Showing posts with label Crazy Half-Nekked Wife. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crazy Half-Nekked Wife. Show all posts

Lip Brush With Fame

On occasion I get mistaken for Elvis Costello by people who don't really know what Elvis Costello looks like. They see glasses and a hat and figure I must be him. But now it will be an even more frequent nuisance, because Elvis is sporting a mustache. Damn that look-stealing limey. What next? A cigar?













He has even fashioned his hairline to look like mine, as evidenced in this photo of him doffing his hat at the end of Conan O'Brien's show last night.















For anyone interested in how to accurately tell the difference between myself and Costello in the wild, I offer this brief list of defining characteristics:

1. His hair is longer and wavy, mine is very short
2. The brims of his hats are larger than mine
3. His clothing is expensive, mine is mostly from resale shops and smells of cigars
4. He has Diana Krawl on his arm, I have CHNW (personally, I think I come out ahead on this one)
5. I am the one occasionally mistaken for Elvis Costello, he is the one never mistaken for me.

Pursuit of Paradise

Bizarro is brought to you today by Parenting Made Simple.

Yes, it is a political cartoon I have posted here.
No, I do not feel like getting all political today.

Instead, let's talk about the weather. Here at Bizarro International Headquarters in New York City, it has been raining most of the time for weeks. The entire month of June was shot to hell by rain and colder-than-average temperatures. I feel like I'm trapped in Garcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude. I really must move to the tropics somewhere. Problem is, they don't have a New York City anywhere down there.

I have tried wishing that the Dutch had built NYC somewhere in the Caribbean, but it doesn't change history and I'm still stuck in colder climes. In the end, it comes down to my deciding what is more important to me: culture or climate?

I lived and traveled in the south for several decades before I moved to NYC, so I have plenty of experience from which to make my decision. Even with the hot, sunny weather I crave, the general cultural and political attitudes of the southern U.S. do not suit me. In fact, at times they depress me as much as the weather in NY, especially now that I have known what it is like to live here, in a liberal, creative, open-minded, international community. And though I adore more exotic places like Central America and the Caribbean, they are too small and rural to quench my desire for the big city.

This makes it an easy decision. Culture is more important than weather, the way personality is more important than looks when choosing a spouse. Though both must be in the right ballpark, a great personality and average looks go much further in a relationship than a beautiful exterior wrapped around a sock puppet. If you can find both, as I have in CHNW, you are doubly blessed. (Just checking to see if she is reading my blogs. I'll let you know in a few days.)

There are two answers to my pathetic, meaningless, spoiled white-collar dilemma: become wealthy enough to have another home in a warmer place where I can spend the winters, find a way to embrace the weather in NYC and stop being a whiny brat.

I think we all know which of those choices is available to me.

FURTHER: I left the West Coast out of this mix because although I like San Francisco as much as NYC, it tends not to be any hotter or sunnier in most ways. I love the weather in L.A., but not the city. San Diego is too conservative, and that's pretty much all the big cities to choose from. Seattle and Vancouver seem cool, but the same weather problems. Such a whiner.

Muggers

Bizarro is brought to you today by Mug Shots.

I've never been mugged, but I'm sure it's a harrowing experience that would bother me for a long time. I've been in a couple of impromptu street scuffles in the past five years, just because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it's pretty awful. I didn't get anything more than a fat lip and a few bruises, fortunately, but it is not the sort of activity I'm anxious to get into again. Even though the stories are fun to tell later.

One was when my wife and I were freezing cold and looking for a cab late at night in NYC. We finally got one to stop and a drunk guy jumped into the cab ahead of us after I opened the door. The driver said, "No, I stopped for them." I said, "That's our cab." The drunk guy said, "I don't think so!" and continued to climb in. The only thing left outside the cab was his shin, so I gave it a good hard kick. I was wearing dress shoes, so it must have hurt a lot. He jumped out and came after me, shouting something like, "Did you just kick me, you motherf*cker?!" I took it as a rhetorical question and did not answer. In his inebriated state, I was able to dodge him as he pursued me around in circles. Meanwhile, CHNW jumped into the cab, I followed, and we took off. All's well that ends well.

