definitely surreal. it's as if salvador dali meets gary larson meets john cleese. sort of an artistic frankenstein, with the blending of thoughts and images.
-The clothes don’t make the man, the man makes the clothes. Or, sometimes, little children do. -I believe in the Art of War. I’d stab Jackson Pollack and splatter his blood all over a canvas. -Lawyers are fish. They are slimy and they’ll all take debate. -A hand of cards is like a pile of clothes. Don’t fold them unless you suspect someone will see a wrinkle of weakness. -My grandpa broke a mirror the year before he died. When he died the next year, all he left me in his will was the remaining six years of bad luck. And I got taxed on it too. -I want to be a heart surgeon. I want to save loves. -A diet is death without the t. -I fell in love once. I sprained my wrist. -I used to want to be a superhero, but I never really liked how my legs looked in spandex. -I have a broken mirror over my bed. Perhaps that’s the reason the only pussy that gets on my bed is a black cat. -Greatness is a cheese you have to mold and culture. -Greatness comes in many forms. Forms not to be filled out, but to be filled in. -This comes from the heart, so pardon the blood. -After a week of running my mouth, I was forced to eat my words. I immediately threw up a dictionary. -Jarod Kintz 2005
-Half of the people are stupid. The other half are brilliant. He represents the middle half. -Fifty percent of what I say is only half true. The other fifty percent is based on the first fifty percent, half the time. -In heaven, everybody wears clean white shirts. I’ll be the only guy walking around with spaghetti sauce on his collar. -Just because you have Fred Astaire fingers, nimble as they dance along the keyboard, doesn’t can you can write. -Eternity is a long time to spend on your back. -A small fraction of the population doesn’t even understand division. Yet they are the ones that multiply the fastest. -I love reading comics while making a poo. Then, if the comic is bad, I wipe myself with it and give it to my little brother to read.-Maurice McFeces -Your parents don’t approve of you having sex, but your kids will. -Sex is a family affair. -My husband’s breath stinks. I think he should take his foot out of his mouth more often. -I used to be a fireman. I am afraid of heights, so I used to bring my best friend along to help me get cats out of trees. I had to stop bringing him though because he kept peeing on the fire hydrants. -In heaven there is no traffic because your schedule is spread out over millennia instead of days. But I’ll still get pissed off waiting fifteen seconds at a traffic light. -A gay man would never wear a strait jacket. -Death starts when life ends. But when life starts, what ends? Maybe it’s some game show where you have to choose something behind three closed doors. Next time, I’m knocking first and if my parents answer, I’m out of there. -It’s bad luck to walk under an Arab ladder. A camel will piss on you. (Arab ladder, bladder) -The oil business is too crude for me. -I haven’t met many lawyers that I didn’t like. But then again, I haven’t met many lawyers. _Jarod Kintz 2005
“Which leaves three inches,” I quickly say. “I’m claiming two of those,” My face goes taut as I realize what I have just said. “Two inches?” Stalin says. “I didn’t figure you one for hyperbole,” and all three of them laugh at me as my face turns red. -Sex is great anytime so long as it’s now. -Sex is great with anybody so long as it’s me. -Sex is for extroverts. Masturbation is for introverts. -The cost of college is rising, yet college students paid more intuition than the school of hard knocks. But once they hit the real world they find all their tuition and intuition might have been better saved then spent. -Making love should be passionate. Otherwise, you might as well have sex with your wife. -Sex is best in pairs. I mean, who wants to watch bananas fornicate? -One plus one equals fornication. But so does one plus three. -Everybody’s got to die sooner or later. But then again, I’m not everybody. -Michael Jackson desperately wants to get in touch with his inner child. -Jarod Kintz 2005
-Of course God exists. I spoke to him yesterday. He told me to tell you to bring some marshmallows to your funeral. -John Gooden Vs. Joseph Stalin. A classic example of Gooden Vs. Evil. -In every person’s nature there exists a duel. A war raging between you and your fool. -Being a genius is like living in a mansion of the mind. Being insane is like being locked in one of the closets. Good thing your locked in, because that’s where the treasure is. -Thomas Gaint, who paints a picture with blood on a canvas made of human flesh. His stories tell of suffering, mostly as he makes the canvas. As the saying goes, no paint no Gaint. -I’ve always envied bums living in boxes. It makes it really easy to move. -Sex is a beautiful thing. So is a sunset. Both can be enjoyed from a porch swing. -The future has a way of sneaking up behind you, much like a midget in the night. -A deadline is a joyous occasion. One that calls for jump-roping. Or maybe skipping. -Learning is a curve best taken strait on. -I’m currently learning how to learn how to learn. -I go to the drycleaners to get my jacket cleaned. There I meet a pirate who tells me, “It’s not about the chest, it’s all about the booty,” and “booty is in the eye of the beholder.” When I go to pick up my jacket, our jackets have been swapped, and in the pirates jacket is a map to Atlantis, where God is rumored to live. -The ancient druids were stoners. -“I’m sexually impoverished.” “Maybe you should get on whorefare and let Uncle Sam screw you.” -An albino midget with two crutches and a wooden leg makes for a great barstool. -I’ll open the door for my wife if she’ll close her mouth. -Mr. Fizzlebush walks out onto the deck and sees me talking with Leif and Stalin. “There are four guys on the deck right now and only twelve inches of cock,” he smiles. “Yeah, and I’m packing nine of that,” Leif laughs. -Jarod Kintz 2005
