Animation!

Bump in the Night was my absolute favorite show when I was very young. It was quirky, weird, and creative in all the right ways, filled with stop-motion monsters living under the bed. Since the main character was named Mr. Bumpy, I always just called the show that—and honestly, I still think of it as Mr. Bumpy to this day.

Moo Mesa wasn’t necessarily my favorite, but I definitely liked it and remember watching it during Saturday Morning Cartoons, complete with rabbit-ear antennae on an old TV way back when. It had that classic 90s animated action-comedy vibe, and honestly, it’s pretty fitting for the whole furry vibe. I don’t have this one archived yet, but I will and it’s a nostalgic memory for sure.

Mighty Max was one of those shows every kid on the block watched. It had just the right blend of sci-fi, horror themes, and world-hopping adventure to keep each episode exciting and memorable. Whether it was ancient curses, monsters, or dark alternate dimensions, it never felt boring. And honestly, for a show designed to sell toys, it holds up surprisingly well on a rewatch—there’s real atmosphere and tension packed in with the action. Definitely one of the cooler tie-in cartoons of the '90s.

Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog is the classic TV cartoon tie-in of the Sonic franchise—wacky, zany, and very much a product of its time. I’ll admit, I wish I had been a SEGA kid growing up, but most of my childhood was firmly planted in Nintendo territory. That said, I’ve grown to love the Genesis, Saturn, and especially the Dreamcast… but I digress. This show, with Sonic voiced by none other than Urkel (Jaleel White), was full of slapstick and weird writing choices. Like the time Tails built a flying machine, and when Sonic asked how it worked, Tails just said, “I don’t know.” You built it, dude! Still, it’s charming in that so-bad-it’s-good way and packed full of nostalgic weirdness.

Johnny Quest is an action-packed animated series that followed young adventurer Jonny, his scientist dad Dr. Benton Quest, bodyguard Race Bannon, friend Hadji, and dog Bandit as they globe-trotted through dangerous missions. It had a surprisingly serious tone for a cartoon of its time, with sci-fi gadgets, monsters, and Cold War-style intrigue. It felt like James Bond for kids—and honestly, it still holds up as a stylish, pulpy adventure series.

Doug was one of my favorite cartoons growing up, and I still think it holds a special place in the hearts of most '90s kids. It followed the everyday life (and wild imagination) of Doug Funnie as he navigated school, friendships, crushes, and growing up. I even liked it when Disney picked it up and continued the series—yeah, the tone changed a bit, but I was still into it. Whether it was Quailman daydreams or Skeeter’s honk honk, it was one of those shows that just stuck with you.

SPUUUNKYYYY!!!! Rocko's Modern Life is still one of my all-time favorite shows—honestly, even more than Doug. It's one of those rare cartoons that feels totally timeless: the humor, the social commentary, the weirdness... it all holds up ridiculously well. I’ve always wished it had more seasons, because the episodes we did get were such a perfect mix of absurdity and heart. "Wooooow... you are an idiot." still makes me crack up.

KaBlam! was one of those wonderfully weird shows that felt like a chaotic toybox brought to life—and I loved it for that. My favorite part, hands-down, was Action League Now! Something about watching those janky action figures get flung across rooms in slapstick chaos never stopped being hilarious. Prometheus and Bob was another highlight—those primitive alien-encounter sketches were pure gold. Life with Loopy was... okay. Not my favorite segment, but still part of the charm. Overall, KaBlam! was like the experimental art-house of Nickelodeon, and it totally ruled.

Hey Arnold! was one of those shows that felt different in the best way—more mellow, more thoughtful, and packed with heart. It had this cozy, urban charm that made the characters and city feel real, even when the plots were a bit wild. I still remember seeing a teaser preview for the show before a movie in theaters back in the day, and getting excited for it before it even aired. Arnold’s football head, Gerald’s storytelling, Helga’s secret love letters—it all stuck with me. Definitely one of the more memorable cartoons from that era.

Recess was one of those shows that nailed the feeling of being a kid. The schoolyard felt like its own little world, with cliques, unwritten rules, and adventures packed into every break. T.J., Spinelli, Gus, Mikey, Vince, and Gretchen were basically a playground dream team. I remember seeing Recess: School's Out in theaters when it came out—it felt like such a big deal at the time, like our favorite show had graduated to the big screen. Still love how it captured the spirit of childhood rebellion and friendship so well.

Dexter’s Laboratory was pure chaotic genius—literally. The show followed Dexter, a pint-sized boy genius with a secret, sprawling lab hidden behind a bookcase. He was always coming up with wild inventions, only for his hyperactive sister Dee Dee to barge in and wreck everything with cartoonish glee. It had that perfect blend of sci-fi, slapstick, and absurdity, with memorable side segments like Dial M for Monkey and The Justice Friends. Honestly, it was one of the smartest dumb shows on TV—and I mean that in the best way possible.

Freaky Stories was a creepy-cool anthology cartoon where each episode featured short, spooky tales told by two puppets: a bug named Larry and a maggot named Maurice at a diner. Every story started with “This is a true story... it happened to a friend of a friend of mine,” and they were always full of urban legends, bizarre twists, and eerie humor.

The 1992 Addams Family cartoon was a spooky and silly animated reboot of the classic creepy clan, featuring all your favorite oddballs like Gomez, Morticia, Wednesday, Pugsley, Uncle Fester, and of course, Thing. With its bright, exaggerated animation and a slightly more kid-friendly tone, it kept the macabre charm while delivering bizarre adventures and kooky humor. I remember it standing out as both entertaining and weird in the best way.

