Froggy Went A-Bloggin’ — Uh huh (Olde Folk Tale or Lie?)

Once again, you’ve been misled by a headline. This entry has little or nothing to do with blogging frogs. I kinda wish it did, but it doesn’t. Sometimes I just find it easier to make up some nonsense for the title and go from there. I never said I was going to strain myself with this blog, a fact that should be obvious ny now.

Another cheap gimmick? Answering reader’s E-mails…

Dear Philbert,

Your blog, although rarely funny, was always at least mildly amusing. Lately you seem consumed with naughty headlines and suggestive produce. If this keeps up I may have to take my business elsewhere.

Signed,

Cheated in Chernobyl

Dear Cheated,

I’ll happily refund your money if you can produce a receipt that proves you’ve read at least one blog entry in the past 30 days. The blog entry must also be returned in its original packaging. My vendor is based in Calcutta and these are his rules, not mine, sahib.

Dear Philbert,

Whatever happened to Yux Fritter and Scabby Crackers? They were two of my favorite cowpokers.

Russell The Rustler

Dear Rusty,

My wife hates Yux Fritter and makes that funny scrunched up nose face whenever she runs across a sketch of America’s Least Known Comic Strip Heroes. I told her some day her face would get stuck like that and she’d wish she had been nicer about Yux and Scabby. I expect to regain use of my left arm and both knees in about three weeks.

That’s all for now. Keep an eye on this space for future developments that may develop or are possibly developing.

Hugs & Fishes,

Your Humble ‘Toonist

Philbert For Hire or “Hey, Buddy, wanna buy some cartoons?”

Yes, dear Blogaphiliacs, it has come to this. I must prostrate myself on the floor of the marketplace and grovel for scraps like a common…ugh…cartoonist. The taste lies bitter upon my tongue as I spake these words (Note: That’s not a typo, I was being all, you know, dramatic…like Shakespeare… he used “spake” a lot.)

The crux of the matter is, I’m accepting commissions (jobs, too!) Just drop me an e-mail if you want to dress up that brochure or give that newsletter some pizazz. Books, magazines, ads, whatever… I’m here for you.

pfountain@sbcglobal.net

530.209.4356

Carnal Corn and Vegetable Lust Revealed!

You know I’ve tried taking the high road with this blog but apparently I’m not suited for the rarified air of respectability. No, my lungs crave the breath of the gutter and that’s where we’re going today. The gutter, or more precisely, the corn row and the cabbage patch. Where you can get real dirty.

And yes, this is part of our continuing effort here at Philbertosophy to drive up our numbers by using the ol’ tried and true methods of sexy headlines and innuendo to sell our particular brand of soap. Speaking of which, you may want to wash your hands after you’re through with today’s entry. I know I will.

The Ballad of “L’il Smokey”

As he clings to life at a Rancho Cordova animal clinic, we stand watch at the little brown bear’s bedside. Plucked from the flames by brave firefighters, the orphaned cub as come to symbolize the plight of those affected by the hundreds of California blazes.

Now, you folks know by now that all the “tasteless” cartoons I turn in at work that are summarily rejected end up on this blog. I just want you to hurt like I do.

The above scene is based on several etchings from the period depicting Abraham Lincoln’s final hours. It’s supposed to be funny, so all of you folks who believe bears stepped right out of a Disney attraction, I’m sorry to burst your bubble.

The Picnic

H

e sat at his table and waited, plastic gingham tablecloth whipping at the corners. He had come to believe that if it weren’t for sweet-voiced young women in white and yellow summer dresses, old men would perish long before their days were truly done.

      They came from behind a stand of rustling trees carrying platters piled high with fried chicken, corn on the cob, and potato salad. A fragrant hand placed a paper plate in front of him, another, plastic utensils. The soft hair briefly touching his cheek before it was whisked away to tend to others.

A moment passed, the rain began to fall heavily on their banquet. Everyone ran to the shelter of the trees or huddled on the stage of a white gazebo. He sat still.

Father! They all cried to him, come, get out of the rain! You’ll catch your death!

If not, he thought, death will surely catch me. He watched the punch in the pitcher turn from ruby red to pink. He stood and walked deliberately toward the trees. The pretty girls waving to him.

Once Again, It’s Proven. Smut Sells.

Hey Bloggies! Well, it’s true. If you give good headline you get more visits. Using the title “Men! Add Inches! Offer For Members Only” garnered a 53% increase in page views over the previous day. In fairness, it might not mean that it was the smut factor getting all the attention. It could conceivably be that there are quite a few guys out there desperate enough to visit Philbertosophy in hopes of enlarging stuff. To those poor, inadequate chaps I say, “tuff titties”. Hey, that gives me an idea for a headline!

Now, on to more important things…

Men! Add Inches! Offer For Members Only!

 

Hey there, Blogbuddies! I’m telling you, this headline writing is a breeze. Made you look, didn’t it?

*Note to the more refined readers directed to this post from another website. We here at Philbertosophy are conducting an experiment to see if spicy headlines drive traffic to the blog. So far, numbers indicate, heck yes, they do!

The following blog entry contains no special offers for creams, pills or anything made of latex and is safe for general viewing. Thank you.

 

Of A Feather

 

W

hap! Another bird hit the large bay window and fell into the shrubs below. He wondered if they saw little birdies circling their heads or if they were restricted to seeing only stars. Hmmm.

 

He didn’t know what kind of birds they were, Kamikazes he guessed, but that was the third one this morning.