Today’s Sunday cartoon makes me both nostalgic for the past and anxious for the future. Nostalgic for a time when honey-roasted peanuts on commercial airlines were awarded as freely as plastic necklaces at Mardi Gras, and…

A few weeks ago, I published a Sunday cartoon with three word puzzles and they were so well received that I rushed to get another one in the lineup. And here it is, Jazz Pickles. As promised.

Welcome to this tiny speck of this universe, viewer. I hope the time you spend here will add positively to your life in some way, or at least be neutral. If it ruins your life, please let me know how I might avoid causing that in future posts.

This kind of combination of names or phrases to create a joke doesn’t have an official name, but my partner, Wayno, specializes in this kind of gag and has named them streptonyms. He explains why…

There is a saying attributed to Ram Dass that is inaccurate but has a better rhythm than the way he actually said it—“If you think you’re spiritually enlightened, go home for the holidays.” It’s one of my favorite sayings because…

Today’s cartoon (above) is about fear. Does fear frighten you? Fear is a fascinating thing in that it exists solely in the mind…

Welcome to this tiny piece of your overall life experience, my friend. If you decide to read further, I hope you’ll come across something that will lurk amusingly in the shadows of the rest of your day.

Today’s cartoon (above) is not about a laundromat. If you thought it was, you weren’t looking carefully enough.

I’ll be discussing the strange Sunday cartoon above in a moment, but first I’d like to mention a bit of business from last week.

In my comments on one of Wayno’s cartoons about the generic bathroom sign for males,…

The scene above happened at Skywalker Ranch, of course, and if I know George Lucas (I don’t) he had a dump truck full of uncooked rice onhand to revive these movie stars. That’s the first layer of this cartoon.

The second layer is…

The legend of Frankenhuahua isn’t so much chilling as it is annoying. The local villagers, with frayed nerves from the constant yapping, eventually chased him with torches into the woods. On clear nights, you can still hear his yapping echoing through the forest.

Greetings, beloved Jazz Pickles and other readers of words.

If you’re reading these words, it means that I was able to put them here and you were able to find them. But if I lost my access to the Internet, where would you find my cartoons or commentary?

Hello, Jazz Pickles and other fellow temporary earthlings. This week, I answer some reader questions…

Though the cartoon above about the funny pages was submitted weeks ago and the following topic only just came up recently, they are connected in a way…

Happy now, Jazz Pickles! (Happy later, too, but that comes later.) As usual of late, the following paragraphs have nothing to do with these cartoons but everything to do with the cartoonist.

If you read last week’s post, you’ll be interested to find out how the mysterious package story and the incident in Turkey turned out. Intentionally, I say nothing about politics or Valentine’s Day. You’re welcome.

Hola, Jazz Pickles, and others! It’s been a week of wonders here at the temporary Rancho Bizarro Gypsy Camp in the boondocks outside of Oaxaca City.

WONDER ONE…

Hola, Jazz Pickles, and other amigos! I am writing again this week from my mountaintop hideaway somewhere in the state of Oaxaca, which is in Mexico somewhere. I know this because people in authority have said that we live in Mexico, we drove here by car and did not encounter anything that looked like a border, so we feel pretty confident that we are in Mexico somewhere. Also, there are a lot of Mexicans everywhere we go.

If you’ve read my previous couple of posts, you know that Olive Oyl and I are hanging out on a rural Oaxaca mountainside for a month, enjoying the sounds of nature when it has not been overrun by humans. My god, we can be annoying, can we not? To compare the natural sounds of this planet to the soundscape of an average day in an average modern city is to realize how deeply unpopular we must be with the rest of the life forms on earth…

Hola, Jazz Pickles! I hope you’re all staying clean and dry in the recent monsoon of shit storms this period of history is providing.