Tales from the Cryptkeeper was the animated spin-off of Tales from the Crypt, tailored for younger audiences but still packed with creepy fun. Each episode was a self-contained horror story introduced by the Cryptkeeper himself—albeit in a more cartoonish, less gory way. I loved it as a kid because, to this day, I’m a huge fan of anthology horror. The mix of spooky themes, morality tales, and eerie animation made it one of my favorites to watch whenever I could catch it.

Beetlejuice: The Animated Series took the chaotic charm of the Tim Burton movie and turned it into a wild, surreal cartoon that somehow worked perfectly for kids. Instead of being a creepy antagonist, Beetlejuice is Lydia’s mischievous best friend, and the show mostly takes place in the bizarre "Neitherworld" full of weird creatures and offbeat humor. The animation style and constant bad-puns made it memorable, and honestly, it's still fun to revisit.

Bonkers was Disney’s wild and wacky answer to Who Framed Roger Rabbit, blending toon chaos with cop show antics. It followed Bonkers D. Bobcat, a zany ex-cartoon star turned police officer, as he partnered with a grumpy human detective to solve crimes in a world where toons and humans coexist. The show was colorful, loud, and full of slapstick humor, and I remember loving the frantic pace and silly energy. It wasn’t always consistent (especially with the different partners Bonkers had), but it was pure '90s cartoon madness, and I definitely enjoyed it back in the day.

"I can't go down there, it smells like POO-GAS!" — Freakazoid! was absolute chaos in cartoon form, and I loved every second of it. A superhero parody created by the same minds behind Animaniacs and Batman: The Animated Series, it mashed together absurd humor, fourth-wall breaks, pop culture jabs, and just plain nonsense. Freakazoid himself was a blue-skinned, hyperactive weirdo who screamed a lot and did whatever he wanted, usually while foiling villains in the most ridiculous ways possible. It was way too smart and weird for its time, and that's exactly why it's still one of my favorite animated shows.

NARF! Pinky and the Brain was a genius-level cartoon—literally, since one of them was a genetically engineered super-intelligent lab mouse. The other... well, he meant well. Every episode followed Brain’s elaborate (and always doomed) plans for world domination, while Pinky bumbled around with non sequiturs and goofy sound effects. It was sharp, clever, and somehow made existential frustration hilarious. Whether they were cloning world leaders, building massive robots, or disguising themselves as Elvis impersonators, their antics never got old. And of course, it always ended the same way: "The same thing we do every night, Pinky—try and take over the world!"

Tiny Toon Adventures was like Looney Tunes for a new generation, with younger counterparts learning comedy at Acme Looniversity from the original wacky cast. Buster and Babs Bunny (no relation!), Plucky Duck, Hamton J. Pig, and the whole crew brought zany energy, clever writing, and a bit more ‘90s edge to classic cartoon chaos. It had parodies, music videos, heartfelt moments, and a whole lotta slapstick. Kinda-furry. Plus plenty of pies in the face and seltzer spray gags—which fits my vibe perfectly.

Histeria! wasn’t exactly my favorite, but it was entertaining enough. It tried to teach history through over-the-top skits, goofy songs, and wild cartoon antics. Kind of like Animaniacs if they were forced to pass a history test. The cast of eccentric characters made it fun, and even if the lessons didn’t always stick, the chaos sure did.

Don't Eat the Neighbours was one of those weird, hybrid shows that blended puppets, CGI animation, and other effects into something pretty unique. I actually passed on it back when it aired, and I seriously regret that now—it’s considered lost media. The only home video release is a super rare DVD I paid way too much for, and it only includes four episodes. The show had some unexpectedly clever subplots that definitely flew over kids’ heads—like a sly, British-accented male fox constantly flirting with a big, aloof-to-his-innuendo gruff male wolf. Very strong furry vibes there. And the laid-back teen wolves? Absolute chill kings who'd rather order pizza than bother hunting. I just wish someone would recover the full series; it deserves to be found.

Courage the Cowardly Dog is a creepy, quirky, and oddly heartwarming animated series that aired on Cartoon Network. It follows a timid pink dog named Courage who lives in the middle of Nowhere, Kansas, with an elderly couple—Muriel and the grumpy Eustace. Despite being terrified, Courage constantly faces off against bizarre monsters, ghosts, aliens, and other supernatural threats to protect his family. I still love it for its weird charm, eerie atmosphere, and how it balanced horror with humor and heart. No matter how strange things got, Courage always showed that bravery isn’t the absence of fear—it’s doing the right thing even when you’re scared.

2 Stupid Dogs was a gloriously dumb and hilarious cartoon from the early '90s that played like a cross between Ren & Stimpy and a Saturday morning fever dream. It followed two, well, stupid dogs—one small and hyper, the other big and dopey—as they bumbled through everyday life, usually misunderstanding everything and causing chaos. The humor was loud, weird, and proud of it—packed with slapstick, awkward silences, and the kind of random gross-out gags that only made it funnier. One of the most unforgettable moments? A character biting into something disgusting and screeching, "CACA! IT TASTES LIKE CACA!"—and yeah, it still lives rent-free in my brain.

Sheep in the Big City was a clever, offbeat cartoon that followed a silent, wooly hero named Sheep who just wanted a peaceful life in the big city. Unfortunately, he’s constantly on the run from a bumbling military organization that wants to use him as the power source for their latest invention—a sheep-powered laser weapon. With fourth-wall breaks, over-the-top narration, and pun-filled mayhem, the show mixed absurdity with satire, and Sheep’s endless efforts to dodge the Army made every episode a ridiculous joyride. The random bits done between segments of the cartoon were pretty amazing, like an advertisement for Shrimpola Cola that "makes your brain burn!"