The other time was in Rome when we were walking with another American couple down a busy shopping street on a sunny, Sunday afternoon. All of us are animal rights folks, so when we passed a fur store, CHNW and the female half of the other couple both spat on the sidewalk in front of it. We didn't know until we had walked another 25 feet down the street that the family that owns the store had seen us. Apparently, spitting in Italy is more serious than here.

Four people rushed out of the store – a couple in their 40s and a couple in their 70s – and we turned to confront them. With words, or so we thought. For a few seconds, the womenfolk were content to shout at each other in their native languages. But suddenly, up to the forefront rushed the 70-year-old man. Think Robert Deniro in Raging Bull, with white hair. Without warning, he punched our friend's wife right in the jaw and knocked her down. Unpleasantness ensued, including punching, kicking, scratching and screaming.

Fortunately, passersby pulled us apart after a couple of minutes and we all went our separate ways. None of our attackers spoke English, none of us spoke Italian, so we can only assume we were fighting about the same thing.

Before we spit on the sidewalk in front of any more Italian-owned fur stores, CHNW and I are going to take one of these self defense courses.

These are completely unexaggerated, true stories, by the way.

Villainous Heroes of History

Bizarro is brought to you today by Budget Family Cruises.

Like pirates, vikings were ruthless killers, thieves and slave owners. Their main source of income was sailing to another country, killing the men and stealing everything they could find a use for, including their women. And yet, we have made pop culture heroes of them.

In spite of their lack of positive social contribution, I love to do viking cartoons. Drawing their ships, outfits and horny hats is a kick and there is something about infamous amoral hellions that makes for a seemingly never-ending pool of humor.

Viking gags run in my family as I am married to the step-granddaughter of Dik Browne, the creator of Hagar the Horrible, which conveniently also makes her the stepdaughter of his son, Chris Browne, who took over the strip after Dik passed. All told, CHNW is related to five professional cartoonists, including her bio-dad (Ralph Smith, editorial cartoonist and former syndicated dude), an uncle (Chance Browne, Hi and Lois), and me. I'm pretty sure that's the record.

Emergency


PLEASE HELP US!!!


Sorry to alarm you with this picture of your favorite cartoonist (let me have my fantasies) and his CHNW being mauled by a polar bear, but I felt the need to make a dramatic point. Read on, but relax, I assure you we were in no danger in the picture above.

I rarely ask anything of you but I'd like to ask you to help out CHNW and me today. As some of you know, we are founding board members of the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary. It's expensive to rescue animals, what with all the night drops over enemy territory, ninja outfits, Navy Seal sharpshooters, etc., and charity dollars are way down in this currently creepy economy.

But here is the good news: a rich dude has promised he would match all the funds we could raise throughout May! We're as happy as a circus tiger with a trainer's arm in his mouth and are pushing hard to get some bucks to come in THIS MONTH. Please toss us a little (or a lot) something, every little bit helps and every dollar will be doubled! I can personally vouch that we're not rich, we work hard, and every penny goes to helping animals and the environment. For reals.

(NOTE: Some words in the text above have been italicized for your ease in picking out the important bits.)

Ash Wednesday


Since today is Ash Wednesday, I thought I'd post a short, special tribute to my ex-girlfriend and wife, Ashley, a.k.a. CHNW, whom I commonly call, "Ash."

Here she is wearing a coat that has bunny ears on the hood. She has related to non-human animals in a special way since early childhood and cannot seem to break the habit. (Anyone who makes a bestiality comment gets voted off the island.)

Here she is with a rescued fawn at Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary. The momma doe was killed by a car so we took in the fawn for a few days until we could find a wildlife rehabilitator. The fawn was fond of sucking on Ash's earlobe for comfort, which Ashley enjoyed, too. What a nice lady.

Here, she is very excited about a rescued calf at Woodstock, whom we named Dylan. He was found tied up inside a dark barn and was destined to be veal. That was a few years ago, now he is all grown up and the size of a Cadillac Escalade. He still comes to the fence when Ash calls him, and clearly has affection for her. She can no longer get inside the pasture with him, however, for he could accidentally crush her skull with a twitch of his upper lip. Did I mention he is large?

Here is the obligatory Ashley with chicken and donkey shot. This kind of thing tends to happen to her a lot, this time it was at Leilani Farm Sanctuary in Maui. Keen observers will notice there are two donkeys in this picture, one is pushing his nose into Ashley's butt. Who can blame him?

