Being a slasher is dangerous work, and not just from victims fighting back with guns, sewing needles, and fire. Handling sharp tools, chainsaws, and other implements of destruction on a regular basis is bound to result in the occasional accident or, as illustrated above, repetitive muscle strain. Good posture, a relaxed grip, and a regular stretch regime are essential. Don’t worry though, a bit of rest, ice, compression, and Excedrin should have Jason back in fighting shape for this year’s special snowy Friday the 13th in December.
In the original Frankenstein (you know, that book thing), Doctor Frankenstein’s scorned “fiend” wants nothing more out of life than to hook up with a sexy Frankenchick he can escape with to some remote location (preferably with a cabin and a hot tub) to watch Netflix and chill.
Dr. Dickhead agrees to the plan, and creates a smoking hot Frankenbabe in his laboratory. Looking at his splendid creation, however, Frankenstein is horrified at the possibility of creating a race of monsters should his manufactured offspring ever crawl under the sheets together.
So that’s when he…
The cartoon tells the rest of the story, deviating just slightly from the book. Udo Kier gives his stamp of approval.
Thank you for reading. Please return next week for another round of horror comedy comics from Grinsane!
Grinsane stands with the more than 300 newspapers and media outlets who today are denouncing Trump’s attacks on the press (long-standing source of many cartoons!)
Freedom of Speech is messy business. To have the freedom to say anything, one of our greatest freedoms in this country, you have to put up with others saying things you don’t want to hear. This is true whether you publish a newspaper, make movies, write books, or draw cartoons. Currently, Freedom of Speech is under attack from both sides of the political spectrum, but the position of power held by the President of the United States makes it particularly dangerous when the attacks come from him.
Donald Trump started his Presidency by exaggerating the crowd size at his inauguration, for which he was corrected by the press, and it’s been a non-stop battle ever since. The Washington Post now has a list of over 4000 lies and half truths told by the President. So when the President accuses the press of lying or Fake News it seems like a classic deflection strategy of accusing others of doing exactly what one is doing oneself.
But even more sinister than Trump spreading lies are his followers feeding on them like food pellets. Not all Trump supporters are cast from the same mold of course — when it comes to choosing a President in the United States, you get two choices, which isn’t exactly a lot of options. But those lies must really taste good to some of them. To put on a Red Hat and rally in stadium for a man who not only shears the truth but pumps his own product full of fear and hatred is almost beyond comprehension. It speaks to a larger horror, which is the capacity of humans to believe anything, no matter how absurd, and then to wear a funny hat about it.
That’s where the Nurse comes in. Have you found this particular Easter egg while playing Silent Hill? Follow the purple bubbles to the secret room in Brookhaven. One can only hope that the Enema of Truth eventually rises up from the nether regions of these fluffy white creatures and reaches their bovid brains to neutralize all that Trump junk.
Keep the press free, and your own mind, too! Even if you support Trump, please denounce his attacks on the media.
Check in next week for more horror comedy cartoons (and no politics).
I just learned about “manspreading” a couple weeks ago, and knew I had to draw an emergency cartoon on this important subject. I found out about it while reading one of my favorite comics, Bizarro, which did a cartoon on “mansplaining” and, since people no longer know what war is, were tearing one another to pieces in the comments section of the cartoon as if the fate of the free world were at stake.
In the process of mansplaining, femsplaining, and Mickey Spillaining the meaning of meaning of mansplaining to one another, the topic of manspreading came up. In case you don’t know, manspreading refers to dudes who spread their legs too wide in public places, taking up too much space. On the subway, it means riding the train like a horse into battle instead of being nice and sharing with other people.
Manspreading, a truly barbaric practice
So yeah, manspreading is really a thing, so much so that the City of New York has signs on the subway telling people not to do it (as well as condemning other acts of space hogging rudeness, like primping ones hair and swinging on the safety pole like a stripper).
Obviously people are pretty upset by this kind of thing, or the New York Transit Authority wouldn’t take precious dollars away from their graffiti removal fund to make signs telling dudes to keep their balls properly tucked. And some women are extra pissed because manspreading represents yet another way in which men attempt to dominate the world by swinging their equipment around. Meanwhile, the ice caps are melting while people fight about this stuff. Welcome to America, 2018.
Personally, I’m not too worried about manspreading. I live in one of the most unpopulated states in the country for exactly this reason. I don’t want to be near your aerating balls, and I don’t want to get a ticket if mine need to breath. Frankly, the fact that New York City has a sweaty nard problem makes me even more glad I live on the edge of a barren desert that has more coyotes and jackrabbits than people.
So allow me to manposit for a moment: if a guy can’t even cool his nuts without generating signage, and a woman can’t get a seat without being ball blocked, are we maybe living a little bit too close together? I was just in New York City, and that place is way too crowded. I mean, we’re talking Koyaanisqatsi numbers of people stumbling over one another, breathing one another’s farts like air, and being squeezed like Tetris blocks into ever shrinking spaces. I went to a restaurant and was literally sat at a table with complete strangers. This is one of those things New Yorkers probably chuckle about and consider charming but, sorry, no thanks, I came for the food not the extra company.
Thankfully, everyone at the table kept their nuts properly pinched between their knees. If they didn’t, my fork was going into action.
By the way, elephantitis of the nuts is a real thing. Do not Google it. Do not. I’m not kidding. You’ve been warned.
Ten years ago it seemed like a fella couldn’t go on a hunting or fishing trip without coming home buttsore from an alien abduction. Today, we hear very little of such events. A few possible theories:
• SOCIAL CHANGE AMONGST THE ALIENS. Just as we have animal rights activists fighting against animal experimentation, aliens may have similar elements in their society seeking to end experimentation on lower life forms. In other words, it’s no longer alien PC to probe us.
• THEY FIGURED US OUT ALREADY. How many rednecks does one really need to finger to discover what humans are made of “on the inside”? After probing half the male population of Wyoming, they have their data on us and moved on to the next phase, like planning their forthcoming invasion of Earth and preparing the human slaughter chamber / meat processing facility on the dark side of the moon.
• ALIEN ABDUCTIONS ARE JUST TOO COMMONPLACE. Kind of like complaining about Comcast customer service, or freeway traffic, or the satanic influence of Dungeons and Dragons. Blah blah blah, who cares? Alien abductions are still happening around us every day, but people just don’t talk about them anymore, because no one is interested in hearing about them because they star you instead of Jennifer Lawrence. If you haven’t been abducted yet, take a number and get in line. Even the aliens own propaganda network, the Discovery Channel, has backed away from alien stories to present new informational atrocities.
• GROWING ACCEPTANCE OF HOMOSEXUALITY IN SOCIETY. This is the most likely possibility in my opinion. Consider the structure of the average male “weekend with the buddies” camping trip: Men deep in the woods without women; lots of alcohol loosening up scruples (and belt buckles); playing with guns and rods; bears. You might as well throw a pink umbrella in that cocktail. Nowadays men are more likely to accept a g(r)ay moment in their lives, but 10 years ago it was psychologically easier to attribute the hazy masked rituals of the church man camp to aliens.
Thank you for visiting Grinsane! I hope you enjoyed this special science fiction horror cartoon installment. Stay tuned next week for… um… I don’t yet, but I’ll think of something (send topics).