Johnny Bravo was a flexing, clueless Elvis-voiced muscle-man in shades who thought he was irresistible—but usually just got smacked, slammed, tasored, or totally ignored. The show was packed with wild gags, fast-paced slapstick, and tons of pop culture spoofs—it even poked fun at fads like Pokémon back when it was blowing up. It was wacky in the best way, like the time Johnny dated a literal deer who thought he wouldn’t notice she was a deer. It was dumb, self-aware, and totally iconic. Also a nerd named Carl got choked a lot.

Ed, Edd n Eddy was pure chaotic gold—three dorky friends in a cul-de-sac scheming up the dumbest plans to score jawbreakers, usually ending in disaster. Each Ed had their own weird charm: the strong doofus, the neat freak genius, and the fast-talking scam artist. With its wobbly animation, surreal humor, and timeless antics, it captured the spirit of being a kid better than almost anything else. It’s still one of my all-time favorites—and honestly, it always will be.

The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy was a dark, twisted cartoon where two kids basically enslave the Grim Reaper after beating him in a limbo contest. As a kid, I passed on it—didn’t really click. But rewatching it as an adult, I’ll admit the first two seasons aren’t bad at all: clever gags, grim humor, and some solid weirdness and great pop culture references and parodies. Unfortunately, after that, it starts to nosedive. The tone gets messier, the jokes wear thin, and the quality just drops hard. Early on? Fun. Later seasons? Rough watch. Especially when it tries to focus on over the top "gross out" humor.

Time Squad was a Cartoon Network show where a dumb soldier, a whiny robot, and a smart kid traveled through time to fix historical figures who’d gone hilariously off-course. It was kind of like a chaotic, modernized version of Mr. Peabody & Sherman—but louder, dumber, and way more explosions.

Home Movies was a quirky, low-budget animated series that followed 8-year-old Brendon Small, who made bizarre homemade films with his friends while dealing with life, school, and his hilariously bitter soccer coach, McGuirk. For its time, it definitely wasn’t considered fully kid-friendly—it leaned hard into dry, awkward humor, improvisation, and surprisingly adult conversations for a show starring kids. It felt more like indie film meets Saturday morning cartoon, and that weird combo made it something special.

Science Court (also known as Squigglevision) was an educational courtroom cartoon where science lessons were settled through bizarre trials, quirky witnesses, and lots of deadpan humor. I remember watching it on my old rabbit-ear antenna TV, probably squinting through the static—but it stuck with me. It had the same wobbly animation and offbeat delivery style as Home Movies because it was made by the same studio (Soup2Nuts), and actually premiered before that show. So yeah, it walked so Home Movies could awkwardly jog

Whatever Happened to... Robot Jones? was a retro-styled Cartoon Network show about a socially awkward robot trying to navigate middle school and understand humans. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either—more of a weird curiosity with charm and some ever-so-slight '80s vibes, but it never quite clicked like other shows from that era.

Robotomy was a short-lived Cartoon Network show set on a chaotic robot planet where violence, explosions, and high school drama collided. It followed two misfit teen bots, Thrasher and Blastus, trying (and failing) to fit in. It wasn’t amazing, but I actually preferred it to Robot Jones—it was louder, weirder, and had more personality, even if it burned out fast.

SpongeBob SquarePants is the goofy, optimistic sea sponge who lives in a pineapple under the sea—and yeah, we all know it. With its absurd humor, lovable characters, and endless meme-worthy moments, it's pure cartoon comfort food. Everyone with a soul loves it. Especially the moments where Spongebob's facade breaks and we get to see he's not as naive as he comes off.

Scaredy Squirrel is almost like the Canadian equivalent of Spongebob Squarepants, only not nearly at the same level. Don't get me wrong, it's a great show—it’s just not on the same level. It's about an overly anxiety-driven, mildly OCD squirrel and the mishaps and misadventures he gets into with his lazy and dumb skunk friend. It's EXTREMELY-LOOSELY based on a series of old children's books, but the relation is so distant it almost completely ignores it.

Invader Zim was a gloriously insane Nickelodeon cartoon about Zim, a tiny alien from the Irken Empire who’s sent to conquer Earth… mostly just to get rid of him. With his malfunctioning robot sidekick GIR, he tries (and fails) to blend in while cooking up ridiculous schemes. Meanwhile, paranoid human kid Dib is the only one who knows Zim's an alien, and his goth sister Gaz couldn’t care less unless it interrupts her games. The show was chaotic, darkly hilarious, and packed with screeching nonsense like “AHH, MY SQUEEDLYSPOOCH!”—and I loved every gross, green minute.

The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack was a bizarre, sea-soaked cartoon about an overly eager boy named Flapjack, his cranky pirate mentor Captain K'nuckles, Flapjack's adopted whale mother Bubby, and their quest for the mythical Candied Island. They lived in a place called Stormalong Harbor, surrounded by shady characters, crazy situations, and unhinged nautical nonsense. The show's surreal art style and sudden shifts into grotesque close-ups gave it a uniquely unsettling charm—and its occasionally gritty humor made it even more personality. Weird, wild, and lovable.

Chowder is a colorful, chaotic cartoon about a plump, food-loving cat-bear named Chowder who serves as an apprentice to Master Chef Mung Daal, his grouchy wife Truffles, and their rock-solid employee Schnitzel (who only speaks in "radda radda.") The show was bursting with absurd, fourth-wall-breaking humor—one moment Chowder might be getting pepper sprayed by a complete stranger over a misunderstanding, the next a flamboyant cop with a lisp might flail his wrist when explaining to his superior "actually, I'm a snow leopard... rawr." With wild animation shifts, occasional puppetry, and food puns galore, its weird, loud, and totally delicious.

