Bizarre Magazine recently ran an article by Stephen Daultrey featuring some primo "JUICY" posters from our arty porn poster book Sexytime, edited by Jacques Boyreau and Peter Van Horne. Seeking to celebrate "the age of trashy porn with tales of enemas, garage lube, balcony wanking" and Sexytime, Daultrey and Boyreau's words effectively magic a nostalgia within the reader that I didn't think possible.

 The 1960s brought on such a world that "Grindhouse movie producers had begun competing about who could up the filth factor," Boyreau points out. This pushed the crazitude of poster art to a higher level, porny and punny. Think enemas, pumps and dumps.

But that's the beauty of the posters seen in Sexytime says Boyreau, "They activated their own post-porn, personal narratives. They're much like how Impressionist paintings or religious, symbolic paintings can induce visionary relationships between body and soul."

So, I've been in Florida for the past week visiting my wife's family for the holidays. Needless to say, I did a doubletake when I noticed this Honda parked next to our rental car outside a shopping mall in Naples:

I am dying to know whose car this is. Mort Walker? Jeff Mason? The guy from CrossGen? Anyone?

Not comics, but a lot of us Seattlites will miss him greatly. 

Photo from the Fantagraphics Warehouse we just moved out of, located a few blocks south of Safeco Field.

This single panel from Neal Adams' BATMAN ODYSSEY #4 sums up what strikes me as being the most unintentionally hilarious mainstream comic I've possibly ever read. It's bafflingly crazy. 

I should note that the subsequent panel, not pictured, reveals that Alfred is not actually showing Bruce how to bounce the ol' pogo stick, but instead is playing the "World's Smallest Violin".

You all know the "World's Smallest Violin" joke, right? Everyone does. So I ask you, is this how you would draw the act? Is that how you would draw the person on the receiving end? 

Also, note the cleavage at top from the adjoining panel, and Bruce Wayne oogling his own penis in the lower-right.

How much of this is conscious? And if so, to what end? This is craziest comic I've come across in years. Please, someone smarter than me, review this series.

From the files, Item #1,075,763,294. Over the years, we've tried virtually every approach to "rejection" letters that I can think of: supreme diplomacy, false hope, honest criticism, scorched earth rejection, and everything in between. So I'm not sure which kind prompted this reply from an aspiring cartoonist*, but it makes me laugh every time I see it (it's been hanging on a basement wall for years):

* full name edited to protect us more than him.   

From Defenders #48, Marvel Comics, 1972.

This is a somewhat cheesy post, but hey, I'm desperate. I'm selling 300 Gasoline Alley Sunday newspaper tearsheets by Frank King from 1935-1950 on eBay and you should bid on them! I'm also selling a copy of COMIX 2000 from L'Association and a Crumb portfolio. Baby needs a new pair of shoes!