COPS : Babes on Patrol

      This unfinished 2 and a third pages is the only dated 'toon from 1994.

 I really like this layout with a diminished title block off-center in the body of the page.  Beer bottles are everywhere.  Once you fill up the garbage can, there's no where else to put them. 

We had librarian fetish earlier, so this time it's cop fetish.

I don't know if I could sleep through gun fire so close to my head.  But Fred is a marvel to behold.

And really, the only thing that Peckerhead has going for him is a benevolent creator.

 

And that's that.  Doing this I've noticed a pattern:  when it comes time to draw the sex scene, I quit, with the exception of some.

There is no doubt that poor Peckerhead would be subjected to humiliating sexual harassment from grossly misconductive female law enforcement officers.  Shit, they might be suspended without pay for a couple of hours.

1995

'Though this one is not dated, I know it comes screaming at us from 1995.

The paper matches the paper from other dated sources, of which there aren't very many for this year.

Did someone piss on the wall?

Very likely.

But not much.

At Mikey's Pizza and Pussy Parlor

In fact, all the 'toons for this year where done in lovely Grande Centre, Alberta Canada near Cold Lake.

 

The Canucks do things a bit different with their strippers.  The girls do a tour and come your place of business if you are interested in hosting them.  "Mikey's Pizza" was just such a place.  "This is like Chuck E. Cheese, but just for Daddy, kids."

There were no garters to slip paper money into.  No.  You tossed them.  And the Canadian $1 "gooney" coin is not a small chunk of metal.

And no, there were no real teddy bears in the cordoned off area.  And yes that is a portrayal of a real stripper.  And no, the nipples are not exaggerated for effect.

Well, maybe a little. They were quite lengthy.

What the well endowed exotic entertainer is recounting is an actual event, historically documented in this prestigious 'toon.

Of course, Fred and Peckerhead wasn't really there.  They are fictitious characters. haha

And I wasn't talking to the strippers either.  But man, it wouldn't have bothered me if I had.

Kaotic Shithole

Club Kaos.

Packed nightly with young, very young—not just barely legal, but barely legal to drive—girls.

I never took the time to complete the inking.  I need a staff.  I do like the crafty way I split the 'toon in half by what Fred is thinking and by what Peckerhead is saying and using the table to mark the invisible border of the panels.  It looks open, but there is that divide.

I know.  Go ahead and say it. I'm a fuckin' genius.

Nancy . . . stripper?

1996

This little story was done in while TDY to Eglin AFB.  There are a few more 'toons from this year.

Nancy was never figured in to be a stripper.  This is one of those rare moments when she is.

  
     Hey look!  That's me at the end of the stage in the bandanna.  You know what's cool.  I can always see Nancy naked.  Any time I want. hehe

This 'toon is revisiting the theme that Nancy wants to smash guts with ol' Peckerhead, gut he ain't having nuthin to do with that jazz.

I like the bit about the quarters up the ass.  That made me chuckle when writing it. 

There may have been a third, partially completed page, but it's gone.  I don't even know where this story was going.

The New Neighbor Thing that Happened

Oh yeah, "The New Neighbor Thing That Happened."  Or kinda became a nonevent like the Y2K bug.

 

 

Sometimes there a bookcase in the corner by the door, sometimes not.  The coffee table is moved to the side against the wall least anyone fall over it moshing to—of all things—The Nuge's "Wango Tango", as if it's a mosh-to tune.  It's a good tune none-the-least or it wouldn't be included.

No.  No one should be knocking.  Why the hell would they?

So anyway . . .

  

. . . it's about this stripper that moves into the apartment complex.

A stripper?  Really Paul?  WHY?!?!?  What is it with you and strippers?

Uh, nothing.

This is the rough draft that I had every fuckin' intention of inking and cleaning up. Swear to God.

Must have been distracted by the onset of marital problems. They way I cartooned women, I can't say that I'm too surprised. "Can't keep it down."  I should be slapped in the face—with a big fat tit.

  

And so she slams the door and fucks up his hat so he turns up the stereo and she meets the old lady who is deaf and doesn't know what she is asking and it's all so effin' hopeless.

What would have happened next if my subconscious wasn't guilt tripping me about sexually objectifying hotties in cartoons and making most all of them strippers was that FnP would go to the strip club and she would be dancing drum roll cymbal crash I bet you didn't see that one coming.

There was another variation of this theme done in '93.  I omitted it because this one looks better and has more story.