Here she is sharing a guava with said butt-muncher.

Speaking of butts, in this photo, Ash cleverly displays the world's largest nut, which comes from a palm tree of some sort. Since it is somewhat difficult to discern the nut from Ashley's own booty, I have included a picture of myself with said nut for proportion.















To conclude this special Ash Wednesday edition I offer this picture of Ash in a medieval helmet. This took place a couple of years ago in an Italian museum which does not employ enough guards to prevent this sort of thing.






(Special thanks to my buddy, Richard Cabeza, who's also married to an "Ash" and who reminded me of this special day.)

Death Takes a Holiday


















This special Xmas edition of Bizarro is brought to you by
Last Minute Gift Ideas.

The photo above is from CHNW's and my 2007 holiday email. We took this picture in Montreal in the beautiful and huge cemetery up on Mount Royal, for which the city is named. It isn't Photoshopped, we came across the head stone just as it appears and put our camera on timer to make the picture. As an inveterate hater of Christmas and the entire tacky season, I could scarcely believe my good fortune.

We searched for hours looking for other gravestones with names of other things we wished were dead like "Neo-Con," "Factory Farms," "Fox News Network," and "Reality Shows," to no avail. For some reason, they don't place them alphabetically.

The cartoon posted today is from several years ago and is one of my personal favorites. I published it on Xmas two years in a row and it was very popular both times. I got complaint letters both times, too, of course, from people who thought I was making fun of their heroes, missing the point of the cartoon entirely.

I'm going up to Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary for a dandy holiday with a nice big wad of friends. Hope your holiday is as groovy as the Monkees in 1969.

Pie Homage


Today's Bizarro is brought to you by The Center for the Study of Hitchcock Homages.

I've seen a lot of graphic caption balloon puns over the years, have even done some myself, so I tend to shy away from them. But when "my friend, Derek, gave me the idea for this joke," I liked it and decided the addition of the pie chunks made it worth doing. That's me and CHNW (note the monogram), in case you have some kind of rare vision disorder that prevents you from spotting the friggin' obvious.

And yes, that's vegan pie. Duh.

Banjo-Playing Rooster!

Want to have a terrific day in the Catskills Mountains eating great food, playing with fluffy, happy animals and meeting your favorite cartoonist in the whole world? Then come to WOODSTOCK FARM ANIMAL SANCTUARY's JUNE JAMBOREE!


WHADDYA, CRAZY?
Seriously, it's lots of fun, it's for a good cause, and I'll be hanging out all day, painting faces or drawing caricatures or something like that. You'll love it, and your kids are guaranteed to have a great time – if you have kids and bring them, that is. (Kids you do not have are not guaranteed to have a great time, nor do you need to bring children to have a great time yourself. Without children, you can drink beer with impunity and use adult language indiscriminately.)

DO IT, SUCKER!
Saturday, June 14, 11am to 5pm (if it rains, it's the next day)
Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary, 35 Wagner Road, Willow NY 12495
More info here
Easy ways to get there without a car here.
Directions here
or call 845-679-5955

WITH!
Clover!, the gravity-defying baby goat...
Albie!, NY's most famous bionic farm animal...
BEER! with cold, bubbly goodness...
Snacks and smoothies! from Karma Road Cafe...
Music! by roots n' reggae band, "Original Good"...
Elizabeth Mitchel & Daniel Littleton of "Ida" will play hip kids songs...
Salvatore LaRussa Dance Theatre will do some crazy dancing...
Dan Piraro
will be doing something or other...
The infamous CHNW will, too...

Admission is $10, kids under 12 free
www.woodstocksanctuary.org

GEE WILLAKERS, I HOPE TO SEE YOU THERE!

Coast Hopping

Today's Bizarro (title panel at left, full cartoon below) is brought to you two days late by Jet Lag Industries. "Stay in bed until noon. You deserve it!"

Haven't posted in several days because I've been out in Californy since Friday and I just got back late last night. The comedy show at The Rio in Santa Cruz on Friday night went wonderfully–good show, met a lot of nice folks in the lobby, sold some books and trading cards, no casualties and very little collateral damage. Saturday, I lept out of bed at dawn, drove to San Jose, flew to Los Angeles, then drove up to Encino to MC the main stage at an all-day festival in a park. By the end of the day I was beat.

