Also known as the flapamatron
The Comic

31-05-05 by Sam

Today’s comic is very late. Why? Have you ever tried to find a decent diagram of the vagina on the internet? Oh, there’s plenty of real ones, plenty of cartoon ones, and plenty of bad diagrams that turn it into a scary sea creature, but no good ones.

I had to draw this one myself. Hello, and welcome to my worst nightmare. Not only does it not do a human male any favours to start looking at the vagina the same way he might look at the pancreas - or even the solar system, but to actually admit to anyone that you spent any time at all drawing a vagina...

Eugh.

And if any of you are leaning back casually in your chairs, already sporting a healthy glow of cynicism, labouring under the belief that I enjoyed the task I so inconsiderately set myself, type “vagina medical diagram” into Google. Come back in an hour and tell me that sex hasn’t lost its appeal, and I’ll be happy to call you a fucking liar.

Have you ever seen a guitar arch its back in pleasure? Drums that push back hard? A bass that loses control and just moans with pure ecstasy? I have.

I’ve seen other musicians with their instruments. They give them a quick and dirty fingering. Slap them around. Some musicians, in order to get the noises they crave, will even torture their instruments until they scream.  And far too many just beat the shit out of them and throw them away once they’re done.

Not Primus though. Today’s comic may give you a vague understanding of how to go about giving a woman and orgasm, but I’ll bet you she won’t sound half as nice as the Hallucino-Genetics Tour DVD my brother loaned me the other day. And in true voyeuristic fashion, you also get to watch.

Primus have long been my second favourite band. When compared to Nine Inch Nails, my first favourite band, they sit at the other end of an arbitrary scale I just made up. Nine Inch Nails are all about production, layers upon layers upon layers of sound, until every song has a depth that you still won’t find the bottom of after eight years of listening. That’s not to say that the composition isn’t any good. I mean, I wouldn’t go diving in a pool full of shit. Would you?

But Primus are so very good with their instruments that production isn’t necessary. They just know their way around your ears. They touch playfully to get you lubed up. They stroke gently until you feel that tingling warmth start to spread. They focus in on where it really counts with increasing vigor, until you find yourself gasping in shock, then asking for more. And when they finally stick it in, something just explodes...

And then the song ends, and they start again. Only unlike sex, you’re ready for more right away.

Well, that's me covered.  What did you do with your weekend?

-Sam

31-05-05 by James

Let us consider nursery rhymes in all their ridiculousness.

We will begin with Little Miss Muffet. Why doesn't she have a first name? Why is she a Miss? And what the fuck is a tuffet? How do you even spell tuffet? Are curds and whey satisfying foodstuffs? All a bit vague to be reciting to kids, don't you think? The amended version follows below:

Little Miss Muffet

Was an ugly unmarried midget

who made up foolish names for park benches,

and was not Lactose intolerant

and her name was Carol.

Not so metrically satisfying, but far superior in terms of information. That's what nursery rhymes do - they prime our kids not to question ridiculous things piped to them, not to peel back the layers and weasel their way into the grit of things. They ready them for CNN culture.

You can reduce any important piece of information to this meningless gibberish. Imagine the entire history of humanity in a nursery rhyme:

Things went bang

and a monkey was made

who learned to talk

and invented the spade.

Then the monkey grew taller

and slightly less smart

and invented mcdonalds

and liked abstract art.

No wonder the brothers Grimm were so fucking grim (and couldn't spell also). They were probably just depressed.

Also, apologies to creationists for the above rhyme. Here is one for them:

God doesn't exist.

01-06-05 by Sam

Just a few brief notes:

1. The Brothers Grimm wrote fairy tales, not nursery rhymes.

2. Slopes is more than likely much better in bed than I am.  He just likes to get to the point faster.

3. It's a nice feeling, to have the next comic all ready and waiting on my hard drive.  I wonder if this is what real webcomic artists feel like?

This site is hosted by Comic Genesis who provide free web hosting to anyone with a webcomic, no matter how shitty. Although that should be obvious to you by the time you reach this text.