Monday, June 27, 2005

toon: You complete me

180 Comments:

At Monday, June 27, 2005 4:09:00 PM, Anonymous said...

How surreal!

 
At Wednesday, June 29, 2005 6:50:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Relationships between men and women are very puzzling, and also like this comic, very pleasing.

 
At Thursday, June 30, 2005 12:31:00 AM, SAM said...

reminds me of the park.-sam

 
At Thursday, June 30, 2005 1:33:00 AM, Anonymous said...

very cute.
-Brianna

 
At Thursday, June 30, 2005 11:43:00 PM, Anonymous said...

My peanut butter sandwich completes me. I eat it at the park.

Samantha

 
At Monday, July 04, 2005 11:17:00 PM, Anonymous said...

This comic is very pleasing to my eye.


Birdman

 
At Friday, July 15, 2005 12:22:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I think this comic is very surreal. But I don't know what surreal means. My Jimmy Choo's complete me!

Jessica Simpson

 
At Thursday, August 04, 2005 12:28:00 AM, Anonymous said...

The way a bat kisses a ball, that's love. Don't take glove for granted.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Thursday, August 04, 2005 12:58:00 AM, Anonymous said...

the way my cat kissed a gull, now that puts "true love" into perspective, said the spider to the fly...
--Mahatmansamatman

 
At Thursday, August 04, 2005 7:47:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Never forsake glove, and your balls will always be happy.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Thursday, August 04, 2005 9:29:00 PM, Anonymous said...

So, what does baseball have to do with it?

 
At Thursday, August 04, 2005 9:34:00 PM, Anonymous said...

I think the girl should have five pieces of the puzzle and the guy should have one. Wouldn't this more accurately reflect relationships? You can tell this cartoon was created by a GUY.

 
At Friday, August 05, 2005 12:51:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Baseball has nothing to do with anything. I just felt like writing that. And maybe the girl should have five pieces and the guy one. I like that.
-Jarod

 
At Saturday, August 20, 2005 2:36:00 AM, Anonymous said...

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

 
At Saturday, August 20, 2005 7:44:00 PM, Anonymous said...

How can I suggest a cool shirt for you to make? It'd be a female shirt with two holes cut out of the front so the boobies show.

 
At Saturday, August 20, 2005 7:48:00 PM, Anonymous said...

You know... it looks like Jarod exemplifies Five Easy Pieces (see the crazy movie with Jack Nicholson). But that would be from the girl's viewpoint. The girl without a head. Oh yeah, the head that Jarod bit off. She must have had good brains. Wasn't that some African tribe that believed you could get the smarts of a worthy opponent by eating their brains?
--The Ghost in the Machine

 
At Saturday, August 20, 2005 10:52:00 PM, Anonymous said...

I was once told to invest in stocks and bonds. But I chose to only invest in bonds. Bonds do have more fun.

 
At Sunday, August 21, 2005 7:46:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Sometimes, when I listen to U2, I cry myself to sleep with their beautiful melodies. But then I wake up very quickly with the honk of the horns from the oncoming traffic.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Monday, August 22, 2005 12:00:00 AM, Anonymous said...

After my girlfriend kicked me to the curb, she changed the locks on me. Lucky for me she accidentally left the passenger side door open.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Monday, August 22, 2005 12:02:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Love is a mouse that we all hastily chase. Most of us don't catch it, so we have to resort to licking ourselves.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Monday, August 22, 2005 12:03:00 AM, Anonymous said...

One must proceed with caution when coming to a three way stop on a boardwalk. You gotta look out for those splintersections.
-Lauren Zimpel

 
At Tuesday, August 23, 2005 12:10:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Charity of the sister of compassion. The sickly little one that wheezes in her wheelchair.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Tuesday, August 23, 2005 12:12:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Bravery is a commodity I sell in times of peace. But I am the fiercely proud son of a chicken farmer.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, August 24, 2005 12:02:00 PM, Anonymous said...

I love finding suprises in the bottom of the dryer. That's where I found my latest boyfriend.

 
At Wednesday, August 24, 2005 4:50:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Evening strolls are said to ease the mind and elevate the spirit. But not if you are strolling through your own insane ideas.

Lauren Zimpel

 
At Thursday, August 25, 2005 11:11:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Sometimes I let the innerchild in me be free. But I am always having to change his diapers.

 
At Friday, August 26, 2005 12:14:00 PM, Anonymous said...

There are some things a woman needs from a man that he cannot give her...like another man.

 
At Thursday, September 01, 2005 9:02:00 PM, Anonymous said...

I heart this comic!!! It is one of my favorite ones =) You have such a quirky sense of humor, that always makes me laugh.
Gchickie

 
At Saturday, September 03, 2005 3:12:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I would have to disagree and say that we mostly chase rats when looking for love and that the ones who find love end up licking themselves anyways.

 
At Saturday, September 03, 2005 3:25:00 AM, Anonymous said...

My brother licks himself. Sometimes he licks me as well. Although when he gets angry, he gets furious.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, September 03, 2005 3:29:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I think I know your brother. Does he hang out on the corner next to the crayon shop?

