If you want the official New Yorker cartoon contest, go here. And stop wasting my time.
“Yes, I am a stripper. But I’m a very nice stripper.”
“How can you eat? Well, why don’t you just leave that to me.”
“Okay, this is the part where I question you intensively about your toilet training.”
“I could listen to Ferrante and Teicher all night, couldn’t you? I’m guessing the answer to that question is going to be yes.”
“‘Untamable,’ huh? It’s starting to look like that isn’t true.”
“You know, Brad, I think I’m enjoying this even more than I did with my first husband.”
“Let’s establish a few ground rules, shall we? First of all, I’m ‘Esperanza” and you’re ‘Rudolpho.’ That’s very important.”
“Okay, you feel like a hogtied varmint. But you’re a hogtied varmint who’s about to taste the best damn pinot noir of his life.”
“If I’ve done this to your body, just think what I’m going to do to your mind.”
“Let’s just skip the long face, shall we? Those ropes could be a lot tighter.”