Regular Show was anything but regular—it followed Mordecai the blue jay and Rigby the raccoon, two lazy best friends who worked at a park and constantly slacked off, only for their dumb antics to spiral into surreal, world-ending chaos. One second they're trying to fix a busted soda machine, the next they’re battling cosmic entities or trapped in an '80s arcade nightmare. It nailed that perfect blend of dry humor, bizarre adventures, and surprisingly emotional moments. Sometimes it managed to kick up a bit of early-20s aimless ennui and angst. It’s honestly one of my absolute timeless favorites—I can rewatch it anytime and still love it.

Adventure Time is a wildly imaginative, often heartfelt cartoon that follows Finn the Human and Jake the magical dog as they explore the Land of Ooo—a vibrant, surreal fantasy world filled with candy kingdoms, demon realms, and bubblegum royalty. Beneath the goofy charm, the show constantly hints that Ooo is actually a post-apocalyptic Earth, warped by the long-ago “Mushroom War,” giving the world its strange magic-tech fusion. They live with their lovable robot buddy BMO, who acts as a game console, roommate, and emotional support toaster— they're all close enough that Finn even once told Jake “BMO’s like our child, dude!” With rich lore, emotional depth, and glorious weirdness, Adventure Time stays endlessly watchable and totally mathematical.

Wander Over Yonder is a bright, fast-paced, and joyfully chaotic cartoon about Wander, a relentlessly optimistic space traveler with a magic hat and a big heart, who roams the galaxy spreading kindness and helping people whether they like it or not. He’s joined by his tough, no-nonsense best friend Sylvia, and together they constantly foil the evil plans of the hilariously dramatic villain Lord Hater, much to his frustration. The show is bursting with wild animation, clever gags, and surprisingly deep moments beneath all the silliness. It’s a feel-good space adventure with a message: being nice is powerful—and also super annoying to bad guys.

Star vs. the Forces of Evil is a colorful, action-packed cartoon about Star Butterfly, a magical princess from another dimension who’s sent to Earth to tone down her chaotic energy. Instead, she brings her wand, wild spells, and love of fighting monsters straight into the life of her new Earth friend Marco Diaz. Together, they battle interdimensional baddies, navigate high school, and slowly uncover a deeper plot involving magic, monarchy, and rebellion. The show starts off zany and lighthearted, but evolves into something way more emotional and epic—blending slapstick with serious lore, romance, and laser puppies. Yup. Laser puppies.

Fangbone! is a fun and offbeat cartoon about a young barbarian warrior named Fangbone, from the Skullbania clan, who’s sent to modern-day Earth to protect a powerful, evil toe (yes, a literal toe) from falling into the hands of his arch-nemesis, Venomous Drool. He ends up teaming up with an average, nerdy 3rd grader named Bill, and together they battle monsters, adapt to suburban life, and clash swords with evil—all while surviving elementary school. It’s a goofy mix of barbarian fantasy meets schoolyard chaos, and it’s surprisingly charming for a show about a severed toe of doom.

The Amazing World of Gumball is a wild, fourth-wall-breaking cartoon that follows Gumball Watterson, a blue cat with a knack for chaos, and his adopted goldfish brother Darwin as they navigate life in the bizarre town of Elmore. The show blends all kinds of animation styles—2D, 3D, puppets, even photos—into one visually insane universe packed with weird neighbors, over-the-top humor, and surprisingly sharp satire and pop-culture references. It’s hilarious, unpredictable, and smarter than it has any right to be. One minute it’s toilet jokes, the next it’s existential dread—and that’s exactly why it rules.

Gravity Falls is a mysterious and hilarious cartoon about twins Dipper and Mabel Pines, who spend the summer with their great-uncle Grunkle Stan in the bizarre town of Gravity Falls, Oregon. Strange creatures, cryptic symbols, and government conspiracies lurk behind every corner, and the kids dive headfirst into uncovering it all. It’s kind of like a kids' version of The X-Files, but with sharp wit, heart, and tons of weird humor—like Soos falling in love with a virtual anime girlfriend and declaring, “She’s got exactly the right amount of emotional baggage for me!” Unfortunately, the show was cut down in its prime—after battling constant demands for censorship from Disney, creator Alex Hirsch decided to end it on his own terms rather than let it be watered down. What we got was short, sweet, and unforgettable.

2 More Eggs is an offbeat, rapid-fire animated sketch series created by the minds behind Homestar Runner. Each short is bizarre, random, and proudly low-budget looking, featuring recurring nonsense like Dooble, Hot Dip, and Trauncles. It’s like if Adult Swim had a baby with a broken Flash animation program—and somehow, it works. It's pure internet chaos disguised as a Disney XD series. A very specific memorable gem from the show was the bit Trauncles 2000; a parody cyberpunk dystopia of regular Trauncles complete with "Stevens one through five--" "ready for a life long career at Kinsley Mega Corporation."

SWAT Kats is a high-octane animated series from the early '90s that follows two ex-Enforcer pilots, Chance "T-Bone" Furlong and Jake "Razor" Clawson, who operate a heavily armed jet called the Turbokat from a junkyard hangar. Together, they secretly protect Megakat City from mutant monsters, rogue robots, and a revolving door of colorful villains, all while sticking it to the corrupt establishment that kicked them out. It was a rare mix of edgy action, dark sci-fi, and slick animation — totally ahead of its time for a kids' show. And yep, I had the mini handheld game of it as a kid — one of those chunky, plastic, black-and-white LCD units. Furry vibes all over.

Road Rovers is a 1996 animated series about five domestic dogs transformed into humanoid super-soldiers called Cano-sapiens to battle global evil. Each dog represents a different nation and brings their own quirky charm and skills to the team, with plenty of action, slapstick, and weird sci-fi plots. Between the anthro designs, snug uniforms, and Blitz’s flirty German antics — major furry vibes.

