Chasing Pants

(To embiggenate the cartoon below, strike it solidly in the middle with your cursor.)

Bizarro is brought to you today by Running Apparel. 

If you are a person with at least one eye that works in the usual fashion and you have the average amount of observational skills, you may notice the difference between the cartoon I’ve posted above and the one that appeared in your local newspaper’s funnies today or at the top center spot on today’s homepage. The one in newspapers and on’s homepage is the one I submitted for publication four weeks ago––the one in this blog is one I took from my computer and posted here moments before I typed this sentence. Sometimes when I look at a cartoon four weeks later as I prepare to post it, I see a way to improve the gag in some small way and so I change it. That’s the reason for today’s change. I think this version sells the gag a little better than the original one. (I’ll tell you the difference at the end of this blog post in case you can’t spot it.)*

For decades I’ve thought that certain jogging apparel looks a bit like underwear and I’ve amused myself by imagining the jogger is chasing the person who stole their clothes. That occasional fantasy was the simple genesis of this gag.

Once, however, when I lived in Brooklyn, I saw a heavy-set woman of about 40 jogging down the street between the parked cars and traffic around lunchtime actually in her underwear. She was wearing a large, longline, white bra, a mid-thigh-length, pink slip, pantyhose, and running shoes. My guess was she was in the habit of jogging during her lunch hour at work, had forgotten her jogging outfit and just figured “what’s the difference?” Or, perhaps she jogged that way every day because, in truth, what is the difference?

I’ve also long thought it was funny how most of us will appear in public in swimwear but would be mortified to be seen in public in our undies, in spite of the fact that they often cover more of us than the swimwear. It’s more about context and looking out of place than it is about modesty.

Based on social media activity this week, most people seem to enjoy the ridiculous nature of the above cartoon but a few folks left comments about not understanding it. I’ve always had trouble relating to people who don’t understand absurdist humor. How someone can tolerate this utterly surreal existence we humans have built for ourselves without a sense of humor about the absurdity of it all is beyond me. Most days, it’s the only thing that keeps me from jumping off a cliff.

This cartoon is something of an illustrated history of human religion. This dog worships the entities who are responsible for his food and shelter in the same way that early humans assumed that the good and bad that happened to them was the result of some bigger, more powerful being(s). Long after our species has proven where things like weather, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, famine, floods, and diseases actually come from, most of us humans still worship imaginary entities in an effort to keep our luck falling on the “good” side.

This is also a big part of what’s fun about having a dog; you get a taste of what it is to be a god. They worship and fear you and you control their lives. With my dogs, I perpetuate this idea by dressing as Zeus and threatening them with a large, cardboard lightning bolt.

Wouldn’t it be nice if combating the ravages of old age was as simple as injecting peanut butter into your wrinkles? People with peanut allergies could use cream cheese.

I’ve been on a Medusa kick lately. Not sure why. I’ve done a few about her over the years but my favorite one (below) was never published in Bizarro. It appears in a book of mine and was published in Scandinavia years ago but it is too racy for American newspapers. We can elect a narcissistic, racist, adolescent maniac to the most powerful office in the world but to publish a drawing of a butt in the funny pages might cause western civilization to collapse. Makes perfect sense. Laugh at it or jump off a cliff, I suppose.

My feelings would be a lot less hurt if you’d drop by my store and check out the new shirts, totes, mugs, and stuff that I’m selling. There are various designs, styles, colors, etc.. so dig around. Below are some pics of a few of the offerings. There are two pages, so don’t miss the other one.

If I may be immodest briefly, I’m pretty happy with this Bigfoot for president cartoon. With America’s current embarrassingly ludicrous choice of a childish, lying, con-man, TV gameshow host, carnival barker, how far behind can an imaginary redneck icon like Sasquatch be? I guarantee he’d do a lot less harm than the Cheeto Mussolini.

Speaking of shirts, I’m working on a campaign poster T-shirt for Bigfoot. (Based on this idea but not this cartoon on the shirt.) Sign up to receive an email each time I post on this blog (right now, right margin, under the FEED THE BUNNY logo) and you’ll know when I’ve added it to the store. Or “follow” my Bizarro FB page here.

I’m trying to decide if his campaign slogan should be “Make-Believe Leadership for a Make-Believe World” or “From Tiny Hands to Giant Feet”. Let me know which you like best.