 
At Saturday, September 03, 2005 3:42:00 AM, Anonymous said...

What do you know about the crayon shop? Have you spoken to anybody about what you've seen? If I were you I'd speak to no one. You are in a dangerous situation. You are dealing with madmen. Madmen with crayons. If you talk, I will not hesitate to brutally stab you with a green crayon. Or maybe even the blue crayon, depending on how much you say. I also know how to use colored pencils, so you are on a fine line with me.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, September 03, 2005 3:52:00 AM, Anonymous said...

You don't scare me. I am good with finger paints and there isn't a soul in the world who wouldn't be afraid of that, except for mabye the pottery wheel.

 
At Friday, September 09, 2005 6:35:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Nomadic birth control: morning after pillage.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Friday, September 09, 2005 6:38:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I can't write right not, I'm having a brainfreeze. I think I'll step out of the refrigerator, it's cramping my style.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, October 12, 2005 5:17:00 PM, Anonymous said...

I've never been abducted by aliens, but I have been to South America.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, October 12, 2005 5:17:00 PM, Anonymous said...

I've never had sex with two women at once, unless you count my x-girlfriend who used to talk to herself.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, October 12, 2005 5:18:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Sex with my wife has become estranged. Sometimes we're so distant, our phone bill is huge.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, October 12, 2005 5:18:00 PM, Anonymous said...

I've never had cybersex. My penis just won't fit in the USB port.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, October 12, 2005 5:19:00 PM, Anonymous said...

I've never been on a date with someone I didn't care about...getting into her pants.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, October 12, 2005 5:20:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Before every interview I talk to myself, give myself little pep talks, like a coach, and then slap my own ass for good luck.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, October 12, 2005 5:21:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Some people are born with patience, but I'll have to wait a lifetime for mine to develop. This makes me the most impatient patient person ever.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, October 12, 2005 5:22:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Ever since I can remember I've loved Charles, and I just met her last Tuesday.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, October 12, 2005 5:23:00 PM, Anonymous said...

What you don't know can't hurt you, unless you don't know a rusty spoon is about to be thrust in your eye.
-Jarod Kitz

 
At Wednesday, October 12, 2005 5:54:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Doritoes curling over the edge of the pool filled with Pepsi as I dive in. Later they would say I drowned, but I know that I died from a broken heart and clogged arteries.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, October 12, 2005 5:55:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Is it better to die from a broken heart, or a clogged one?
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Friday, October 28, 2005 1:43:00 AM, Anonymous said...

The funeral home industry and the tissue industry should partner up for a promotion. Buy one pine box and get two free boxes of tissue.
-Jarod KIntz

 
At Friday, October 28, 2005 1:43:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Death may only be bad if you are not in the tissue industry.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Friday, October 28, 2005 1:44:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Some people kill for fun, others kill for profit. If you're going to do it, why not make some money at it? Join the Army.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Friday, October 28, 2005 1:46:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Some people are like pests: they must be exterminated. Especially when they scuttle in the dark corners of your kitchen cabinets, and crowd under your bathroom sink.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Friday, October 28, 2005 1:46:00 AM, Anonymous said...

LIfe's not a game, but if it is, who's keeping score?
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Friday, October 28, 2005 1:46:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Little hairy people make better pets.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Friday, October 28, 2005 1:48:00 AM, Anonymous said...

If your penis is your life, then you probably put your life in your hands all the time.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, November 06, 2005 10:02:00 PM, Anonymous said...

The lead singer of Tripod, the band, walked on all three's like a piano that's grand. Two hands and one leg is what he moved with, he was even steady after drinking a fifth.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, November 06, 2005 10:15:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Jarod Kintz

Defeat Start At The Ankles (Villanelle)


John’s feet were on fire as he lit up the night,
As Roger Bannister clocked him as he ran a mile to the river—
He can also play piano on a unicycle while juggling

Three relationships between four girls in two cities
But that’s because he runs his mouth as smooth as his legs.
John’s feet were on fire as he lit up the night

Like he lit up a cigarette when his Dad was diagnosed
With cancer of the lungs, but, like John,
He can also play piano on a unicycle while juggling

Many thoughts in his mind as he writes with his four toes,
Which he also counts the minutes it takes John to run
While his feet are on fire as he lights up the night

As he’s chased by girls with gasoline whom he’s burned
But somehow he manages to keep his balance
Because he can play the piano on a unicycle while juggling

All his memories of beaches and soccer, as he looks
Down at his black wheelchair and wishes his
Crippled feet were on fire as he lights up the night,
And he’s playing the piano on a unicycle while juggling too.

 
At Monday, November 07, 2005 2:01:00 AM, Anonymous said...

"I think my throat is swollen," John said to Alvin.
"It will be swollen with my fat member later on," allen said as he nudged him in the ribs as he slapped John's ass.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Monday, November 07, 2005 2:04:00 AM, Anonymous said...

People can see the past as if written clearly before them. If we could read the future, would it be written backwards? What if we had a time machine that only went forwards in reverse, would that make things backwards?
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Monday, November 07, 2005 2:04:00 AM, Anonymous said...

