Friday, June 19, 2026

And that's enough of that

Well, that was a receptacle of mirth, but it's time to draw the Monkey Fluids 20th Anniversary Reunion Tour/Last Desperate Gasp to an end. I said I had three or four months worth of new comics four and a half months ago, so I figure that's not a bad run for a quick hit of nostalgia bait.

Thanks for the views - time to end this the only way it was ever going to end:

The sad fact is that after twenty years of this, it’s all Timmy knows anymore. He’d pray for death, if he still remembered what those words mean.
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Thursday, June 18, 2026

Apres moi le fart joke

“IBS playing up, Doris? That was a particularly nasty one. No use trying to wave it away—it’s already stripped the detail off that wall!”
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Tuesday, June 16, 2026

Needlessly vulgar

“You said we were going to play Enter Sandman, but I don’t see any instruments out here.” “Quiet, Sandman.”
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Thursday, June 11, 2026

Advice sought

“OK, take this down: Dear Agony Aunt, I (20F) live in an uncaring universe (13,700,000,000NB) that’s indifferent to my dreams, desires and very existence as it spirals towards its inevitable heat death. Should we try anal?”
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Tuesday, June 09, 2026

This comic's gone to the nope, nope I can't do it

“Sorry, good harlot, but your sexual services will find no custom here.” “No, I’m not a—” “AWAY, WOMAN! Vex me not with your mercantile blowjobbery!” “You just want me to leave so you can fuck that dog.” “Impudence! My relationship with Huggles concerns you not! Also, yes.”
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Thursday, June 04, 2026

Who you gonna call? The! Vatican!

“BACK TO THE DARKNESS, ABOMINATION! I ABJURE THEE!” As the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man sank into the ground for good, Marjorie marvelled at how much easier a good old-fashioned exorcism was than all that silly business with positron colliders and proton packs.
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Tuesday, June 02, 2026

Gracie made a good Daenerys, though

“A crown for a king!” The Little Dorking Amateur Dramatic Society’s production of Game of Thrones Season 1 received mixed reviews, but one thing was certain: having a chimp play Khal Drogo was SUPER racist.
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Thursday, May 28, 2026

Drug use is big and clever

“I tell you, these little cakes are my heroin!” “I thought heroin was your heroin?” “No—heroin is my mescaline, mescaline is my ketamine and ketamine is Bertie’s embalming fluid.” “My what?” “Nothing, Bertie. Hush now.”
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Tuesday, May 26, 2026

Higgins vs the Army of Darkness

“Yep—as a fucking doornail. ‘Cannot kill what does not live’ my arse.” Judith brought in a second serving of holy water tea, but there was no need—Higgins’ plan had worked perfectly, and Linda the Littlest Lich Queen was no more.
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Thursday, May 21, 2026

Do do do, do do-do doo

“It’s amazing—when I put these glasses on, I can see secret messages in billboards and on TV!” “Doreen, you’re not wearing glasses.” “Well I’ll be. Schizophrenia, you sly mix—you’ve got me again!” All laugh; freeze frame; “Semi-Charmed Life” by Third Eye Blind plays over end credits
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Tuesday, May 19, 2026

What's behind the pornography door?

“Nope, just mountains of pornography in this one as well.” “Don’t worry—we’ll find Daddy’s insulin soon enough, I’m sure.” “Yes, it’ll be fine. He’s even stopped making those noises now.”
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Thursday, May 14, 2026

Not gonna lie, this one got away from me

A voice came from the other side of the room: “Ah, Rebecca—you’re awake. I expect you have many questions, so let me see if I can answer some of them. First of all, no, this is not a sex thing. It’s not. I’m a kidnapper; I’ve kidnapped you for ransom, not for sex reasons. Because this isn’t a sex thing. Yes, you are tied to a bed, and yes, beds are where sex occurs, but it’s just because I don’t want you to get away and the bed was the most convenient item of furniture to restrain you on. Similarly, while you are gagged, this is again for kidnapping reasons—preventing you from crying out and alerting people to your location—not for any sort of choking, asphyxiation fetish purposes. Perish the thought. “If you need the toilet at any stage, I’ll escort you to the bathroom—I don’t want you soiling the bed clothes. And if I did, it wouldn’t be some sort of sex thing, it’d be because I’m a callous kidnapper who cares not for your comfort. Not a sex thing. If I hear afterwards that people are saying this was a sex thing, I’ll know it’s because you lied to them and I’ll be very disappointed, because I feel I’ve been very clear on how much of a sex thing this isn’t. “Now, relax and try not to strain yourself—I’ll just be over here making a ransom note out of letters I’ve cut from a newspaper with a pair of plastic scissors. The plastic scissors are a sex thing.”
If you're reading this on a phone, good luck I guess.
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