-Dad’s always have a favorite child. They prefer the one they give birth to. -I was so hungry I my stomach was growling. So I decided to eat my own leg. Or was that a vicious wolf? -The government’s pockets are deeper than their knowledge of economics. Unfortunately, those are the people’s pockets. And that’s why I don’t wear any pants. -It’s hard to brainwash a country when you can only fit three people in a dishwasher at one time. -Some people think nature is their God. I’d like to apologize to all those people for pissing on their religion. -It’s hard to get even when you’re so odd. –Thus sayeth the prime number who joined the circus. -Ones can’t dance. They’ll step on your twos. -I can’t dunce. I was born with two left brains. -Dance with your destiny. Just don’t trip over your own fate. -An old man named Adam goes shopping naked and slips on some apple pie and breaks his bone. Headline reads: Adam Falls In Time Of Nude. -Just because God’s invisible doesn’t mean you can’t see him. -Life is too funny for God not to exist. Who else would laugh at me smashing my penis with a hammer after thinking about nailing my neighbor’s wife? -Jarod Kintz 2005
-The brain is split into two hemispheres, just like the earth. And when I drink alcohol, my brain spins faster than the earth’s rotation. -I don’t want to be old and senile. I believe my body is a temple. And who wants to desecrate a temple by pissing all over it? -“You can tell a lot about a person’s character by the way the author makes use of dialogue,” I say. “Very true,” Mr. Fizzlebush responds. “Some men are very shady. Living life under the canopy of trees makes a monkey out of a man.” “The blackest part of a man’s being is his shadow. A man who has no shadow is a shady man, engulfed by the darkness,” I slowly shake my head. -Take pride in your workweek, not your weak work. -Strength rises from weakness like an erection in the night. -As an orange farmer, I don’t believe in mixing business with pleasure. That’s why I drink my vodka strait. -When life gives you lemons, squeeze the shit out of your balls and you’ll forget all about your worldly troubles. -Half of what I write is garbage. But if I don’t write it down it decomposes in my head. -I used to fear the monsters in my closet. They must have been gay and just never came out. -If humor were a climate, you’d be a desert in winter. -Sometimes opportunity doesn’t knock, it rings the doorbell. And sometimes it brings a pizza with it too. -College is filled with lots of girls who have no class. -Jarod Kintz 2005
-Oak Island is the portal to Atlantis. But the only way to penetrate the booby trap is to dress like nipples. -Babe Ruth might have said, The Ruth shall set you free. I could make glove to another woman and my wife wouldn’t even bat an eye. But she has me by the balls. In nine sinnings the game is tied like my tongue. I don’t want to strike out at you, but our umpire of love is crumbling. -Today I threw out my back, but now I can’t find the replacement so I am slithering across the carpet like ringworm. -Defeat always start at the ankles -Jelloman and Spoonboy fight the perils of obesity with shaving cream. -Sex is like investing. Sometimes it takes little or no money, just a lot of time and haggling. -Orgasms are like bananas. Best in bunches. -“I’m just trying to find my faith,” Leif says. “For you to want to find your faith implies that it is lost. Perhaps your faith isn’t lost, maybe you are,” Magnetman says. “Of course I’m lost,” Leif, replies, “I’ve been following the North star in the southern sky heading east. I need a compass.” “In life there is no compass. You’ve got to find your own direction.” Magnetman says. “Easy for you to say, you’re a walking map. All you have to do is become Hindu, put a dot on your forehead and say, ‘you are here.” Leif laughs. -Jarod Kintz 2005
The importance of wearing shoes: warmth escapes from two places, your head and your feet. And a shoe, preferably a high top, can stop warm air escaping from either the top of the head or the neck. -Jarod Kintz
I wish insane came in a lollipop, of all varieties. THere would be cherry sociopath, vanilla schizophrenia, and watermelon O.C.D. And instead of sucking on it, you would thrust it into your eye. -Jarod Kintz
I'm going to change my name to "They." Then when people ask,"What did they say?" the people will respond, "nothing. He just kind of sat there looking stupid." -Jarod Kintz
I know a broke painter who paints with his hair. Only he is bald so his canvases are blank. He is always trying to get people toupee for his pieces. -Jarod Kintz
Not getting laid can be a crippling experience. But then I don’t go looking for sex on the interstate. But here recently, I have been so lonely I have seriously thought about looking for some strange. Today started out like yesterday, gloomy. And I don’t mean just my disposition either. The sky was this fickle gray, too watered down to be energizing, yet well beyond hazy. It’s now 2:37 in the afternoon. I just got up about thirty minutes ago. I hardly ever get up this early anymore. With all the late night drinking binges, and the desperation of my life, I just find comfort in the middle of the night when I’m absolutely alone. It just magnifies my outlook on life, I think. But right now I am headed to my therapist, Nancy, for my weekly session. Nancy is a pretty brunette in her mid thirties. In her office she has a desk, where she sits, and for the patients there is a couch and two chairs. Every time I go in there I sit in a different spot. Today I have decided to sit on the floor in the corner, just to throw her off a bit. I think she is of the Freudian school, because we talk a lot about my sex life, or lack thereof. I pull into her building’s parking lot and choose a spot underneath a tree. In the summer heat, I’ll be glad I did when I come out in an hour. I am ten minutes early so I decide to get out and smoke. Just as I light up, and I am staring out into the traffic, I see a blue Mercedes drive by. The driver is a pretty blond woman. Damn, it’s her. Today is going to be a real winner of a day I can already feel it. My anxiety causes me to practically swallow the cigarette and each drag is like a gulp of air for a drowning man. I flick the butt of the cigarette on the pavement as I walk across the parking lot and open the door of Nancy’s office building. The wave of air-conditioning hits me like an eighty-year-old champion boxer. It’s 3:03 so I walk right into Nancy’s office and sit on the sofa. I am so worked up I forget about my little game with the seating arrangement. I am greeted by her warm voice. “Hello, Jarod. I hope you have