If you could buy time, I would sell it. Yesterday would be expensive, and tomorrow would be cheap.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Friday, November 11, 2005 5:56:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Everybody likes burning their bridges, why not burn the villages too? True violence gets the blood flowing faster than a bottle of Viagra.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, November 19, 2005 1:40:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Last time I had sex I was so good I got a standing ovation. Well, actually, I just got the clap.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, November 19, 2005 1:41:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Jogging is better exorcise than sex, but my knees are so bad I might just have to go back to jogging.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, November 19, 2005 1:42:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Having sex is better than being alone, if only for the fact that you get to talk to several people.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, November 19, 2005 1:43:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I always find the co-pilot's voice so soothing as he comes over the speaker of the plane. It always puts me right to sleep. This isn't a good thing, especialy because I'm flying the plane.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, November 19, 2005 1:44:00 AM, Anonymous said...

For women, riding on an airplane is slightly better than sex, only because the bag of nuts is more fulfilling.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, November 19, 2005 2:04:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I always drink on an empty stomach, that way I don't waste money with all the food I throw up.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, November 19, 2005 2:05:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I went to the bar with my boss. He bought me a round which I quickly clipped into my gun and poped off in his face at point blank range.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, November 19, 2005 2:06:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I think drinking games are fun. Especially card drinking games. My favorite is solitare.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, November 19, 2005 2:06:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Golfers shouldn't drink. Driving under the influence can im-par you.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, November 19, 2005 2:07:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I love White Russians. Kahlua. Milk. It does a bottle good.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Tuesday, November 22, 2005 10:48:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Drink screwdrivers,go nuts and bolt into bed.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Tuesday, November 22, 2005 10:51:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Great sex can be like a marathon. But don't get dehydrated, remember to drink from one of those little cups they hand you as you two run by.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Tuesday, November 22, 2005 10:53:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I want to create a hotel just for teenagers. It'll be very minimalistic. Just a roof and a half-mile long backseat.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Tuesday, November 22, 2005 10:54:00 AM, Anonymous said...

For my daughter's sixth birthday I took her to a strip club. They wouldn't let her in because she's not 18. So I told her to give me her birthday money and wait in the car for a few hours. It was a magical birthday party.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Tuesday, November 22, 2005 10:55:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Sex is like shoes. It works best in pairs, and for optimal performance, try tying the other one up.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Tuesday, November 22, 2005 10:56:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Sex is like a pop song. If you get a lot of play, you really get tired of the repitition of it.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Tuesday, November 22, 2005 10:58:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Never have sex in the checkout line at WalMart. The lines are slow enough as it is without two people laying on the conveyer belt. But you might want to do it behind the customer service counter, you will get absolute privacy there.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Monday, December 05, 2005 1:23:00 AM, Anonymous said...

2005 was a year of catastrophes--Robert Mugabe bravely lead his country further into economic disparity, the dollar fell below the Euro, hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans and the Gulf Coast, and of course, the tragic incident when Paris Hilton lost her dog. Speaking of Paris, rioting broke out over there. Cars were burned and relationships were torched as Arabs expressed their dismay that they were not being treated as equals and always got the soggy croissants with their morning value meal.
It was also a year of low consumer spending, and big loads. Britney spears got pregnant, and S. Hunter Thompson died and got shot out of a cannon. Britney had her baby, and Donald Trump's wife did also, proving once again that Viagra is the most useful pill money can buy, except in Donald's wife's case, maybe birth control is more in order.
Martha Stewart spent some time in the big house, and luckily avoided becoming some inmates
"Apprentice," at least until she got out when she tried her hand at her own Trump style show.
Her ratings for the show, along with President Bush's approval ratings fell faster than a little boy's pants at the Neverland Ranch. In a realted event, Michael Jackson reputedly converted to Islam, and is now fiercely enjoying the time he spends on his knees...praying.
The price of gas rose to record highs not seen in recent decades, yet America managed to save money on their electric bill. It turns out that more people were turning off their TVs exactly at the same time Carson Daily came on. Speaking of dead air space, 2005 saw a record bubble blowing accross the country as house prices soar like CEOs into orbit. Most notably in California, which experienced large masses of people leaving, most of them in cars they won on Oprah's talk sho; although, due to high gas prices, most only made it to Las Vegas where they celebrated the cities centennial anniversary and enjoyed free drinks, and lots of snapshots with large men wearing snake-eyes sunglasses they mistakengly took for Greg Raimer.
And finally, in sports, baseball suffered a steroid scandal as many players were accused of "juicing," although most vehemently denied that it was supplied to them by Michael Jackson. And Peyton Manning once again dominated the game, setting another NFL record for his eighth consecutive season with 25 touchdowns or more, proving once and for all that he is no ordinary Manning, but a legend.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Monday, December 05, 2005 3:36:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Who is they? And how do they know I stuff cans down my pants? Lance, I thought I told you to get down from the tree branch outside of my window. Stop watching me while I bathe. Between you and Peeping Tim I don't know if I can shower in my underwear anymore, I'll have to borrow someone else's. And I don't stuff cans in my pants anymore, I've switched to potatoes because after a long sweaty day I just pull them out and peel the skin off. Then I add some butter and sour cream and I have a late night snack.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, December 17, 2005 10:36:00 AM, Anonymous said...

