#Bob Clarke

[usualgangofidiots]

MAD Artists' Response to an Article (MAD #178, October 1975)

Artists: the Usual Gang of Idiots

[oldshowbiz]

The amount of marijuana and LSD references published in Mad Magazine in the 1960s and 70s is rather remarkable.

[colonel-mira]

art by Bob Clarke

and this is my edit because I wanted to finish it

[harveybee]

They’re horrid. I love them dearly

[wolfgang1097]

I swear, Black Spy is a prankster...

Since today for me was basically a do-nothing-day, I may as well just present y'all two of my favorite Spy vs. Spy comics from Bob Clarke's era out of sheer boredom because, I dunno, I'm crazy.

Here:

This is another one of those comics that gives me a feeling Black is quite a bit of a smart-alecky prankster. I LOL'ed at him basically creating the decoy, not to mention that he straight up strips down to his underwear here to pull the prank on (preassumably) White successfully, just like he previously did in one of the paperback comics from the early-70s (particularly in Operation: Safe Conduct, which was later made into an animated skit for MADtv towards the end of the first season about 23 or 24 years later).

Here's the second one from the same era that really splits my sides, which if I had to guess was probably released the same year as the first one, but this one was originally written by Prohias instead of Edwing, many years before Clarke eventually illustrated the actual comic as you see here:

Of course, Black pulls a prank on White once again, but this time not only exploits White's vanity (kind of) and embarrasses him the second his (White's) underpants are exposed (LOL; gotta love the blush poor White has as he attempts to pull his trousers back up in the second to last panel), but also straight up delivers a painful bash over White's head while his (White's) trousers were still down.

Anyhow, there are images of the original sketches of the second comic that was illustrated by Prohias on the internet, but I have no idea how old the original sketches are. Though I'm thinking about saving that for a different day.

For both comics, I gotta say "nice underpants, you two, LOL!"

I do not claim ownership of any content. Spy vs. Spy belongs to the late Antonio Prohias. Both comics were illustrated by Bob Clarke. The first one was written by the late Duck Edwing. The second comic was written by Antonio Prohias.

[cryptocollectibles]

Mad Super Special #79 (February 1992) by EC

Written and drawn by the usual gang of idiots, cover by Norman Mingo.

[texasthrillbilly]

[tomoleary]

Bob Clarke - MAD Magazine "America Measures Alone" Original Art Illustration (undated)

[wolfgang1097]

I will admit that as much as I really enjoy Prohias' era of the comics as well as Manak's, I seem to probably be one of the few people who seem to like Bob Clarke's era of the comics. His illustrations of the spies basically come in third place, personally. I wish he was a little more detailed with the illustrations, but they're still pretty decent.

Anyhow, LOL at the top image of Black and White fighting over whatever that is supposed to be.

Original Spy vs. Spy strips by Bob Clarke from Mad magazine, ~1988-1993. 

[vintrage]

mother of dragons but teenager posture

[oldshowbiz]

The number of LSD and marijuana references classic Mad Magazine got away with was incredible.

[wolfgang1097]

I will admit that I find the first panel in this comic rather questionable.

Hey Black, question: why the frick are you operating a tank in the middle of a public park? Seriously dude, White is RIGHT THERE. So of course he likely heard your freak'n tank. So no wonder you failed miserably, duh.

Yes, I am aware that White had more than likely set up his trap ahead of time. Just the idea of Black operating a tank in the middle of a public park, and with White right there no less, was so questionable that it was something I had to get off my chest.

I do not claim ownership of any copyrighted content. Spy vs. Spy belongs to the defunct MAD Magazine and Antonio Prohias. This comic was done was Bob Clarke and probably written by Don "Duck" Edwing (I could be wrong though as this was one of Clarke's earliest Spy vs. Spy comics from his era).

[pop-sesivo]

La cubierta de la revista MAD de septiembre de 1982 que parodiaba a la revista Time.

Vintage Magazine - Mad Magazine #233

Pencils: Bob Clarke Inks: Bob Clarke Colors: Bob Clarke EC (Sept1982)

[cryptocollectibles]

Mad #122 (October 1968) by EC

Written and drawn by the usual gang of idiots, cover by Mort Drucker.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

Could I request a smut with Bellamy Blake? Like him and the reader are trying to get a quickie in before everyone comes back and he tries to make the reader cum one more time? :) if u can ofc!

close call | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season three — you and bellamy take advantage of a moment alone in the rover on a scouting expedition. time is against you when bellamy makes one final request before everyone returns.

pairing: bellamy blake x reader

warnings: smut, almost caught, penetration (p in v), oral (fem receiving), quickie, multiple orgasms, cowgirl, idk whether part of this is considered dub-con or not but I’ll still add it just in case

notes: the ending is sort of abrupt but anyways—

word count: 1.8k

The rover was bouncing so vigorously; it was a wonder the axles hadn’t broken under pressure.