had a better week than last week,” she says with a smile in her blue eyes. “Better? If by better you mean I am one step closer to the bottom, and therefore one step towards ascension, then yes, this week is better than last week.” I pause to revoke the frustration in my voice. “I’m sorry. It’s been a rough morning.” “Start at the beginning. Right from when you left here last week,” she is looking down at her notebook that she doodles in while I am talking. I don’t know if she is writing poetry, taking notes, or drawing phallus’ in there. None of those would surprise me. “Did you go out drinking at a bar at all last week?” “Please. The rant is cheap when you live in a bar. I get so tired of the sob stories people tell me in there. If they really wanted to waste money and have a friendly ear, they should seek professional help.” I look up slowly to see her reaction. “Of course you know I am just joking. You are wonderful, Nancy. No I didn’t go to any bars, I lost my helmet.” “Your helmet?” She asks inquisitively. “I always wear a helmet to the bar. Alcohol is the motorcycle of beverages. Liver fast, die young.” “Yet you drink like a camel. Is that your intention? To go out like a rock star?” She questions me. “Rock star? No, my band is still looking to replace our lead air guitarist. He had to quit after an all night session left his fingers shredded and bloody. I hear he’s taken up finger painting.” She always plays along with my games and leads me on. “Are you interested in paintings?” “Well, I had a friend named Art. One day I took him to a museum, hung him on the wall, criticized him and left.” “That’s pretty funny. I’ll bet he was an abstract kind of guy,” she responds with a smile. I smile and keep going. “I knew a broke painter once who painted with his hair. Only he was bald, so the canvas was blank. He was always trying to get people toupee.” “Ok now, moving on. Tell me about what you did Friday night.” She says without looking up from her notebook. I take a moment to think as my eyes glance around the room. She has lots of framed art. Pieces from Dali, Escher, Rene Magritte, and even one of John Cleese from the “Ministry of Silly Walks” sketch, from Monty Python’s Flying Circus show. She looks up and catches me drifting, so she cuts in. “Did you take anybody out? I know she must not have been very good if you can’t remember.” “I don’t have enough money to take anybody out right not. And you know, when sex is Freon any occasion, it usually involves something dripping and toxic. At least that’s what my mechanic tells me.” She starts laughing. “Nah, but I like sex when the girl is begging. There’s just something erotic about homeless women.” Now she is trying really hard to remain professional. “All right, I know how hard this is for you, but you really must try if we are going to push through to anything.” She begins subtly tapping her pen against her notebook as her big eyes seem to be trying to sum me up. This doesn’t deter me. I continue as if she hasn’t even spoken. “Friday night. Yes, now I remember. I partied in a tux. I snuck an orchestra into the elevator of my apartment. We made elevator music history until Marvin got his oboe caught in the door, and Mrs. Hoffstead started singing, ‘Yes We Have No Bananas Today’ so loud the police were called in from Ecuador. Then we went out to eat at Denny’s.” “And what did you order?” “Patience my dear. I didn’t order. I had a stand off with the waiter. Greatness comes to those who ate. I try not to get too full of myself. Plus I had already eaten. The conductor and I got along great. He was a wild and crazy guy. When he waved that little stick of his, our waiter started to dance as our table played a concerto by Bach, I believe. When we left, our waiter left us the tip.” “It’s obvious you have been writing a lot. How is your deadline coming? Are you nervous?” She asks. “A deadline is a joyous occasion. One that calls for jump roping. Or maybe skipping,” I slowly respond. Her eyes snap open. “You are not seriously considering skipping your second comedy routine?” Her face is drawn wide with disbelief. “Not seriously. But my mind has been too heavy to really write. I don’t know. I think I might have been in love, and I am struggling not to think about it.” “What is love to you?” “The way a bat kisses a ball, that’s love. And I took glove for granted.” “Did you ever tell her how you felt?” My eyes dart nervously around the room. I can feel my forehead breakout into beads of sweat. My lips tighten. “No I didn’t. But I did think about marriage. But then I thought, ‘marriage is the dearth of sex as I once knew it.” “Marriage? Marriage is a give and take kind of thing. It’s about communication, not just a punch line either. Sometimes you have to know when the right time for joking is, and when you have to be sincere.” “I know. I’m just not used to sharing my feelings. And this week I have been doing a lot of thinking, but going nowhere in my mind. This week has really been one of the low points of my life.” I say as I turn my head down as I realize my eyes have gotten moist. “Good, Jarod. This is the real you. The you I have been waiting to talk to for a while now. Don’t stop you are doing great. So tell me what’s on your mind.” She has put away her notebook and is now giving me her full attention. “OK, take last night, for example. I went to a red panty party, where everyone, man or woman, wore red panties and a red bra. I wore her’s.” “Who’s her?” She implores. “You know, her. My x-girlfriend. Anyways, I thought it would be perfect. Something to get me out of my mundane, drab existence. But it actually had the reverse effect.” “How so?” She led me on to keep talking. “Well, I felt like Waldo, as in Where’s Waldo, standing in a crowd trying to find myself in a sea of clones. The only real reason why I didn’t kill myself last night was because the crimson colored blood would have clashed with my ruby red panties and bra.” “So you thought about suicide last night?” She looks worried. “Not seriously, but my sense of self was completely discombobulated.” I turned my head again so she could not look into my teary eyes. “I want you to put your joking aside for a minute here and go deeper. Past the cynicism, and talk about your views on standing out. You said you felt like Waldo. Are you waiting for someone to find