My wife cried when she found out she couldn't have children. I tried to comfort her by sying, "It's ok honey, you're not the only one who can't have kids. Our kids won't be having kids either." Suprisingly, this made her cry even harder.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, December 17, 2005 10:40:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I met a woman at the bar whose legs were married. Later that night I cnvinced them to divorce and seperate. Little did I know they had a child between the two of them that hung like a monkey on the branch. Just as hairy too.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, December 17, 2005 10:41:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Some women don't want to have sex before their married. Some don't want to have sex while they're married. And some don't even want it after the marriage is over. And by some, I mean my wife.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, December 17, 2005 10:42:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I don't think I'll ever love a woman as long as my wife. Seriously, she's like 71 inches.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, December 17, 2005 10:44:00 AM, Anonymous said...

My girlfriend asked me if she looked skinny. I said, "Not as skinny as those windows," pointing across the hotel room which overlooked the city. She then responded, "I'm much skinnier than those windows!" "Good," I said as I threw her out of them.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, December 17, 2005 10:45:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I'm in love with my legs. I bought them an ankle bracelet as an engagement ring. This is the first time where I'm not wearing the pants in the relationship.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:13:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I could tell when my ex girlfriend was in love by the way she smelled. She smelled like my best friend. Trouble was, so did I.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:14:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I can count all my friends on one hand. Yeah, my friends are tiny.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:15:00 AM, Anonymous said...

A person spends a large portion of their life going to the bathroom. I figure I'll cut down on the travel time and just go in my pants.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:15:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Women's legs are love. I like to spread the love.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:17:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Yesterday my wife left me for another man. I was so angry I must have yelled and screamed for thirty minutes while my girlfriend just patiently listened.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:18:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Yesterday I kicked my girlfriend to the curb. I tell you, never date a homeless woman. When we fought over the blanket, it was harsh.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:19:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I love having family over for the hollidays. Over seas.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:20:00 AM, Anonymous said...

In my last relationship, I put everything I had before one day just up and leaving. Everything I had were my two kids, and credit card debt.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:22:00 AM, Anonymous said...

My father and I had a great relationship. At least until he went and slept with someone else.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:23:00 AM, Anonymous said...

What do you call a motivated homosexual? Passion fruit.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:24:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I encourage guys to fuck like rabbits. They should be quick about it, and learn the value of a well placed carrot.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:25:00 AM, Anonymous said...

My girlfriend gets religious during sex. She'll break out the Rosary for anal beads. She always has been a tight ass.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:26:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Crime victims are harder than a puzzle to figure out. But, when they are in many pieces they are easier to fit into boxes and bury.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:27:00 AM, Anonymous said...

My girlfriend loves anal sex. Hey, what's white and thirteen inches? My foot in her ass, I mean my mouth.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 2:31:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I used to work with a homosexual. He was a little too fruity for me. Yeah, I like it when they taste minty.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 10:58:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Why do guys feel they have to say I love you during sex? Seriously guys, that's not what I want to hear while you're pounding it out back there.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, December 18, 2005 10:59:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I like to make love in the rain. Trouble is, I live in the desert. So I just run around naked and alone and get sunburns on my dick.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Thursday, April 13, 2006 9:48:00 AM, Anonymous said...

People complain a lot about the Mexicans in this country. But despite what you may think about them, you have to admit that they are very environmentaly friendly. There are about 20 million illegal immigrants in the U.S from Mexico. And that seems like a lot until you consider that they all ride around in one car.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, April 16, 2006 6:34:00 AM, Maureen said...

Complete is as complete does, as Forrest would say. I need a puzzle piece; do you Jared? Trouble is all those jagged edges...but fit happens! Maureen

 
At Saturday, April 22, 2006 2:11:00 PM, Anonymous said...

These last five years have flown by like a flock of pidgeons, and there is shit everywhere. But I can't complain. I'm as healthy as an ox, and as beautiful as one too. I've seen a lot, mostly with my eyes closed and my foot resting like my eyelids--heavy on the gas pedal. But a gas pedal is no pillow, and neither is a breast a good gas pedal, although a most excellent pillow. I've learned that experience isn't everything. THe main thing to remember is that you have to experience things to experience them. I can't remember the last time I saw a sunrise over the Atlantic ocean sitting in an eagle's nest atop a tree in the Rocky Mountains, while wearing a yellow Speedo and a fake mustache, and holding a Martini in one hand, and the remote control to my TV in the other. But then again, my memory is as bad as my credit score. Or was 480 my SAT scare? Who knows, I was half asleep when I took it. I'm always half asleep. I was born half asleep. Half asleep, half German, that's what I am. My mother was passed out on the very sofa that I stole from my dad and gave to her as a Mother's day present on Father's day, two years ago, the very same day I was conceived. Ah, but am I to be believed? I would if I were you, and I can pretend to be you just as easily as you can believe me.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Thursday, April 27, 2006 2:17:00 AM, Anonymous said...

