Alison Rosen Is Your New Best Friend

If I drew cartoons for the New Yorker

If I drew cartoons for The New Yorker and I was doing one around the time MAD magazine launched (or in its heyday) I would do one of a mouse made to look like ALfred E. Newman and it would say “What, me scurry?” If this also happened to coincide with a particularly bad rodent problem in the city, that would be ideal.

Uh-oh, I have the puns

If I drew cartoons for The New Yorker, not only would I do these, but I would draw one of a hunk of chedder telling an obscene joke and the caption would be “Blue Cheese.” I can’t decide whether it should be a very animated wheel of cheese or if it should be a hunk of cheese dressed up like Andrew Dice Clay standing on a stage in front of a brick wall doing dirty standup. As if the cheese is working blue.

I guess I’ll leave that up to the cartoonists.

If I drew cartoons for The New Yorker…

I would draw one of two pieces of clothing on a clothesline. One would be somehow chatting up the other and would be saying, “What do you say we take this off-line?”

But that wouldn’t be the end of my clothesline cartoon oeuvre. On the contrary, it’d be just the beginning!

I’d also draw one of some kind of clearly inebriated garment on a clothesline. You know, like a drunk jacket, let’s say. Or a wasted t-shirt. Or a pair of blotto bloomers. Or a three sheets to the wind shift dress. Or hammered hemp skirt. Or a borracho sombrero. Or some knackered knickers! Maybe not the sombrero! And the person hanging this drunk garment on the clothesline would be saying “you need to dry out.”

But see, this is why I don’t draw cartoons for The New Yorker.

Bill Schulz could draw cartoons for The New Yorker if they needed doodles of two pigs in the throes of non-consensual lovemaking. It’s his signature doodle and you won’t find a better representation of said scene on the Eastern Seaboard.