you, possibly your x-girlfriend?” “That’s ancient history.” “Is it?” She crosses her left leg over her right leg. “Well, I think so. My significant other these days is my depression. But in bed I fantasize.” “What do you fantasize about?” “It’s an oral fantasy. One where I deep throat my Sig Sauer handgun, fingering the trigger as my lips run smoothly down the barrel.” “I hear your tone, but I sense you are still hiding behind your humor. What are you really searching for?” I close my eyes for a moment to truly ponder that question. I slowly open my eyes. “I guess I’m just craving the affection of a girl like my x-girlfriend. But we’ve both changed. She’d changed. I’ve changed.” “Changed for the better, or for the worse?” I quickly respond as I fiercely massage my left palm with my right hand. “A bit of both, I would say. But sometimes I cry, just wishing she could be there to hold me.” “And does she know that?” “No. I’m afraid to tell her. I’m afraid she doesn’t need me like I need her. I guess it’s this fear that paralyzes me, that keeps me from feeling anything on the inside.” She picks up her notebook and writes something in it rapidly before responding. “So maybe the only way you can move on is if you share your feelings with her. If she accepts you, your problem is solved. And if she rejects you, you are free to move on and fully integrate with society.” “So you’re saying that I need closure.” “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” She laugh lines crinkle as she gives me a big smile. “Yeah…maybe I do. I think I’ll call her up. Hey, what hurts worse, the pain of rejection, or the lingering pain I feel stuck in this post relationship limbo?” “Good. Glad to hear you say that. Now our time is about up, and I want a full report of how all this went next week. You had a great session today. I am sure you will start to feel a whole lot better about yourself very shortly here.” “Me too. Thanks, Doc, I really appreciate it.” And I rise from my chair and give Nancy a hug as I walk out the door feeling lighter and wearing a smile for the first time in weeks. -Jarod Kintz
My friend William Moody has a crazy temper. Last night he blew up and his girlfriend just happened to drop by. I told her she would be better off coming back later. Wen she asked why I responded he was Willy Moody now. -Jarod Kintz
I like to go jogging through the park with typewriters on my feet. When a woman ever hits on me, and they all do, I stop, bend down, peck at the keys and scream, "you're not my type!" -Jarod Kintz
If you come from a village that has no idiots, chances are you are the idiot. Speaking of villages, can anybody give me directions to go back to my village the way I came? -Jarod Kintz
I can see you walking in front of me, as the sky is darkening over the trees, and the dirt road crunches beneath my feet. I know that you hear me behind you, but you do not turn around. I call out to you like a bird to the morning, but you are silent as a memory of a mime. The road is curvy like my pregnant mother, and bends up ahead like a fish on a hook. We used to fish around here. In the creek just beyond those hills. For me, the smell of fish in the morning is like the scent of a flower to a bee. I am pulled to this memory like a chariot pulls an historical hero, as greatness is measured between your footsteps, and your strides get bigger as time goes on. THis is my memory of you, and it keeps me warm at nights. Memories are like blankets: the best ones always seem to be warm and fuzzy. -Jarod Kintz
So I was watching TV and I saw an ad for a charity that was asking for money for starving third world children. And this old American bastard on the TV was really making me angry with his foolish world outlook. I wanted to ask him this question.
Assume that you are a mother, and you have two children, by two different men. One child's uncles include Aristotle, DaVinci, and Newton, and this child's father is Mozart. Now the other child's father and family could be given the euphymism of average and they would be flattered. Basically, one child has the intellectual capacity and fortitude of Fort Knox, while the other has the intellectual capacity and fortitude of a Tupperware container.
But the situation is, you want to enroll both your children in piano lessons, but you only have enough money to pay for one child. Which child are you going to enroll?
This idiotic bastard would probably enroll the average child and let the other one go adrift. This is moronic. Why am I going to give money to Africa when there are homeless and ignorant children here? This is the backwards thinking that has signalled the decline of our power. If America were a stock, today would be the day to sell.
The best way we can help the world is to help ourselves. Because of men like Edison, Africa has light. Because of Farnsworth, they now can amuse themselves with TV. Because of Henry Ford, they can drive from shack to their neighbor's squater settlement. Because of our ingenuity, as well as Europe's, their standard of living is higher than it ever was. But we can't afford to educate them, when the real talent is here and in dire need of education too. -Jarod Kintz
41 Comments:
Crazy drawing man!
Man this drawing is far out! Too bad it reminds me of the Florida Gators, I am a Seminole fan!! But I still like this Cartoon anyways.
Saggy Naggy
I don't understand?
definitely surreal. it's as if salvador dali meets gary larson meets john cleese. sort of an artistic frankenstein, with the blending of thoughts and images.
I think that you are a very funny guy.
-Mandy
Your drawings suck! visit my website for true artistic genius. visit http://maddox.xmission.com/irule.html
Nice cartoon Kintz. Looks like you are still a wild and crazy guy. Hit me up when you get back into town.
John
Great comic and really funny.
Baxter
great drawing. reminds me of the park.
I remember the park
I live at the park. In the blue tunnel by the green slide.
I once bit my dog. Well, he was rubbing me while I was trying to eat.
My dog bit me once, then I shot him. He dosen't bite anymore.
Kenny " The Redneck"
I once bit my hand then stabbed my self in the mouth as punishment. Now I posess more self control. I no longer urinate in the water bowl.
~Roxy
Well roxy, are you sure about that...it tasted really fresh and flavorful this morning....