The only time it's ok to clone ten thousand people and stuff them all in a briefcase is when you're talking about Ben Franklin, baby. America's my baby, and I am one of her founding fathers. But I didn't donate any of my fluids to her womb, all my energy and orgasms I gave to France. I invented glasses, and you know it's not right to hit a man who invented glasses. Unless you hit me with your breasts. You may have heard that I'm a swinging kind of guy. Well, ladies, you heard right. It's not a party without the Benjamin, baby.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, May 03, 2006 6:03:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Sometimes it takes a twisted view to straiten the world out.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Monday, May 08, 2006 2:02:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Dolphins are so intelligent I feel that they'd make excellent readers, if only they didn't ruin the books by turning the pages with their watery flippers.

Wilbur Smith is like a banker who takes people's money, but he does it in a more subtle way: he writes great books.

I talked to a guy named Clint, from West Virginia, who said he'd probably think my book was funny if only he could read. I told him, "Rome wasn't built in a day. Keep working and studying hard. After 39 years of trying, you're bound to memorize the alphabet soon." He then wanted to know if Rome was a new restaurant in town, and if wanted to know if they were hiring dishwashers. I told him yes, and then I wrote him directions on a napkin that consisted of four lefts, at each street corner.

Why do the masses of people know the names of athletes and not the names of artists, writers, scientists, and thinkers in general? I mean you could take the average genius IQ of the great thinkers and divide it by 60 to get the average steroid pumping penis size of the athletes--and as small as that is, they still only have the capacity to work one head at a time. Actually, they only have enough brain capacity to work the smaller of the two at any given moment.

A WASP flies into a bar and the bartender says, "Sorry, we don't serve your kind here," to which the WASP replies, "You're quite right my good man. It’s better that you serve me at my own home anyway. If you want to set your rag down and follow me back to my house, I'll let you shower off in the sprinkler before you come inside."

Two donkeys walk into a bar and order a drink. The bartender, who say them walk in, doesn't even glance up as he says, "Sorry, we don't serve your kind here." Then one donkey turns to the other donkey and says, "Yeah, get the fuck out of here."

A man walks up to the owner of two missing dogs and says, "You know those flyers, about your dogs, the ones that are missing?" The owner smiles and says, "Thank God, you found them?" “Yes," replied the man, "They were in the copy machine where you left them."
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Monday, May 08, 2006 2:08:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Someone once said, "Never sleep with anyone crazier than yourself." I don't understand that because in every relationship, somebody's always breaking that advice. So, it leads me to believe if half the people fit into the category of being crazier than their partner, then they saying only holds true for 50% of the people. It could also be said that it's half true. But that's good because about half the time I prefer half-truths. The other half of the time I prefer half-lies, except on Tuesdays when I prefer whole lies about it being Friday--which works out perfectly because I always thought Mondays worked better as Thursdays anyways.

The moonlight shivered down the stratosphere's spine, while I was so nervous I wasn't sweating bullets, I was sweating whole magazine clips. And just about that moment I lost interest in the main character and drifted off...
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Friday, May 19, 2006 2:03:00 PM, Anonymous said...

I too am a warrior. A warrior of love. Sadly, I am not well seasoned yet.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Friday, May 19, 2006 2:15:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Two cans strung together are not an effective means of communicating in the 21st century, unless you consume the contents of the can before carrying on a conversation.

If you listen to the rhythmic sounds of the waves in a conch shell long enough, pretty soon you'll start hearing the shell tell you that you should go down to the beach and drown your boss in the surf. I'd recommend following the shells advice if A) you've ever heard a conch shell administer this advice before, and B) you are self employed.

If there's a severe drought, I'd look to changing the way we treat the environment. By reducing pollution, we can stop punching mother nature in her vagina. Of course there's a drought, no woman ever got wet from assault!

Our worldly parents are Mother Nature, and Father Time. This makes logical sense. I know my mother, growing up nature comforts us and nurtures us. As for my father, well I've never seen him. All I have is this watch to remind me of him.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Friday, May 26, 2006 12:43:00 PM, Anonymous said...

I like my broads more narrow than broad.

Your girlfriend's emotions are not a thing to be tossed around like a frisbee at a picnic.Frisbees end up on roofs. Your girlfriend's emotions shouldn't end up on the roof, they should end up in the kitchen, because that's where they and her physical body should spend most of their time.

Even the bravest of babies still shits itself now and again.

Life's many questions are like dicks: some are longer and harder than others. And if you stand in the corner working one out yourself for long enough, eventually the answer will come shooting out.

A religious raisin is a born again grape.

I'm proud to be a contrarian. I enjoy doing things different from everybody else. Even with my cars I try to be a contrarian. I'd like a car that has stationary windshield wipers, and a windshield that moves back and forth.

The immense amount of pressure it takes to create a diamond is nothing compared to the pressure a woman puts on a man to place that diamond on her finger. BUt I don't respond well to pressure, so the most a woman can expect out of me right now is a lump of coal on her ring finger.