ReBoot was a groundbreaking animated series and the first-ever fully CGI cartoon, set entirely inside a computer system called Mainframe. It followed heroic Guardian Bob, spunky Dot Matrix, and techie Enzo as they battled viruses like Megabyte and Hexadecimal while surviving deadly “games” dropped in by the mysterious User. As a kid, watching this digital world unfold with cutting-edge (for the time!) graphics made you feel like you were jacked straight into the future — and it was awesome. The Playstation 1 game was uhh... not great though.

The Simpsons started as a cultural phenomenon — a prime-time animated sitcom that pushed boundaries when it debuted in the late ’80s. It was actually controversial back then, which feels wild today considering shows like South Park came out less than a decade later and made The Simpsons look tame. Everyone knows The Simpsons, but ask any fan and they'll tell you: after that first golden decade, the show nosedived. Nobody can agree on the exact moment it went bad, but we all somehow know — yeah, it definitely sucks now.

King of the Hill might not have been as flashy or meme-splattered as The Simpsons, but it carved out its own iconic legacy with dry humor, lovable weirdos, and a surprisingly heartfelt take on suburban life. It was subtle, slow-burn, and totally quotable — “That boy ain’t right” alone earned a spot in the eternal meme hall of fame. Even if it didn’t flood the internet with content, what it did spawn stuck around hard. "Pocket sand!"

Beavis and Butt-Head was MTV’s glorious middle finger to the '90s, featuring two dimwitted teens laughing at everything dumb, crude, or loud — usually while destroying something in the process. It skewered pop culture through their epic music video commentary and their total inability to function in society. And unlike most reboots that feel like zombie husks of their former selves, even the revivals are decent — which is more than most old shows can say!

Daria was a sharp, deadpan spin-off of Beavis and Butt-Head that ditched the chaos for biting wit and social satire. Centered around Daria Morgendorffer, a perpetually unimpressed teen navigating the absurdity of high school and suburban life, it became a cult favorite for anyone who felt too smart (or too tired) for the world around them. It proved you could go from snickering idiots to razor-sharp sarcasm and still be iconic! ♪"Excuse me... excuse me...You're standing on my neeeeeck."♪

Clone High was a wildly clever animated series that reimagined cloned historical figures like Abe Lincoln, Joan of Arc, JFK, and Gandhi as high school teens dealing with hormones, drama, and life. Packed with absurd humor, pop culture satire, and exaggerated teen angst, it quickly earned a cult following. Unfortunately, it was cancelled after protests from offended Indian audiences over its portrayal of Gandhi as a hyperactive party animal. JFK was one of my favorites:"Do you uh... wanna go shoot birds with BB guns?"

Undergrads was a short-lived animated series that followed four friends navigating their first year of college, complete with awkward crushes, nerdy rivalries, and early 2000s angst. Very much a product of its time, it leaned hard into the MTV-era humor, tech references, and cultural vibes of the day. While it had some charm and relatable moments, a lot of it hasn’t aged all that gracefully—but it still holds nostalgic value for folks who were there.

Duckman was a raunchy, bizarre animated series starring a crude, dysfunctional private detective duck voiced by Jason Alexander. It was known for its edgy humor, wild animation style, and surprisingly deep moments buried under sleaze and sarcasm. I don’t remember much of it myself, but years ago I tried to rewatch it and just couldn’t really get into it. Though I do remember my family watching it quite a bit when it was on TV.

The Critic was a satirical animated sitcom starring Jay Sherman, a snobby New York film critic with a knack for reviewing awful movies. It had clever writing and loads of parody, and I enjoyed it back when it was on. But watching it now… it hasn’t aged all that well—and that kid’s voice? Like nails on a chalkboard. As he said in the show, "it stinks!"

Dilbert brought the cynical, cubicle-bound humor of the comic strip to life with sharp satire of office life and corporate absurdity. It’s a great rewatch with plenty of clever moments, but unfortunately it was short-lived—and let’s be honest, the final few episodes were kinda rough.

Mission Hill was a quirky, colorful slice-of-life animated show that followed Andy and his younger brother Kevin navigating adulthood, weird roommates, and the chaotic vibes of city life. It was very much a product of its late-'90s/early-2000s era, though it hasn’t aged as poorly as some of its peers. That said, a lot of its pop culture references might fly over the heads of younger viewers—and it’s downright eerie that one of the final episodes hinted at something big about to happen just before 9/11.

South Park exploded onto the scene in the late '90s with crude animation, foul-mouthed kids, and a complete disregard for boundaries—which made it the show your parents absolutely did not want you watching. It was wildly controversial when it debuted, sparking uproar and panicked PTA meetings everywhere. Over the years, the show's tone and focus have shifted a lot—sometimes for better, sometimes for worse—but it's still going... kinda... even if Matt Stone and Trey Parker are kinda worn out over it.

Family Guy started out as a fresh, edgy cartoon that pushed boundaries with cutaway gags, offbeat humor, and a cast of bizarre but lovable characters. Over the years, it slowly molded itself to keep up with the times—sometimes successfully, sometimes not. But a bit before Disney acquired Fox, cracks really started to show. The show began to feel stale, running on autopilot. Once Disney took over, it felt like the soul got sucked out of it—turning into something unfunny, uninspired, and far removed from the clever chaos it once was.

Spawn: The Animated Series was a gritty, dark, and unapologetically mature cartoon that aired on HBO—definitely not your Saturday morning fare. It stood out with its moody atmosphere, graphic violence, and themes of damnation, revenge, and moral ambiguity. At the time, it was considered extremely dark, and most parents tried to keep their kids far away from it. The ironic part? Spawn was everywhere back then—thanks to the movie hype, you couldn’t go anywhere without spotting Spawn toys, comics, posters, and promo tie-ins. It was a surreal time when one of the edgiest cartoons on cable had action figures right next to Power Rangers.