Miffy Bifquik
Man, that would hurt.
The hand that bites my ass, like your comics do.
-Your Mother
-The clothes don’t make the man, the man makes the clothes. Or, sometimes, little children do.
-I believe in the Art of War. I’d stab Jackson Pollack and splatter his blood all over a canvas.
-Lawyers are fish. They are slimy and they’ll all take debate.
-A hand of cards is like a pile of clothes. Don’t fold them unless you suspect someone will see a wrinkle of weakness.
-My grandpa broke a mirror the year before he died. When he died the next year, all he left me in his will was the remaining six years of bad luck. And I got taxed on it too.
-I want to be a heart surgeon. I want to save loves.
-A diet is death without the t.
-I fell in love once. I sprained my wrist.
-I used to want to be a superhero, but I never really liked how my legs looked in spandex.
-I have a broken mirror over my bed. Perhaps that’s the reason the only pussy that gets on my bed is a black cat.
-Greatness is a cheese you have to mold and culture.
-Greatness comes in many forms. Forms not to be filled out, but to be filled in.
-This comes from the heart, so pardon the blood.
-After a week of running my mouth, I was forced to eat my words. I immediately threw up a dictionary.
-Jarod Kintz 2005
-Half of the people are stupid. The other half are brilliant. He represents the middle half.
-Fifty percent of what I say is only half true. The other fifty percent is based on the first fifty percent, half the time.
-In heaven, everybody wears clean white shirts. I’ll be the only guy walking around with spaghetti sauce on his collar.
-Just because you have Fred Astaire fingers, nimble as they dance along the keyboard, doesn’t can you can write.
-Eternity is a long time to spend on your back.
-A small fraction of the population doesn’t even understand division. Yet they are the ones that multiply the fastest.
-I love reading comics while making a poo. Then, if the comic is bad, I wipe myself with it and give it to my little brother to read.-Maurice McFeces
-Your parents don’t approve of you having sex, but your kids will.
-Sex is a family affair.
-My husband’s breath stinks. I think he should take his foot out of his mouth more often.
-I used to be a fireman. I am afraid of heights, so I used to bring my best friend along to help me get cats out of trees. I had to stop bringing him though because he kept peeing on the fire hydrants.
-In heaven there is no traffic because your schedule is spread out over millennia instead of days. But I’ll still get pissed off waiting fifteen seconds at a traffic light.
-A gay man would never wear a strait jacket.
-Death starts when life ends. But when life starts, what ends? Maybe it’s some game show where you have to choose something behind three closed doors. Next time, I’m knocking first and if my parents answer, I’m out of there.
-It’s bad luck to walk under an Arab ladder. A camel will piss on you. (Arab ladder, bladder)
-The oil business is too crude for me.
-I haven’t met many lawyers that I didn’t like. But then again, I haven’t met many lawyers.
_Jarod Kintz 2005
“Which leaves three inches,” I quickly say. “I’m claiming two of those,” My face goes taut as I realize what I have just said.
“Two inches?” Stalin says. “I didn’t figure you one for hyperbole,” and all three of them laugh at me as my face turns red.
-Sex is great anytime so long as it’s now.
-Sex is great with anybody so long as it’s me.
-Sex is for extroverts. Masturbation is for introverts.
-The cost of college is rising, yet college students paid more intuition than the school of hard knocks. But once they hit the real world they find all their tuition and intuition might have been better saved then spent.
-Making love should be passionate. Otherwise, you might as well have sex with your wife.
-Sex is best in pairs. I mean, who wants to watch bananas fornicate?
-One plus one equals fornication. But so does one plus three.
-Everybody’s got to die sooner or later. But then again, I’m not everybody.
-Michael Jackson desperately wants to get in touch with his inner child.
-Jarod Kintz 2005
-Of course God exists. I spoke to him yesterday. He told me to tell you to bring some marshmallows to your funeral.
-John Gooden Vs. Joseph Stalin. A classic example of Gooden Vs. Evil.
-In every person’s nature there exists a duel. A war raging between you and your fool.
-Being a genius is like living in a mansion of the mind. Being insane is like being locked in one of the closets. Good thing your locked in, because that’s where the treasure is.
-Thomas Gaint, who paints a picture with blood on a canvas made of human flesh. His stories tell of suffering, mostly as he makes the canvas. As the saying goes, no paint no Gaint.
-I’ve always envied bums living in boxes. It makes it really easy to move.
-Sex is a beautiful thing. So is a sunset. Both can be enjoyed from a porch swing.
-The future has a way of sneaking up behind you, much like a midget in the night.
-A deadline is a joyous occasion. One that calls for jump-roping. Or maybe skipping.
-Learning is a curve best taken strait on.
-I’m currently learning how to learn how to learn.
-I go to the drycleaners to get my jacket cleaned. There I meet a pirate who tells me, “It’s not about the chest, it’s all about the booty,” and “booty is in the eye of the beholder.” When I go to pick up my jacket, our jackets have been swapped, and in the pirates jacket is a map to Atlantis, where God is rumored to live.
-The ancient druids were stoners.
-“I’m sexually impoverished.”
“Maybe you should get on whorefare and let Uncle Sam screw you.”
-An albino midget with two crutches and a wooden leg makes for a great barstool.
-I’ll open the door for my wife if she’ll close her mouth.
-Mr. Fizzlebush walks out onto the deck and sees me talking with Leif and Stalin.
“There are four guys on the deck right now and only twelve inches of cock,” he smiles.
“Yeah, and I’m packing nine of that,” Leif laughs.