A sunset for you could be a sunset for me, depending on my position in the world, or how I choose to see things.

People say the average American family is getting smaller, but I feel they are getting larger. I'm not measuring the births of the children, I'm measuring the girths of the children.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Monday, May 29, 2006 2:58:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Too many people live their lives as if they are simply waiting for death. Don't just wait for death, run full spead into oncoming traffic.

I was going to go to grandmother's house next thursday, but apparently she tore down our tree fort. So next time you see Mr. voldimar, tell him I went to visit aunt Mildred instead. Oh, and tell him not to mail me my binary anal defribulator until I get back. Say hi to sammy for me.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Saturday, June 03, 2006 11:20:00 PM, Anonymous said...

I like sending random messages to random people online who I don't know. I feel conversations are funnier when you don't know the person and you start the conversation in the middle, like you already know them. I treat it like I've known them for years. Then I make it really absurd and bizarre and it makes for a great ice breaker and it's a lot of fun. People either laugh, or come back with some really random things themselves. I also like a more subtle message to people I don't know. I like writing a message with a madeup memory, a shared experience, that I say we went through. I reflect on it laughingly and use a third party name, something like John, because everyone knows a John. It makes it sound more believable if another person was there. Then I make the situations not so bizarre and outragous, so that the person really questions whether it happened or not. Many times the person will write back in the affirmative, just because it could have happened, and they would rather lie and pretend they remember the event, rather than hurt my feelings by saying they don't.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, July 02, 2006 5:32:00 PM, Anonymous said...

In high school I got voted most likely to get voted for something. Even though I was the only one who voted, it still felt terrific being nominated.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, July 02, 2006 6:03:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Saving up enough toe nails to press into canvas is a great idea. I'm tired of painting with oil based paints. I'd love to paint in nail polish. The only problem, for me anyway, is that I'm the Starving Artist, and I eat all of my toe nail clippings.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, July 02, 2006 6:11:00 PM, Anonymous said...

the Mad Scientist: Did you know that toe nails are harder than some mineral substances? You might want to think about making jewelry out of your discarded clippings. If you have healthy nails, you could coat them with some sort of acrylic glaze. I'll bet they'd make a sharp necklace, if you strung them together. My wife is pretty bony (she died ten years ago), and I'll bet she'd look fantastic wearing a string of nails. On our annaversary this year, after I dig her up, I'll put them on her. I'm sure that's all we'll talk about during dinner.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, July 02, 2006 6:17:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Garrett: My toe nails won't grow, due to the fact that all of my toes got torn off during a moving piano/farm animal incident a few years back. Most people say my toes cause them to lose their apetite. It's true. They are very filling, but I only let special people savor the flavor of them.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, July 05, 2006 1:42:00 PM, Anonymous said...

I think good advice for a father to give to his only son would be, "Don't make the same mistake I made with your mother. Remember to pull out."

Killers don't shoot guns, killers shoot people. But no killer would ever think to shoot me, because the scope that's mounted on my back isn't very accurate at distances over ten paces.

The wise man in the woods gives me seemingly prophetic advice. I once asked him if I should marry Beatrice. He simply pulled down his pants and started massaging his groin and gyrating his hips, while he trembled and wept at the sky. But he was right, you know. I'm sure glad I didn't marry her.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, July 09, 2006 3:33:00 PM, Anonymous said...

Men have better aim than women. For example, I can pee in the sink, while standing in front of the toilet.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, July 12, 2006 7:36:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Dear Edna,

Sorry about blowing you off last night. But you weren't the only one who got blown off. Renaldo got blown off the tree fort by a mild gust of wind. So I had to take him to the hospital. Well, first we went to Waffle House to grab some pancakes, but apparently they don't serve those there. I ended up getting into an argument with the management which ended in a fistfight where I got plastered in syrup. Plus, I'm not allowed back--ever. Renaldo would have backed me up last night, but apparently he couldn't feel his legs. He's such a puss sometimes.

Anyways, after Waffle House we went to the hospital. But somehow we ended up at the strip club on Blanding Blvd. Solid Gold, I think. I could have sworn there used to be a hospital there. Well, luckily for Renaldo, some of the girls felt sorry for him and gave him a free lap dance.

And while we were at the club we ran into Mr. Fu, who told us to drop by his warehouse. So we did. And there are literally boxes twenty feet high full of fortune cookies there. He gave me a box to take home, which I made Renaldo carry all the way back to the car.

By the time the night was over I had just enough time to drop Renaldo off at the hospital (or rather push him out of the rolling car). When I got home, Grandmother wasn't too happy that I had been hanging out with floozies. I told her not to talk about those kind nurses at Solid Gold like that. I told her they probably saved Renaldo's life.

