You want me to hang my coat where?!

Well, I guess I can think of a worse place...

Failed US Army prototype

He wants YOU. I'm not sure what for, but it can't be good.

Mine is an evil laugh.

I don't want to know what this thing is thinking about. I really don't.

C-L-O-DUBYA-N

Is it just me, or does this remind anyone else of a certain former president?

Taken from a pamphlet from the 1950s.

I used up all my words in the header. That's literally everything I know about this image. It's from one of those mini-magazine thingies from the 50s. The tiny booklet things. What the hell are they called. And why did ink only seem to come in three colors then? Black, green and that weird shade of orange. Never understood it.

Not particularly safe for work.

Or, really, for life.

...like I need a hole in the head.

I keep waiting for horrible-looking things to start crawling out of it.

Yet another snack ruined.

Marmalade out of a clown's head, cookies out of a clown's chest, candy out of a clown's crotch, and for the glorious finale, tea out of a clown's ass.

Theme party, anyone?

I think the tall one is their leader.

I'd prefer not to think about what he's doing to that little clown.

Worse than marmalade out of a clown's head.

Candy out of a clown's crotch.

Answer: a clown with a massive spiky erection

Question: what's worse than a clown?



(For those of you not in the know, it's meant to be a cactus planter. And "God's little lamb" is very naughty indeed.)

The perfect diet aid.

I know this makes me want to never eat another cookie for as long as I live.

Namaste.

I wish I knew where this particular Ronald hailed from. Part of that is idle curiosity. The other part is wanting to make sure I never, ever go there.

It's hip to be square.

However, it's never hip to be a clown.