Spicy City was one of those late-night adult animated shows that flew way under the radar—at the time, I’d never even heard of it. But watching it as an adult? It’s actually not bad, just criminally short-lived. Created by Ralph Bakshi, it had that gritty, neo-noir cyberpunk vibe with an anthology format. What really makes it stand out, though, is how bold it was for its time—tackling topics like homosexuality, spousal abuse, and other heavy themes that most shows (animated or not) wouldn’t even touch back then. Definitely not your average cartoon. Oh and it predicted VR Chat.

Stone Quackers was one of those oddball animated shows I completely missed when it first aired, but later stumbled across on streaming. It’s a short-lived series with a surreal, deadpan tone that doesn’t quite land for everyone—and honestly, it’s easy to see why it didn’t last. It wasn’t awful, but it wasn’t exactly great either—more like a weird dream you vaguely remember.

Cartoon Planet was technically a programming block, but what really made it shine were the original in-between segments starring Brak, Zorak, and Space Ghost—that’s the part I’m talking about here. The skits, songs, and random nonsense were pure gold, delivering some of the goofiest and most quotable moments of '90s animation. It felt like a fever dream stitched together with bad karaoke, space lounge energy, and Brak’s chaotic innocence mixed with Zoraks hilarious malevolence—and it absolutely ruled.

Space Ghost Coast to Coast was one of those shows I didn’t really get to see much of when it was originally airing, but rewatching it as an adult? Absolute genius. The absurd interviews, dry humor, awkward pauses, and surreal editing all blend into this perfect storm of weirdness that somehow works beautifully. I love everything about it—from the deadpan delivery to the chaotic energy of Zorak and Moltar. It’s a masterclass in low-budget brilliance and one of the weirdest, most wonderful things Adult Swim ever gave us. It even poked fun at itself—like when Zorak casually mentions it cost the network $500 to animate him moving his hand… and then just starts wiggling it nonstop to bleed their budget dry.

The Brak Show is still one of my all-time favorite shows to this day. I caught a little of it on TV back when it aired, but most of my watching was done sneaky-style—on my friend’s laptop during classes in school, huddled over the screen trying not to laugh out loud. Brak’s bizarre charm, the absurd suburban antics, and that delightfully offbeat humor just clicked with me. Even now, I still find myself randomly quoting lines. ♪"Three hams will fill him, three hams will thrill him, why don't you feed him... three haaaams!"♪ Let's also not forget the time Zorak slept with an alien named Pepper and later found out the alien was male... Pepper has a family, don't contact him!

12 oz. Mouse is pure, chaotic brilliance—and I still love it to this day. With its intentionally crude art and cryptic, dreamlike storytelling, it somehow manages to be both hilarious and kinda mysterious. The main character, Mouse Fitzgerald (or just Fitz), is a drunken, mumbling weirdo who handles just about every situation by shooting at it—which almost never works or accomplishes anything. And the humor? Gold. Like the time he randomly decided, “We're gonna be a rock stars… but first, we must burgle,” then promptly smashed a store window and stole a guitar. It’s surreal, messy, absurd—and it totally rules.

Xavier: Renegade Angel was absurdly stupid, goofy, and occasionally downright disturbing—and that’s exactly what made it great. With its hideous early-2000s CGI and nonstop barrage of fake-deep nonsense, it felt like watching a spiritual fever dream cooked up by a philosophy major who got lost after a head injury. Xavier’s bizarre monologues and antics were equal parts hilarious and horrifying. It’s one of those shows where you’re never sure if you’re laughing because it’s funny or because your brain’s melting—but either way, it’s unforgettable.

Aqua Teen Hunger Force is—and always will be—amazing. From the moment those greasy fast-food weirdos hit the screen, it carved out a weird, chaotic corner of animation that no other show could touch. Even in its later seasons, it kept things fresh by adopting tongue-in-cheek alternate titles like Aqua Unit Patrol Squad 1 and Aqua TV Show Show—a cheeky nod to creators insisting they were “done” with Aqua Teen, only to keep bringing it back under a different name. Frylock, Meatwad, and Master Shake remain eternal icons of absurd genius. Everyone loves Meatwad... but I'm a Shake guy, myself. "I don't have teeth because teeth are for gay people, and I'm not gay."

Brickleberry comes from the wonderfully twisted mind behind The DAMN Show and Yucko the Clown, so you already know it's going to be unfiltered, offensive, and hilarious. With its wildly adult humor and completely dysfunctional park ranger crew, it’s the kind of show that’s easy to rewatch if you’ve got a taste for dark, dumb comedy. Too bad it didn’t last longer—but while it was around, it definitely made its mark just like that "yogurt" in the fridge did to Steve.

Bob’s Burgers is… okay. Not great, not terrible—just kind of there. It’s got its charm, sure, but it never really lived up to the massive hype. I don’t get the die-hard fans because, for me, it was never that entertaining—and some of the characters (looking at you, Gene and Linda) could be painfully cringe-inducing. It's background noise with buns.

The Oblongs was one of those strange little shows that stuck out for its dark humor and weird characters living in a toxic-waste-soaked valley. I don’t have it archived yet, but maybe I’ll grab it in the future. It wasn’t bad and definitely had its moments—but yeah, I can see why it was short-lived. It was just a bit too oddball to last. One lasting gag: the daughter Beth asking a butcher for meat with no growth hormones and stating something to the effect of "I don't need another one of these" and pointing to a phallic growth on her head. The Oblongs was probably the only decent thing to ever come out of Will Ferrell.