So what are you doing tomorrow night? We should meet up. I want to take you out to dinner. How's waffle House sound? Don't worry, I'll be incognito tomorrow (I'm dressing up like a giant pancake, and I picked out a syrup costume for you to wear).

give me a call and let me know what time is good for you to come pick me up. (we have to take your car. They'll recognize mine).
~Jarod
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Wednesday, July 12, 2006 7:48:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Dear Edna,

Sorry about blowing you off last night. But you weren't the only one who got blown off. Renaldo got blown off the tree fort by a mild gust of wind. So I had to take him to the hospital. Well, first we went to Waffle House to grab some pancakes, but apparently they don't serve those there. I ended up getting into an argument with the management which ended in a fistfight where I got plastered in syrup. Plus, I'm not allowed back--ever. Renaldo would have backed me up last night, but apparently he couldn't feel his legs. He's such a snatch sometimes.

Anyways, after Waffle House we went to the hospital. But somehow we ended up at the strip club on Blanding Blvd. Solid Gold, I think. I could have sworn there used to be a hospital there. Well, luckily for Renaldo, some of the girls felt sorry for him and gave him free lap dances. But me, being the good friend I am, accepted these dances for him. (I couldn't have them straddling my wounded friend).

And while we were at the club we ran into Mr. Fu, who told us to drop by his warehouse. So we did. And there are literally boxes twenty feet high full of fortune cookies there. He gave me a box to take home, which I made Renaldo carry all the way back to the car.

By the time the night was over I had just enough time to drop Renaldo off at the hospital (or rather push him out of the rolling car). When I got home, Grandmother wasn't too happy that I had been hanging out with floozies. I told her not to talk about those kind nurses at Solid Gold like that. I told her they probably saved Renaldo's life.

So what are you doing tomorrow night? We should meet up. I want to take you out to dinner. How's Waffle House sound? Don't worry, I'll be incognito tomorrow (I'm dressing up like a giant pancake, and I picked out a syrup costume for you to wear).

Give me a call and let me know what time is good for you to come pick me up. (We have to take your car. I fear they'll recognize mine).
~Jarod

 
At Wednesday, July 12, 2006 7:48:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Dear Edna,

Sorry about blowing you off last night. But you weren't the only one who got blown off. Renaldo got blown off the tree fort by a mild gust of wind. So I had to take him to the hospital. Well, first we went to Waffle House to grab some pancakes, but apparently they don't serve those there. I ended up getting into an argument with the management which ended in a fistfight where I got plastered in syrup. Plus, I'm not allowed back--ever. Renaldo would have backed me up last night, but apparently he couldn't feel his legs. He's such a snatch sometimes.

Anyways, after Waffle House we went to the hospital. But somehow we ended up at the strip club on Blanding Blvd. Solid Gold, I think. I could have sworn there used to be a hospital there. Well, luckily for Renaldo, some of the girls felt sorry for him and gave him free lap dances. But me, being the good friend I am, accepted these dances for him. (I couldn't have them straddling my wounded friend).

And while we were at the club we ran into Mr. Fu, who told us to drop by his warehouse. So we did. And there are literally boxes twenty feet high full of fortune cookies there. He gave me a box to take home, which I made Renaldo carry all the way back to the car.

By the time the night was over I had just enough time to drop Renaldo off at the hospital (or rather push him out of the rolling car). When I got home, Grandmother wasn't too happy that I had been hanging out with floozies. I told her not to talk about those kind nurses at Solid Gold like that. I told her they probably saved Renaldo's life.

So what are you doing tomorrow night? We should meet up. I want to take you out to dinner. How's Waffle House sound? Don't worry, I'll be incognito tomorrow (I'm dressing up like a giant pancake, and I picked out a syrup costume for you to wear).

Give me a call and let me know what time is good for you to come pick me up. (We have to take your car. I fear they'll recognize mine).
~Jarod
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Friday, July 14, 2006 4:47:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Love is like a bird that lets you soar higher than you've ever soared...until you get shot down of course.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, July 16, 2006 6:49:00 PM, Anonymous said...

I remember about a year ago my brother told me, "Listen, dude, I'm not your brother. We have different mothers and fathers. I don't know who the hell you are. You're just some guy who likes to show up at my work and give me hugs and yell, 'Hey, everyone! this is my brother, and I love him!'" hahaha he was such a kidder. I wonder what ever happened to him?
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Friday, August 04, 2006 11:42:00 PM, Anonymous said...

I want to get a tattoo on my left foot of a shoe. A white shoe, to match the wife beater tatoo I want to get on my torso.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Monday, August 07, 2006 8:14:00 AM, Anonymous said...