-Jarod Kintz 2005
-Dad’s always have a favorite child. They prefer the one they give birth to.
-I was so hungry I my stomach was growling. So I decided to eat my own leg. Or was that a vicious wolf?
-The government’s pockets are deeper than their knowledge of economics. Unfortunately, those are the people’s pockets. And that’s why I don’t wear any pants.
-It’s hard to brainwash a country when you can only fit three people in a dishwasher at one time.
-Some people think nature is their God. I’d like to apologize to all those people for pissing on their religion.
-It’s hard to get even when you’re so odd. –Thus sayeth the prime number who joined the circus.
-Ones can’t dance. They’ll step on your twos.
-I can’t dunce. I was born with two left brains.
-Dance with your destiny. Just don’t trip over your own fate.
-An old man named Adam goes shopping naked and slips on some apple pie and breaks his bone. Headline reads: Adam Falls In Time Of Nude.
-Just because God’s invisible doesn’t mean you can’t see him.
-Life is too funny for God not to exist. Who else would laugh at me smashing my penis with a hammer after thinking about nailing my neighbor’s wife?
-Jarod Kintz 2005
-The brain is split into two hemispheres, just like the earth. And when I drink alcohol, my brain spins faster than the earth’s rotation.
-I don’t want to be old and senile. I believe my body is a temple. And who wants to desecrate a temple by pissing all over it?
-“You can tell a lot about a person’s character by the way the author makes use of dialogue,” I say.
“Very true,” Mr. Fizzlebush responds. “Some men are very shady. Living life under the canopy of trees makes a monkey out of a man.”
“The blackest part of a man’s being is his shadow. A man who has no shadow is a shady man, engulfed by the darkness,” I slowly shake my head.
-Take pride in your workweek, not your weak work.
-Strength rises from weakness like an erection in the night.
-As an orange farmer, I don’t believe in mixing business with pleasure. That’s why I drink my vodka strait.
-When life gives you lemons, squeeze the shit out of your balls and you’ll forget all about your worldly troubles.
-Half of what I write is garbage. But if I don’t write it down it decomposes in my head.
-I used to fear the monsters in my closet. They must have been gay and just never came out.
-If humor were a climate, you’d be a desert in winter.
-Sometimes opportunity doesn’t knock, it rings the doorbell. And sometimes it brings a pizza with it too.
-College is filled with lots of girls who have no class.
-Jarod Kintz 2005
-Oak Island is the portal to Atlantis. But the only way to penetrate the booby trap is to dress like nipples.
-Babe Ruth might have said, The Ruth shall set you free. I could make glove to another woman and my wife wouldn’t even bat an eye. But she has me by the balls. In nine sinnings the game is tied like my tongue. I don’t want to strike out at you, but our umpire of love is crumbling.
-Today I threw out my back, but now I can’t find the replacement so I am slithering across the carpet like ringworm.
-Defeat always start at the ankles
-Jelloman and Spoonboy fight the perils of obesity with shaving cream.
-Sex is like investing. Sometimes it takes little or no money, just a lot of time and haggling.
-Orgasms are like bananas. Best in bunches.
-“I’m just trying to find my faith,” Leif says.
“For you to want to find your faith implies that it is lost. Perhaps your faith isn’t lost, maybe you are,” Magnetman says.
“Of course I’m lost,” Leif, replies, “I’ve been following the North star in the southern sky heading east. I need a compass.”
“In life there is no compass. You’ve got to find your own direction.” Magnetman says.
“Easy for you to say, you’re a walking map. All you have to do is become Hindu, put a dot on your forehead and say, ‘you are here.” Leif laughs.
-Jarod Kintz 2005
The importance of wearing shoes: warmth escapes from two places, your head and your feet. And a shoe, preferably a high top, can stop warm air escaping from either the top of the head or the neck.
-Jarod Kintz
I wish insane came in a lollipop, of all varieties. THere would be cherry sociopath, vanilla schizophrenia, and watermelon O.C.D. And instead of sucking on it, you would thrust it into your eye.
-Jarod Kintz
If a tree falls in the forest and nobody's around to hear it, chances are pretty good they won't see you burying the dead body either.
-Jarod Kintz
I'm not good with math. Just last week some old lady asked me to help her with her pi, and I got so embarrassed I threw it in her face.
-Jarod Kintz
I'm going to change my name to "They." Then when people ask,"What did they say?" the people will respond, "nothing. He just kind of sat there looking stupid."
-Jarod Kintz
I know a broke painter who paints with his hair. Only he is bald so his canvases are blank. He is always trying to get people toupee for his pieces.
-Jarod Kintz
Not getting laid can be a crippling experience. But then I don’t go looking for sex on the interstate. But here recently, I have been so lonely I have seriously thought about looking for some strange.
Today started out like yesterday, gloomy. And I don’t mean just my disposition either. The sky was this fickle gray, too watered down to be energizing, yet well beyond hazy. It’s now 2:37 in the afternoon. I just got up about thirty minutes ago. I hardly ever get up this early anymore. With all the late night drinking binges, and the desperation of my life, I just find comfort in the middle of the night when I’m absolutely alone. It just magnifies my outlook on life, I think.
But right now I am headed to my therapist, Nancy, for my weekly session. Nancy is a pretty brunette in her mid thirties. In her office she has a desk, where she sits, and for the patients there is a couch and two chairs. Every time I go in there I sit in a different spot. Today I have decided to sit on the floor in the corner, just to throw her off a bit. I think she is of the Freudian school, because we talk a lot about my sex life, or lack thereof.
