A former coworker had a daily calendar showcasing 365 New Yorker cartoons. This meant that every day I saw a New Yorker cartoon, which meant that every day I got pissed off. I despised these comics; they were often pretentious (I suppose that could’ve been expected, being in The New Yorker) but worse, they offended me by being so profoundly unfunny.
To rectify the situation—and because I was bored—my coworker saved me the comics to hack to pieces and Frankenstein all the terrible bits together and improve upon the work. Even when the results sucked, they were still less sucky thanks to sheer wackiness. And that’s what The New Yorker gets for failing to amuse me. Don’t mess.
Is it obvious yet that I didn’t care for these?
Need more? My friend Ben pointed me in the direction of The Monkeys You Ordered, a collection of New Yorker comics that are made better by removing their captions and stating the bleeding obvious. Enjoy!