Chameleon Boy forgot to shape-shift himself some genitalia.
Posted by Jeremy Rizza at 4:10 AM 10 comments:
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Now, Which Osmond Brother Is He Supposed To Be...?
Princess Projectra should apologize immediately, as Chameleon Boy's plan is obviously fool-proof.
Chameleon Boy is a little bit creepy, and a little bit rock-and-roll.
Posted by Jeremy Rizza at 6:13 AM 10 comments:
Labels: Chameleon Boy, phonies, Princess Projectra
Monday, June 23, 2008
"Wow, Shock Absorbers!"
The next day at school, all three of these drama club nerds received the beatings of their young lives.
The icing on the cake for me is the top hats. I get the feeling the kids already owned the hats, which they probably purchased themselves, no doubt with money earned from working in a tea room. Why, they were just itching to wear these debonair chapeaus out in public! Before, they'd mainly used the hats for impromptu stagings of "A Chorus Line." Am I right, kid?
Well, okay then.
(Finally: Parade-Hater Horace and Jeremy Rizza: separated at birth? It's an uncanny resemblance, if you ask me. I never did see both of them at the same time.)
Posted by Jeremy Rizza at 4:48 AM 11 comments:
Labels: kicky little hat, panache
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