But somehow I made it to Sunday and took the day off. Slept late, had brunch at Real Food Daily, walked and rode bikes up and down the beach with CHNW and a friend of ours, took a nap, then had dinner at Madeleine Bistro, one of our favorite restaurants in the country. Lovely weather, lovely company, lovely weekend.

Monday was spent in airports and airline seats, so let's not talk about it.

This cartoon is based on my own experiences in a band many years ago, and the many musicians I have met since. Like all areas of the popular arts, most talented musicians must grovel to make ends meet as they watch wave after wave of mediocre talents make millions because they had the right look, the right agent, an uncle in the Mafia, etc. Many are magnanimous, but surely some are bitter enough to have written a song like this one.

The guitar in this cartoon is my own Gibson ES-137, which I love more than my own son. (All right, I don't have a son, but I like the guitar a lot.)

Click on the cartoon for an enlarged version. Click on the blue words for a humorous experience.

Saturday In The Park With Piraro

This Saturday I'll be in Los Angeles all damn day hosting an outdoor festival thing called Worldfest. It will be both fun and funny. Please drop by and say hello. If you mention to me that you saw this blog, I will give you an invisible, weightless bowling ball. I'll even autograph it if you want. CHNW will be there, too, so this is your chance to meet the lettuce bikini goddess in person!

As usual, I'll be selling books and trading cards. These first packs of trading cards will be collector's items, don't forget.

Click on the poster image for a larger, legible version!

A Bizarre B&B

Recently, CHNW and I spent a few days at a very cool new B&B in Hollywood, CA, called Hollywood Bed & Breakfast. It's run by a cool couple who call themselves William and Nina, and is entirely renovated and decorated by their own four hands. To say this place is visually unique is an understatement.

Ever surface of every room of the house is painted, mosaicked, or in some other way adorned in an unusual fashion. The photo below is the front door, which is only one small snippet of the odd concoction of styles inside. Even though it is visually exotic, the whole house is very comfortable, the pool area is gorgeous, and the location is terrific: corner of Orange Grove Ave. and Hollywood Blvd. behind a huge fence and lots of greenery.

The B&B business is brand new, we were their first guests, in fact, so chalk this up under "undiscovered gems." Contact them via email or go here.

hollywoodbandb@earthlink.net

Tell them Dan and his Crazy Half-Nekked Wife sent you.

Gimp Goat Gets Gift!


My good friends and cohorts at Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary are on the front page of the Metro section of today's New York Times! Here is the more legible online article.

What they didn't mention is that we have over a hundred animals under our care, we offer fun and friendly tours all Spring and Summer (are those words supposed to be capitalized? I think not, but it always seems to me that they deserve it. Winter, no, but Spring and Summer? HELL yes!) and that we are raising money to build a small medical facility for our critters. At present, Doug and Jenny are treating these guys in the foyer of their home. What a drag. Click here for info on how to toss a couple dollars at a good cause. I can personally guarantee that every penny of your dough will go to the critters. No misappropriation of funds here, I assure you!

Here's a dandy picture of the original board members who built the farm, along with many valuable and saintly volunteers. From left to right, Sergio La Vaca (star of Spanish children's TV show, "El Mono Loco!"), CHNW, Jenny Brown with Robin the chicken, Dawn Ladd with Brandy the rooster, Doug Abel with Elmo the pitchfork, and Haley is the shy goat in the back.

Come visit us this year and meet the critters. You won't be sorry and you'll have a little less bad karma to burn off when you die.

Rock Star Proximity

If you would like to know what it is to feel extra groovy, go see an Old 97s concert. I became a fan of theirs years ago and they're one of my perennial favorites.

The lead singer and main songwriter is Rhett Miller (right, with goofy cartoonist), who also has a solo recording career and regularly does solo/acoustic concerts at small venues in NYC and elsewhere. At one such show a few years ago, a friend of mine who'd met Rhett before introduced us and it turned out Rhett had been a fan of Bizarro since college. Since then, we have been drastically in love with each other. Our wives don't mind.

