One of the disturbing things about being a cartoonist is you never really stop being on the lookout for gags.
Often my wife and I will be discussing our days and she’ll notice I’m drifting off into what she calls “cartoon land.” What’s happened is she’s said something that triggered my joke reflex (not to be confused with joke reflux, which I’m glad to say there’s now medication for), and I’m working out the joke.
I’m sure it’s gotta be annoying, but, God love ‘er, she puts up with it.
Anyway, the other day I was talking with someone about a recent death. They said that the doctor had given the person three months to live.
And my mind was off…
Doctor holding shotgun to patient – “I said you had three months to live, and, by God, I meant it.”
Kinda macabre, and I feel weird about the circumstances in which it came about, but I like the gag.
Welcome to the inside of my weird little noggin.