“Oh my—fuck! Oh my god!”

It had started off innocent. Two people had to stay behind to guard the rover as a group scouted the forest terrain for new foraging and hunting grounds for Arkadia. Bellamy had offered to stay behind along with you. At first, you both obeyed the instructions to watch over the rover. But, damn, he looked so goodin his tan t-shirt and black cargo pants, you just couldn’t restrain yourself.

First came the flirting, then the wandering hands, and then suddenly you were inside the rover, on the floor in the back, with Bellamy inside you.

Your breasts recoiled up and down, cleavage exposed from the low neckline of your tight tank top as you bounced on Bellamy’s lap, his cock sliding up into you with each drop of your hips. His face was buried between your breasts, sucking harsh kisses into your skin. Fuck, you should have told him to stop; people would see the marks.

But you couldn’t. Especially when he lowered to your sensitive peaked nipple and bit it softly through the material of your shirt.

“Ah, fuck!” you rasped, skin prickling with goosebumps.

Fingers tangled in his dark wavy locks, you guided him back up to your level, frantically catching his lips in a wanton kiss. Your tongues moved together with a hunger of their own, strings of saliva keeping you attached whenever you parted for a sliver of breath.

You sank down fully onto his pelvis and engulfed his entire pulsating length before grinding your hips back and forth at an almost Olympic-level speed, feeling his cock repeatedly curve into your throbbing walls. Something between a whine and a groan of the words “fucking christ” was mumbled against your lips by Bellamy.

His hands held you down by the hips as he began snapping his own hips upward, skin-on-skin sounding as his pelvis slapped against your ass. You grappled onto his broad shoulders as your head fell back with a filthy high-pitched moan which, thankfully, was confined to the rover’s interior.

“So fucking good, princess,” Bellamy breathlessly praised between mind-devastating thrusts. “So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Good.”

His fingers dug harshly into your skin, blunt nails surely creating red crescent indentations in your soft skin. You would wear them like a trophy. He forced your hips down and trapped your body on his cock as his head fell back against the mesh panel wall, soft tip spurting thick white come deep inside your belly. His scrunched brows twitched with release; lips were parted as his shallow breaths gave way to deep sex-drunken moans.

The warm white liquid filled you up, leaking prettily down Bellamy’s thick penetrating length. You were so full of his seed and ever-hard cock that all your body could do in response was orgasm, the heat spreading from your belly and pervading your entire nervous system.

All control was lost. You trembled from head to toe, essentially vibrating on his cock which was still prodding against your cervix. Strangled gasps fell from your lips, your forehead falling against Bellamy’s who had finally managed to regain his composure and was hypnotically watching you work through your own high.

Finally, the both of you reached a state of tranquillity, holding each other closely, panting and inhaling one another’s intoxicating breaths. It was a good thing too—that you finished so quickly.

“The other’s will be back soon,” Bellamy whispered, finishing your thoughts.

You nodded. He pulled your hips forward again and you both made some quiet noise of pleasure, eyes glued on one another and simmering with atmospheric desire. For about ten seconds, you stayed like this—motionless, panting, staring.

And then Bellamy was flipping you over onto the car floor.

He hovered above you, brown eyes pooling with sin, dark strands of hair partially obscuring his vision. You simply looked up at him, wide-eyed and speechless, and obviously, he found your shock amusing, evident from the subtle smirk on his lips.

“Want you to come again before they get back.” He leaned down to leave a hot kiss on your neck, lips tickling your skin as he murmured, “Think you can do that for me?”

You blinked, dumbfounded. “What?”

And then he was lowering himself down to your hips and hooking his arms around your thighs. His question wasn’t really demanding an answer—this notion was crystal clear as he abruptly buried his face between your legs and began eating you out like there was no guarantee tomorrow would come.

“Bell!” you cried with a gasped squeak, your back arching off the floor and eyes squeezing shut from overstimulation. “Wait, please, it’s—it’s too mu—” You cut yourself off with a sharp moan and encased his head with your thighs as his lips suctioned around your clit. “Shit! Don’t stop!”

The plea in your voice was useless. Of course he wasn’t going to stop. Not until your thighs were nearly crushing his skull as your taste coated his tongue, dribbled down his chin, and dripped from your pussy in a pretty, perfect glistening mess.

You rose to your elbows, hand reaching down to delve your fingers between his soft wavy locks, alternating between pushing him deeper into your pussy and tugging his hair to coax a groan from his lips which vibrated against your already throbbing clit.