CHNW and I saw Rhett doing a solo show last Saturday night in NYC at the Hiro Ballroom, and hung out with him and his gang after the show (his wife is from Ohio and a big group of Buckeye's were in town for a birthday celebration.) We had a dandy time, indeed.

In addition to partying with the rock star, we met the infamous Barber Brothers, three guys from Ohio. The craziest Barber by far, is the one they call "Dave," seen at left between me and CNHW. (Note: None of us is as gay as we look in the pic. Not that there's anything wrong with that.) It was, in fact, Dave who sent these photos of the festivities. Thanks, Dave!

If you like music that is fun to listen to and does not suck, I recommend checking out Old 97s older stuff, and their new album, too. Rhett played a few songs from the new album last Saturday and they were the exact opposite of terrible.

My secret hope is that they'll let me join them on stage someday to sing lead vocals on one of their old standards. I used to be the front man for a band in the 80s and still sing songs in my comedy shows. I still haven't lost it – in fact, I'm a better singer than even Rhett. Ask anyone.

Pee Wee, CHNW, 'n' Me

A few months ago, CHNW and I were at a fundraiser party thing in Los Angeles (note the dopey nametags) and came across Paul Reubens in the crowd. I enjoy seeing celebrities as much as anyone, but I don't usually hound them for autographs or photos. However, I'm a HUGE fan of Pee-wee Herman, so I had to get my picture taken with him. It was a big day for me and I rushed home and emailed the pic to my two adult daughters, who were green with envy.

This was also a big day for CHNW, who was not only a big fan of Reubens but grew up in Sarasota just as Paul had, though a couple of decades later. In her excitement (and CNHW can get very excited) she immediately mentioned that a girl she grew up with was the daughter of a good friend of Reubens at Sarasota High School. As the words escaped her mouth, we all remembered that Sarasota was also where he was arrested, and all in attendance were flooded with feelings of weirdness. I'm sure Paul is over it by now, but it remains for me a dark period in history, as one of the most brilliant comic characters in entertainment came to an end. Paul is still acting, of course, and doing a fine job. But I'd kill to hear that Pee-wee laugh again.

Meeting celebrities is often a double-edged sword. If the celeb isn't nice, it can ruin your perception of them forever, thus rendering certain movies, TV shows, music, etc. too irritating to enjoy. (That happened to me with Jimi Hendrix. I saw him once while hallucinating during a high fever and he was gratuitously unkind. I cannot listen to Purple Haze now without tearing up.) Paul Reubens was not rude, however. He was friendly and put up with our photos like a champ, but as soon as he walked away and I had a chance to look at the photo, I realized that Pee-wee Herman is taller and has more hair than I do.

Will these random challenges to my self-esteem never end?

Two-Wheeler

I'm a big fan of bicycles and scooters and buzz the streets of NYC on both each week. A reader of this blog who has a bike blog of his own, recently posted some pics of me and my vehicles (or "babies," as I call them when we're alone) and I wanted to share them with you.

Here is a small part of a photo of me and my wacky Copenhagen bike that Jon posted on his site. Can you even tell what it is? Hint: that black thing is protruding from my crotch. Check it out at the link below, to see if you were right.

Also on his site is a pic of me and CHNW on our Vespa. I bought it new in 1981 and have been its only owner – very rare for an old-school scooter these days. A comment in a previous post labeled me as "crazy" for riding it in NYC. Most people think so, but the truth might surprise you. Because traffic here is heavy, it tends not to move very quickly. I usually find myself cruising along at 30mph, passing the cars stuck in traffic. Also, NYC is filled with so many pedestrians, bicycle messengers, scooters, motorcycles, rollerbladers, etc, that all drivers are constantly on high alert not to kill someone. So in the end, this is the safest place I've ever ridden. Much safer than my previous Dallas location, where traffic often moves very fast and the roads are full of SUV-driving Soccer Moms who seem not to notice anything smaller than a Lincoln Navigator. I was nearly killed on a weekly basis there.
http://grinderswheels.blogspot.com/

Drawing Tools/Water and Meat

I've gotten a few inquiries about two of my previous posts, so I thought I'd answer them here.