I pull into her building’s parking lot and choose a spot underneath a tree. In the summer heat, I’ll be glad I did when I come out in an hour. I am ten minutes early so I decide to get out and smoke. Just as I light up, and I am staring out into the traffic, I see a blue Mercedes drive by. The driver is a pretty blond woman. Damn, it’s her. Today is going to be a real winner of a day I can already feel it. My anxiety causes me to practically swallow the cigarette and each drag is like a gulp of air for a drowning man.
I flick the butt of the cigarette on the pavement as I walk across the parking lot and open the door of Nancy’s office building. The wave of air-conditioning hits me like an eighty-year-old champion boxer.
It’s 3:03 so I walk right into Nancy’s office and sit on the sofa. I am so worked up I forget about my little game with the seating arrangement. I am greeted by her warm voice.
“Hello, Jarod. I hope you have had a better week than last week,” she says with a smile in her blue eyes.
“Better? If by better you mean I am one step closer to the bottom, and therefore one step towards ascension, then yes, this week is better than last week.” I pause to revoke the frustration in my voice. “I’m sorry. It’s been a rough morning.”
“Start at the beginning. Right from when you left here last week,” she is looking down at her notebook that she doodles in while I am talking. I don’t know if she is writing poetry, taking notes, or drawing phallus’ in there. None of those would surprise me. “Did you go out drinking at a bar at all last week?”
“Please. The rant is cheap when you live in a bar. I get so tired of the sob stories people tell me in there. If they really wanted to waste money and have a friendly ear, they should seek professional help.” I look up slowly to see her reaction. “Of course you know I am just joking. You are wonderful, Nancy. No I didn’t go to any bars, I lost my helmet.”
“Your helmet?” She asks inquisitively.
“I always wear a helmet to the bar. Alcohol is the motorcycle of beverages. Liver fast, die young.”
“Yet you drink like a camel. Is that your intention? To go out like a rock star?” She questions me.
“Rock star? No, my band is still looking to replace our lead air guitarist. He had to quit after an all night session left his fingers shredded and bloody. I hear he’s taken up finger painting.”
She always plays along with my games and leads me on. “Are you interested in paintings?”
“Well, I had a friend named Art. One day I took him to a museum, hung him on the wall, criticized him and left.”
“That’s pretty funny. I’ll bet he was an abstract kind of guy,” she responds with a smile.
I smile and keep going. “I knew a broke painter once who painted with his hair. Only he was bald, so the canvas was blank. He was always trying to get people toupee.”
“Ok now, moving on. Tell me about what you did Friday night.” She says without looking up from her notebook.
I take a moment to think as my eyes glance around the room. She has lots of framed art. Pieces from Dali, Escher, Rene Magritte, and even one of John Cleese from the “Ministry of Silly Walks” sketch, from Monty Python’s Flying Circus show. She looks up and catches me drifting, so she cuts in.
“Did you take anybody out? I know she must not have been very good if you can’t remember.”
“I don’t have enough money to take anybody out right not. And you know, when sex is Freon any occasion, it usually involves something dripping and toxic. At least that’s what my mechanic tells me.”
She starts laughing.
“Nah, but I like sex when the girl is begging. There’s just something erotic about homeless women.”
Now she is trying really hard to remain professional. “All right, I know how hard this is for you, but you really must try if we are going to push through to anything.” She begins subtly tapping her pen against her notebook as her big eyes seem to be trying to sum me up.
This doesn’t deter me. I continue as if she hasn’t even spoken. “Friday night. Yes, now I remember. I partied in a tux. I snuck an orchestra into the elevator of my apartment. We made elevator music history until Marvin got his oboe caught in the door, and Mrs. Hoffstead started singing, ‘Yes We Have No Bananas Today’ so loud the police were called in from Ecuador. Then we went out to eat at Denny’s.”
“And what did you order?”
“Patience my dear. I didn’t order. I had a stand off with the waiter. Greatness comes to those who ate. I try not to get too full of myself. Plus I had already eaten. The conductor and I got along great. He was a wild and crazy guy. When he waved that little stick of his, our waiter started to dance as our table played a concerto by Bach, I believe. When we left, our waiter left us the tip.”
“It’s obvious you have been writing a lot. How is your deadline coming? Are you nervous?” She asks.
“A deadline is a joyous occasion. One that calls for jump roping. Or maybe skipping,” I slowly respond.
Her eyes snap open. “You are not seriously considering skipping your second comedy routine?” Her face is drawn wide with disbelief.
“Not seriously. But my mind has been too heavy to really write. I don’t know. I think I might have been in love, and I am struggling not to think about it.”
“What is love to you?”
“The way a bat kisses a ball, that’s love. And I took glove for granted.”
“Did you ever tell her how you felt?”
My eyes dart nervously around the room. I can feel my forehead breakout into beads of sweat. My lips tighten. “No I didn’t. But I did think about marriage. But then I thought, ‘marriage is the dearth of sex as I once knew it.”
“Marriage? Marriage is a give and take kind of thing. It’s about communication, not just a punch line either. Sometimes you have to know when the right time for joking is, and when you have to be sincere.”
“I know. I’m just not used to sharing my feelings. And this week I have been doing a lot of thinking, but going nowhere in my mind. This week has really been one of the low points of my life.” I say as I turn my head down as I realize my eyes have gotten moist.
“Good, Jarod. This is the real you. The you I have been waiting to talk to for a while now. Don’t stop you are doing great. So tell me what’s on your mind.” She has put away her notebook and is now giving me her full attention.
“OK, take last night, for example. I went to a red panty party, where everyone, man or woman, wore red panties and a red bra. I wore her’s.”