The Spanish moss waved and whirled in the wind like a shredded flag of an impoverished nation. And in the trunk of this mighty and ancient oak from which it hung, someone had carved out the words, “For A Good Time call Amy. 904. 555. 0237. And while you’re on the phone, order a large pepperoni pizza to 1419 South point Rd. Thanks--Your Mother‘s Lover”
In front of the tree there’s a bench that’s swallowed by shade, where a man, Lyle, sits with eyes like a Krispy Kreme Doughnut: Heavily glazed over. He’s drinking some coffee out of a Dunkin Doughnuts coffee cup. But it’s half filled with Smirnoff vodka, or as he tries to justify it to himself, “half empty.” And he twists the cup in his hand as he chortles slightly to himself. “Half empty, isn’t half bad. 50% puts it right it in the middle, and in the middle makes it 100% normal, right?” His logic might have made some sort of sense if it were not 8:30 in the morning.
He reached into his pocket for some cigarettes. Marlboro. He takes one out and lets it dangle out of the corner of his mouth while fumbling around in his pocket for a lighter. He finally finds one and lights up. His sucks his first drag with the same voracity and eagerness as a hungry infant applies to a huge nipple. He cocks his head back to blow the smoke in the air when a naked man, wearing only bright yellow socks and holding an ipod, jogs past. “Morning, Lyle.”
“Morning, Harold. I see your investment package has shrunk since our last encounter. Must be a bearish reaction to the cold weather, huh?” Harold didn’t hear and was now about twenty feet past him.
Up until now he thought today was Wednesday. But now he realizes it’s Friday. Floppy Friday as he likes to call it. He knows that because every Friday Harold, the Investment broker, likes to keep his edge on the market by streaking through the park. Fortunately there aren’t many kids that frequent this park. Most of the people that walk here are older women with thin dogs and thick Boston accents. (The old women, not the dogs. The dogs all seem to have thick Jersey accents for some reason. )
Lyle checks his watch again. “Damn!” he mutters to himself. “Who the hell schedules an interview for 9:30 in the morning?”
He has an interview with a website that specializes in all things strange and humorous. Lyle is a former stand up comedian, so he figures he has a good chance. He walks towards his car pondering which tie he’ll wear to best make a good impression. He has two ties, and both have stains. One is a canary yellow tie with little red dots on it. There is also a ketchup stain near the center of it. The other is a cobalt blue tie with several dribbles of coffee from where he spit out his coffee after his first encounter with Harold.
As Lyle approaches his ‘98 Honda Accord, he notices a flyer on his windshield. It reads, “Tony’s Tire Repair. Because you never know when you’ll need a new tire.” He crumbles it up and walks around to open his door when he notices that somebody has slashed the front left tire. “I hope Tony is willing to slash his prices just as willingly,“ Lyle quips before turning around and walking towards the bus stop.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Monday, August 07, 2006 8:47:00 AM, Anonymous said...

Most of the people that walk here are older women with thin dogs and thick Boston accents. (The old women, not the dogs. The dogs all seem to have thick Jersey accents for some reason. )
Lyle checks his watch again. “Damn!” he mutters to himself. “Who the hell schedules an interview for 9:30 in the morning? I haven‘t had to be somewhere this early in the entire two years since I graduated from college.”
He has an interview with a website that specializes in all things strange and humorous. Lyle is a former stand up comedian, so he figures he has a good chance. He walks towards his car pondering which tie he’ll wear to best make a good impression. He has two ties, and both have stains. One is a canary yellow tie with little red dots on it. There is also a ketchup stain near the center of it. The other is a cobalt blue tie with several dribbles of coffee from where he spit out his coffee after his first encounter with Harold.
As Lyle approaches his ‘98 Honda Accord, he notices a flyer on his windshield. It reads, “Tony’s Tire Repair. Because you never know when you’ll need a new tire.” He crumbles it up and walks around to open his door when he notices that somebody has slashed the front left tire. “I hope Tony is willing to slash his prices just as willingly,“ Lyle quips before turning around and walking towards the bus stop.


Lyle sits on the bus wearing his yellow tie and a blue shirt. He has pants too, of course, but they are as wrinkled as the old woman’s face who is chattering away next to him.
“I have a grandson your age…” the old woman is saying.
Lyle puts his face in his hands and starts massaging his temples slowly. He stretches his forehead and opens his eyes really wide as he stifles a yawn. “That is fascinating,” he interjects. “So tell me more about what life was like during the Industrial revolution.” He doesn’t wait for a response. He gets up and walks to a different seat.
He’s not usually this temperamental, but he’s been depressed ever since Tiffany, his ex, left and moved to California to pursue a modeling career over two weeks ago. She wanted him to move out there with her, but he was against the idea of living in California. Since then, his only female interaction had been with ancient women like the one who he was just sitting next to. Right about now California was starting to look really good to him.
Pulling out his MP3 player, he mumbles to himself, “If I get this job, I can write from anywhere in the world with an internet connection. And then I’ve got to go to the place that makes me happiest. And that place is wherever Tiffany is.” With that he takes off his tie, unbuttons the top collar of his shirt, and ruffles his brown hair a bit as the look in his eyes becomes sharp and focused with determination.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Thursday, August 10, 2006 1:53:00 AM, Anonymous said...

In school I used to absorb everything. I was like the sponge that I tape to my sweaty balls before my daily run, except for nobody ever put the squeeze to me.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Thursday, August 10, 2006 4:39:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I like up front women. And from behind too.
-Jarod Kintz

 
At Sunday, August 13, 2006 5:29:00 AM, Anonymous said...

I handle myself well in tight situations, like wearing Spandex to a formal function.

I'm trying to sleep with half the girls in the city. Preferably the lower half.

If laughter's the best medicine, why don't they come out with jokes in the form of gel tablets? With a warning: Do not take the laugh pill if pregnant or about to become pregnant. Laughter is not for everyone, so ask your doctor if it's right for you. Side effects may include headaches, side splitting,