Drawing Tools: I draw my cartoons the old-fashioned way, with brush and ink on bristol board, then scan them into a Mac to do all the repair work and coloring in Photoshop. I have a very cool state-of-the-art screen from Wacom called a Cintiq, on which you can draw with a stylus directly on the screen, which is pressure sensitive. So I can get a thicker line by pushing harder, thinner line by letting up pressure, etc., just like a paintbrush. I could (and have, on rare occasion) draw an entire cartoon on my computer, and no one would be able to tell the difference. This fancy-pants screen is tons o' good in my line of work.

Water and Meat: Many folks all over the place wonder about this "5,000 gallons to raise a pound of beef" (the subject of CHNW's demonstration in Times Square) and how much water it takes to raise plants for vegan/vegetarain diets. The way it works is that most of the crops we grow in this country are fed to animals, not people. So the water it takes to grow them is figured into the amount it takes to raise a pound of meat. Feeding plants directly to humans is 12-to-16 times more efficient than feeding them to animals (the number varies depending on the animal and the crop). In other words, it takes enough food and water to provide 16 meals for humans to create a single serving of meat. If the whole world turned vegetarian (yeah, like that would ever happen), we could feed 12-to-16 times more humans with the crops we currently grow. Simply put, it would solve world hunger.

The next question people ask is what you would do with all those farm animals in this vegetarian utopia. Simple: Stop breeding them. There are nearly a 100 billion "food" animals alive on the planet at any given time. Stop allowing them to breed, and they'd be gone in no time. As would the millions of tons of feces per second that they create, as well as the greenhouse gases they emit, and the pollution resulting from their poo. Contrary to popular belief, you can't use that much poo for fertilizer. Mostly, it just pollutes the air and ground water. We'd also see a HUGE reduction in medical costs, as most cancers, heart disease, diabetes, you name it, would disappear.

Like I say, vegetarianism will never happen worldwide without some kind of devestating plague that makes it too dangerous to eat animals, but all of these facts are part of why I don't subsidize the animal agriculture industry by buying or consuming animal products of any kind.

For more info on this kind of thing, visit Woodstocksanctuary.org. CHNW and I are founding board members and pour a lot of our time, work and money into this project.

Crazy Wife, Half-Nekked Again!

In honor of Earth Day, Crazy Half-Nekked Wife was down in Times Square taking a shower on the sidewalk today as part of a PETA demonstration about the environment. Apparently, it takes 5,000 gallons of water to raise one pound of beef, so being vegetarian is an excellent way to lessen your carbon footprint. Also, the UN Committee on Agriculture last year released a study citing animal agriculture as a bigger contributor to greenhouse gases than all transportation combined. PETA said it best: If you think you're an environmentalist and you're still eating meat, think again.

Hope you enjoy these dandy photos of CHNW and her fellow activist, Chloe Jo, in Times Square today.





















Here's a link to a story in the NYTimes about it. The naked cowboy in the Times pic was not part of the event, he's just a permanent fixture of Times Square, wandering around singing to tourists for money. I guess he was excited to see other people with his minimalist approach to fashion, so he joined in.
http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/04/21/times-square-weathers-a-brief-shower-with-no-beef/index.html?ex=1366516800&en=3964b53e702e3139&ei=5090&partner=rssuserland&emc=rss

Dancing Machines

A friend of ours sent this sublime shot of us on the dancefloor at the Genesis Awards a few weeks back and I had to post it. My favorite elements of this pic are the disco backlighting on our hair and the shiny piece of saliva at the corner of my mouth. It was late in the evening and I'd long since stopped grooming myself for photos.

See the "Me and Bill Maher" posting from April 5 for the rest of the story.

Big Tip

Today's cartoon is made possible by a grant from the Bellhops Union of Nevada. "If you plan to leave us alone with your bags, you had better tip generously."

The idea for this one was donated by a friend, Derek. It appealed to me because as a kid I enjoyed riding on luggage carts, and my wife still regularly does it when we visit fancy hotels. I'm usually the one pushing her around while she swings on the bar and howls like a monkey until security asks us to stop, but occasionally she'll talk a bellhop into doing it as she lies curled up in the fetal position among the luggage, as stone-faced as a statue. I've had her delivered to the room with the luggage many times, but I'm never sure how much to tip. CHNW likes to push the adage about the customer always being right to its limits.