“Who’s her?” She implores.
“You know, her. My x-girlfriend. Anyways, I thought it would be perfect. Something to get me out of my mundane, drab existence. But it actually had the reverse effect.”
“How so?” She led me on to keep talking.
“Well, I felt like Waldo, as in Where’s Waldo, standing in a crowd trying to find myself in a sea of clones. The only real reason why I didn’t kill myself last night was because the crimson colored blood would have clashed with my ruby red panties and bra.”
“So you thought about suicide last night?” She looks worried.
“Not seriously, but my sense of self was completely discombobulated.” I turned my head again so she could not look into my teary eyes.
“I want you to put your joking aside for a minute here and go deeper. Past the cynicism, and talk about your views on standing out. You said you felt like Waldo. Are you waiting for someone to find you, possibly your x-girlfriend?”
“That’s ancient history.”
“Is it?” She crosses her left leg over her right leg.
“Well, I think so. My significant other these days is my depression. But in bed I fantasize.”
“What do you fantasize about?”
“It’s an oral fantasy. One where I deep throat my Sig Sauer handgun, fingering the trigger as my lips run smoothly down the barrel.”
“I hear your tone, but I sense you are still hiding behind your humor. What are you really searching for?”
I close my eyes for a moment to truly ponder that question. I slowly open my eyes. “I guess I’m just craving the affection of a girl like my x-girlfriend. But we’ve both changed. She’d changed. I’ve changed.”
“Changed for the better, or for the worse?”
I quickly respond as I fiercely massage my left palm with my right hand. “A bit of both, I would say. But sometimes I cry, just wishing she could be there to hold me.”
“And does she know that?”
“No. I’m afraid to tell her. I’m afraid she doesn’t need me like I need her. I guess it’s this fear that paralyzes me, that keeps me from feeling anything on the inside.”
She picks up her notebook and writes something in it rapidly before responding. “So maybe the only way you can move on is if you share your feelings with her. If she accepts you, your problem is solved. And if she rejects you, you are free to move on and fully integrate with society.”
“So you’re saying that I need closure.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” She laugh lines crinkle as she gives me a big smile.
“Yeah…maybe I do. I think I’ll call her up. Hey, what hurts worse, the pain of rejection, or the lingering pain I feel stuck in this post relationship limbo?”
“Good. Glad to hear you say that. Now our time is about up, and I want a full report of how all this went next week. You had a great session today. I am sure you will start to feel a whole lot better about yourself very shortly here.”
“Me too. Thanks, Doc, I really appreciate it.” And I rise from my chair and give Nancy a hug as I walk out the door feeling lighter and wearing a smile for the first time in weeks.
-Jarod Kintz
My friend William Moody has a crazy temper. Last night he blew up and his girlfriend just happened to drop by. I told her she would be better off coming back later. Wen she asked why I responded he was Willy Moody now.
-Jarod Kintz
A dye for a dye and the whole world is blonde.
-Jarod Kintz
If you want to see communist fish, you should go Cuba diving.
-Jarod Kintz
I used to jog on supermarket conveyer belts before I slipped on some dough and twisted my pretzel.
-Jarod Kintz
I like to go jogging through the park with typewriters on my feet. When a woman ever hits on me, and they all do, I stop, bend down, peck at the keys and scream, "you're not my type!"
-Jarod Kintz
If you come from a village that has no idiots, chances are you are the idiot. Speaking of villages, can anybody give me directions to go back to my village the way I came?
-Jarod Kintz
Two paths diverged in a wood,and I took the middle path, and it has made all the difference.
-Jarod Kintz
I travel with a machete, it cuts down on travel time.
-Jarod Kntz
Memory
I can see you walking in front of me, as the sky is darkening over the trees, and the dirt road crunches beneath my feet. I know that you hear me behind you, but you do not turn around. I call out to you like a bird to the morning, but you are silent as a memory of a mime. The road is curvy like my pregnant mother, and bends up ahead like a fish on a hook. We used to fish around here. In the creek just beyond those hills. For me, the smell of fish in the morning is like the scent of a flower to a bee. I am pulled to this memory like a chariot pulls an historical hero, as greatness is measured between your footsteps, and your strides get bigger as time goes on. THis is my memory of you, and it keeps me warm at nights. Memories are like blankets: the best ones always seem to be warm and fuzzy.
-Jarod Kintz
So I was watching TV and I saw an ad for a charity that was asking for money for starving third world children. And this old American bastard on the TV was really making me angry with his foolish world outlook. I wanted to ask him this question.
Assume that you are a mother, and you have two children, by two different men. One child's uncles include Aristotle, DaVinci, and Newton, and this child's father is Mozart. Now the other child's father and family could be given the euphymism of average and they would be flattered. Basically, one child has the intellectual capacity and fortitude of Fort Knox, while the other has the intellectual capacity and fortitude of a Tupperware container.
But the situation is, you want to enroll both your children in piano lessons, but you only have enough money to pay for one child. Which child are you going to enroll?
This idiotic bastard would probably enroll the average child and let the other one go adrift. This is moronic. Why am I going to give money to Africa when there are homeless and ignorant children here? This is the backwards thinking that has signalled the decline of our power. If America were a stock, today would be the day to sell.
The best way we can help the world is to help ourselves. Because of men like Edison, Africa has light. Because of Farnsworth, they now can amuse themselves with TV. Because of Henry Ford, they can drive from shack to their neighbor's squater settlement. Because of our ingenuity, as well as Europe's, their standard of living is higher than it ever was. But we can't afford to educate them, when the real talent is here and in dire need of education too.
-Jarod Kintz
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