In case you’re not aware, “Fashion Week” is actually a thing in New York City. Once a year, gobs of models and designers and buyers and fashion industry folks descend on NYC for a week of runway shows and all that. I don’t know what time of year they do it now, but in 2001 it was happening the week that the planes hit the World Trade Center on 9/11. According to someone I used to know in that business, a number of the models at one show believed Fashion Week was the target of those attacks. You see, to be a model you have to be pretty. Nobody asks your I.Q. and you mostly don’t need one.

That’s it for this week, Jazz Pickles. Until next time, be smart, be happy, be nice.

*THE ANSWER TO THE DIFFERENCE MENTIONED IN THE FIRST PARAGRAPH IS the runner’s shoes. I originally thought dress shoes were better for the gag but now think that running shoes make it less obvious until you’ve read what the man is saying. Delayed punch lines are always the best, I think.

Vroom Bite Myth Drugs Death Poop

Bizarro is brought to you today by Logo Lust.



All week long I’ve been fielding questions from readers about this NASCAR cartoon. It’s simple, really: Drivers get paid to wear logos and if this guy was taller, he’d have room for more and make more money. By the way, if you’ve ever wondered what NASCAR stands for: Non-Articulate Snazzy-Car Appalachian Racecardriver.





Each winter (here in the U.S.) I do a handful of snowman gags and this year is no different. I got a letter from one reader who didn’t understand this one, and claimed nobody in her family could figure it out, either. I’m guessing they don’t have snow or rabbits in their part of the world. The simple answer is that snowpeople have carrot noses and rabbits eat carrots. Poor little snowboy. Fortunately, cosmetic surgery for snowmen is little more than a trip to the produce aisle.




I’ve long been interested in the unflagging drive of the human race toward superstition; everything from fear of the number 13 to belief in a higher power. Our brains are almost biologically hardwired to this kind of thing in that we find it irresistible to assign meaning to every little thing. When something out of the ordinary happens to anyone, anywhere, most people find it more logical to accept that an invisible, all-powerful, eternal force of the universe is behind it rather than simple coincidence.  How we as a society became so frightened of a random number like 13 is a matter for history, I suppose, but it is remarkable. Does anyone know if there are countries where 13 is used for floor numbers in buildings? Is it just the U.S. that has this phobia or are other places similarly affected? (I know I could google this but I’ve got to finish this blog and get back to work on Bizarro deadlines.)

I like pharmacy cartoons because the modern obsession with pharmaceuticals is a fascinating subject. Most of us would rather take a handful of drugs made of god-knows-what from god-knows-where than rely on a good diet and exercise or a natural remedy. I dislike drawing these kinds of cartoons because of all the extra work that goes into the products surrounding the counter, but it is a good chance to toss in some extra background jokes. Click on this cartoon to enlarge it if you can’t see the products here. You might get an extra chuckle. (In the interest of full disclosure, and so you don’t think I’m some sort of health snob, I’ve been on antidepressants for years and will be for the rest of my life. I’ve tried many times to find non-pharmaceutical answers to my depression but have failed.)


My good friend and cartoonist colleague, Dan McConnell sent me an idea of a 2B/not 2B T-shirt so I concocted this scenario to turn it into a cartoon. I like the result and hope some of you do, as well. I was attracted to melodrama, death, and suffering when I was a teen, too, and always thought it was just a normal stage, but perhaps it was the beginnings of my biological depression. (By the way, I’m fine now and am usually quite happy. :o) See?)





My last cartoon this week is an attempt to explain why birds poop on cars. It’s not the most highbrow cartoon I’ve ever drawn but it gave me a smile.


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Komic Kavalcade

Bizarro is brought to you today by Sweet Fashion.

I don’t know if there is an “official” name for this trick of combining names that match front-to-back or whatever, but I call it a “name train.” I’ve always thought they were fun so here’s one I hadn’t heard before. If you’re wondering who any of these people are, they can be found on Wikipedia. For you younger readers, Gore Vidal is the guy in the middle. (Who names their baby “Gore,” and why?)


Our French painter (we know he is French because he has a big nose, a funny mustache, and a beret, in spite of his absurd lack of a cigarette) is an amusing little visual gag the likes of which one might have found in MAD Magazine back in the day. I, too, have a big nose and a funny mustache, but I never wear a beret. So I am not French.




The thing I enjoyed most about drawing the Graffiti Nerds cartoon was thinking up the graffiti. This gag is actually based on old-school graffiti, which virtually always had an angry message of some sort. Nowadays, graffitizers, or “taggers,” as they are called, only write their name. I must admit that the point of this “tagging” escapes me. Messages or drawings I understand, but just painting a name on everything seems a little unambitious.When I see a name numerous times in my neighborhood all I really know about this person is that he has a lot of free time.