The sounds you made could barely be considered moans, but rather stuttering cries—cries for more, cries to encourage him to keep doing that heavenly thing he was doing with his tongue.

“Right there,” you gasped.

He nodded, humming in compliance. Anything for you; anything to get you to come undone from his manipulation. His biceps flexed as he dragged you closer, hands splayed across your tensed stomach, rubbing and massaging the soft skin.

Tongue wide and flat, he licked an agonisingly slow stripe from hole to clit, beginning to flick his tongue side-to-side once he reached your swollen sensitive nub. God, he had your heart pounding and it felt so exhilarating. The pulsing had dropped into your stomach, each rapid beat building the tension that was tightening your gut.

Your hips rolled mindlessly against his tongue, using him like your own personal sex toy. His eyes were closed, literally drinkingin the fact that he was lapping between your thighs. He enjoyed giving pleasure just as much as you did receiving which made the moment so much more hotter.

Over the sound of your whining and panting, you could hear the distant conversations of people returning. Returning to the rover that Bellamy was currently eating you out in. Fuck.

“Bell.”

“Mm.”

He just kept going. Part of you wanted to ignore the approaching group and continue letting him bring you to your peak, but the other part recognised the embarrassment of potentially being caught in such an… indecent position.

“Bellamy,”you gritted.

The authority in your tone managed to tear him away from your pussy (and made his cock twitch with a drop of come).

He looked up at you through messy strands of hair. “Come for me one more time, princess,” he urged, voice low and husky. “Then I’ll stop.”

His hand kneaded the side of your waist, gaze on yours as he awaited your response. His mouth and chin sheened with your slick—a pretty, perfect glistening mess. How could you deny him when he looked like that? When he was begging to worship your body and set your nerves alight?

The flames licking at your insides began to suffocate, orgasm receding slowly into non-existence. It was all you could do to nod your head. “Make me come.” Your voice was heavy with desperation. “Please.”

Within seconds, he obliged, large veiny hands curling around the base of your thighs and diving back in. If you thought he was quick before, you were in a whole other ballpark when his mouth returned to your clit. Your fluttering eyes rolled back as his head swiftly shook from side to side, the tip of his tongue pressing hard against your sensitive nub.

An orgasm was rocketing inside you, so fast approaching that you felt entirely unprepared for its arrival. The voices outside in the forest were getting closer and so were you. So close you felt like you could reach out and touch the powerful feeling inside your gut. Technically, you could.

Your hands fisted in Bellamy’s hair, fumbling for any sort of tether to the ground because you were certain if you let go, you would shoot off into oblivion. He repeatedly sucked on your clit, swirled tight circles, devoured you like this was his last meal on death row, and then repeated the process.

“Good girl,” Bellamy mumbled into your pussy. “Almost there.”

Eyes squeezed shut, you writhed beneath his hold, hips jerking against your mouth. Your nipples ached with hardness. Your eyes overflowed with hot tears, streaming down the sides of your face. Your whines had turned to borderline screams, begging him “Don’t stop!” and a mixture of senseless profanities.

Your quivering thighs—with the last of their strength—threatened to crush his head as you squeezed around him, finally feeling the white flames inside you burst into a devastating explosion.

“Fuck!”

***********

Side-by-side, you and Bellamy stood outside the rover, fully dressed and watching as the scouting group returned from their minor expedition. Bellamy’s hand, which was resting on your hip, wandered to your ass and softly kneaded it in his palm, causing your body to tense in fear of being seen.

He leaned down far enough for you to catch his quiet words. “Don’t worry, princess,” he said. “I’m the only one who knows what you just did on the floor of that rover.”

Your jaw clenched, eyes remaining on the approaching group. “I’m the only one who knows you begged to make me come on the floor of that rover.”

His response was a quiet chuckle, his hand moving to your back to rub it affectionately. Just before the others reached hearing distance, he added, “And I’d gladly do it again.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, forming a timid smile on your lips.

Raven was the first person you made eye contact with. She subtly gestured to your pants, wearing a semi-proud grin as she nodded in approval. A horrid blush flooded your cheeks and you looked down to see your flier was completely undone. Well… shit.

“Anything happen while we were gone?” Monty asked, carrying a variety of flora samples.

You side-eyed Bellamy, witnessing the slightest smirk quirk on his lips.

He was quick to respond, sounding casual enough to avoid suspicion. “Nothing too interesting.”

You nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, his arm was discretely supporting your weight as your legs were still violently trembling.

[dushku]

HALLOWEEN MARATHON 2024 ↳ day 9 🎃 BLACK CHRISTMAS (1974) | dir. bob clark