Mary Shelley’s Frankenhole was a weird little gem I absolutely love. It cleverly spoofed classic horror tropes with a stop-motion style and deeply twisted humor, blending time travel, monsters, and dysfunctional relationships into something truly unique. Sadly, like many Adult Swim oddities, it was short-lived—but definitely entertaining while it lasted.

Moral Orel is a dark parody of Davey and Goliath, using stop-motion to skewer the hollow moralizing of white picket fence suburban life. What starts as silly religious satire slowly spirals into bleak, cynical storytelling about broken families, repression, and hypocrisy. It’s uncomfortable, brilliant, and unforgettable... like the time Orel's dad taught a kid how to smoke.

Robot Chicken is a rapid-fire stop-motion sketch comedy show that throws pop culture into a blender and hits purée. It’s crude, chaotic, and packed with nostalgia-fueled absurdity. Honestly, it’s gone on so long now that I haven’t seen most of the episodes—but the early ones were an absolute riot.

Superjail! is like getting drop-kicked into a fever dream drawn by a hyperactive lunatic with a box of crayons and a grudge. I didn’t really catch it when it aired, but I watched it later—and while it’s not bad, it can drag on at times. The animation is pure chaos, with moments like the Warden dressing inmates up as rabbits and wolves and forcing them into cartoonishly-gory deathmatches—it’s basically a blood-soaked, weirdly animated acid trip.

Squidbillies is an absolute classic—and yeah, I love it, and honestly, most people do. It’s hilariously crude, unapologetically weird, and packed with southern-fried cringe-fueled insanity that somehow just works. What’s wild is how long it ran—over a decade!—even though it totally doesn’t feel like it. It snuck into our brains like a moonshine-fueled fever dream and never really left.

Mr. Pickles is one of those shows that at first makes you go “what the hell am I watching?”—and then you keep watching anyway. At times it’s absolutely disgusting, and I’ll admit the art style repulsed me at first. But weirdly enough, it grew on me. Once you get past the shock factor and over-the-top gross-out and cringe scenes, it’s actually not a bad show… when it’s not being too nasty.

Metalocalypse is brutal, bloody, and metal as hell—with just enough satire to make it genius. I always thought the show ended ages ago, so finding out it kept going until 2023 totally blew my mind. It’s a solid show through and through, but honestly? I still think it would’ve been better if they’d just named it after the band: Dethklok. Times like when Dr. Rockso stayed at their place make the show super memorable... especially with gags like Murderface waking up to Dr. Rockso putting his hands down his pants only for Dr. Rockso to whisper in his face "I do cocaine..." before Murderface screams in terror.

Smiling Friends is surprisingly good—especially considering there was a stretch where Adult Swim (and Cartoon Network overall) kinda went to hell for a bit. (Steven Universe... Loiter Squad... gross.) It's sharp, weird, and genuinely funny in a way that feels fresh but still in the spirit of classic Adult Swim vibe. Even though it’s been around for about five years now, it feels like a potential tipping point—hopefully, just maybe, Adult Swim is swinging back to being decent and enjoyable again.

Rick and Morty started out as a wild parody of Doc and Marty, originally from a crude Channel101 short. It exploded onto the scene as a cultural phenomenon—suddenly it was on every T-shirt, quoted endlessly, and had everyone buzzing. But after those first few seasons of brilliant sci-fi satire and dark humor, it fizzled into a kind of stale, no-longer-funny mess that’s failing to stay relevant... let alone recapture what made it great in the first place.

Solar Opposites came from the same minds behind Rick and Morty, bringing a similar chaotic, irreverent energy—this time with a family of alien misfits stranded on Earth. While it had its moments (especially the "Harry Potter whistle" subplot), it fizzled out even faster than Rick and Morty, feeling like it lost its way by about a season and a half in. It tried to be sharp and weird, but ultimately just fell flat.

Never saw it when it aired but The Head is an extremely bizarre yet entertaining animated series that aired on MTV. It follows a guy named Jim whose head becomes freakishly large after an alien named Roy takes up residence inside it. Roy's mission? To stop a race of evil aliens from taking over Earth. The first season has a solid story arc with great weirdness, balancing absurdity and sci-fi drama in a way that made it a cult hit. Season two wasn’t bad, but the main story had basically wrapped up, so it wandered into random side stories—which probably led to the show’s quick demise. Still, it’s a strange little gem worth remembering.

Futurama is the sci-fi comedy classic from Matt Groening that refuses to stay dead—it’s been canceled and revived more times than Fry’s brain cells. When it first aired, it was amazing: clever, entertaining, hilarious, and iconic, with unforgettable characters and great stories. But each time it came back, the magic faded a little more. The latest Hulu revival? So weak even the show itself jokes about how bad it is. It’s the textbook case of "should’ve stayed in cryo-sleep." Still, that original run? Pure animated gold.

Disenchantment is Matt Groening’s medieval fantasy venture, and while it’s not terrible, it’s definitely his weakest animated series. It has its moments—quirky characters, some fun world-building—but it never quite hits the high notes of The Simpsons or Futurama. The pacing feels off, the humor’s hit-or-miss, and the story drags more than it enchants. But to be fair, it was born straight into the streaming era, where shows often feel like they’re written for background noise. Not awful, just… kind of meh.

Harvey Beaks is one of those shows I completely missed when it aired, but caught later through streaming—and honestly, it’s surprisingly good. It’s got a sweet, wholesome vibe at its core, but sprinkles in enough absurd and random humor to keep things interesting. One episode even gently mocks steampunk nerds, and there’s brilliant throwaway lines like cutting to Harvey mid-convo saying, “Still… I’m not comfortable calling a hotdog a sandwich.” It’s charming, weird, and way better than it had any right to be. Easily something that could be enjoyed by younger and older audiences; especially with all the culture references and parodies occasionally tossed out.

Archer started off as a razor-sharp, stylish spy comedy loaded with blunt comedic action, layered-on running gags, and style. For years, it was consistently hilarious and smart. But once the infamous coma seasons kicked in—where each season reimagined the cast in weird alternate realities—the show got bizarre in a way that wasn’t always funny or entertaining. It lost its footing, and honestly, it fell straight into the trash pretty quickly after that.

From the creators of Archer, Frisky Dingo is a chaotic action-comedy about Killface, a bone-white supervillain trying to destroy Earth, and Xander Crews, a billionaire himbo superhero in a robo-suit. The show’s rapid-fire nonsense and gags are exactly what make it so brilliant. Tragically underrated, but unforgettable for those who saw it. From moments Killface telling his mumbling son "no, you can't has cheeseburger" to the "ant farm keyboard" this show is gold.

I never gave Total Drama Island a shot when it aired—reality TV isn’t my thing, and an animated parody of it sounded even worse. But after finally watching it, I’ll admit it’s not bad at all. It’s got clever humor, wild characters, and decent satire—though sometimes it drags on... and hoo boy, when it drags, it’s excruciating.

The PJs is a claymation sitcom centered on life in the projects, with a heavy dose of exaggerated ghetto humor. It follows Thurgood Stubbs, the cranky superintendent, as he deals with bizarre neighbors, run-down housing, and the chaos of everyday life in the 'hood. It’s weird, gritty, and wasn't afraid to do its thing—but it carved out a unique niche and still stands out for its one-of-a-kind style.

Sealab 2021 is a chaotic, absurdist rework of an old Hanna-Barbera cartoon—and I absolutely loved it back when it was on air and still do now. The nonsense, deranged characters, crazy schemes, and constant breakdowns into total madness made it unforgettable. To this day, when someone interrupts me, I still mutter, “Ah-ah-ah. Chopper Dave is on...” and just thinking about The Bizarros or the time Murphy was trapped under a vending machine and tried to get scorpions to "send help" only for them to bring back more scorpions so they could sting him en masse.

I can't really tell you much about this show other than its a spin-off from The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy. Like when Billy & Mandy aired, I never gave this a chance. Only recently did I archive it, and I've yet to start it. I do know the basic plot however. The disembodied brain and stomach of Hector Con Carne after a lab explosion gets attached to a bear. With the help of a mad scientist named Major Doctor Ghastly and the General Skarr, Hector tries to take over the world. I've been told its like a more "gothic version of Pinky & the Brain."

From the creatores of Family guy American Dad first aired in 2005 and while it isn’t quite on the level of peak Family Guy, but it holds its own with clever writing, quirky characters, and some genuinely funny episodes. It’s not a top-tier animated comedy, but it’s far from bad and definitely has its moments. If you ask me, Toshi and Roger carry the show.

Animaniacs is a 90s animated comedy known for its fast-paced humor, pop culture parodies, and a mix of slapstick and satire. It starred the mischievous Warner siblings along with characters like Pinky and the Brain. While it was never my favorite show, I always enjoyed a good Mr. Skullhead bit—those “Good Idea/Bad Idea” segments had a dark, funny charm.

A cartoon that follows Timmy Turner, a miserable 10-year-old kid who gets a pair of fairy godparents, Cosmo and Wanda, to grant his every wish (usually with chaotic results). The show’s humor is fast-paced and goofy, with a lot of slapstick and wordplay. It’s not exactly deep or groundbreaking, but it’s got charm, memorable side characters, and some genuinely clever episodes. A solid background show if you're feeling nostalgic or just want something light and silly. Was much better before the "Wanda and Cosmo have a baby" story arc, however.

Zootopia — yeah, everyone knows the movie. But what a lot of people don’t realize is just how deliberately furry it was meant to be. Like, Disney didn’t just stumble into the fandom — they walked right in and patted us on the head. No joke: they even reached out to furry communities before release and offered free merch to fans who helped generate buzz. That’s how on-target this was. Sure, the actual plot is a pseudo buddy cop mystery with social commentary and all that jazz, but let’s be real: the real draw is the character design.

Expressive muzzles, tailored clothes on animal bodies, twitchy ears, fluffy tails, and all kinds of species-specific mannerisms? Gorgeous. The animation is slick, the fur rendering is chef’s kiss, and the cast? Phenomenal. As a fox-wolf, of course I adore Nick Wilde — sly, smooth, smug, and adorable in just the right ways. And the wolves? Perfect. Relatable. Furry as hell. I'm here for the tail floof, the smug fox energy, and the fact that Zootopia basically gave us all an excuse to fur out.

The Bad Guys is a fun, fast-paced animated movie about a gang of criminal animals—Mr. Wolf, Mr. Snake, Mr. Shark, Mr. Piranha, and Ms. Tarantula—who try to go “good” after a heist goes wrong. It mixes heist comedy with slick animation and some surprisingly sweet moments as the gang fumbles through doing the right thing... followed by a few twists and turns and surprises. And yeah, Mr. Wolf is absolutely adorable, especially when he’s in that ridiculously cute sheep onesie.

Fritz the Cat is a greasy, unfiltered romp through the heart of 1960s counterculture — a raunchy animated satire that dives headfirst into the pretentious art scene, volatile race relations, and the unhinged political extremism of the era. Based on Robert Crumb’s underground comics (though heavily disowned by him), the film follows the oversexed, egomaniacal, and ever-curious feline Fritz as he drifts through beatnik parties, ghettos, and drug-fueled escapades in search of meaning… or maybe just a cheap thrill.

With its anthropomorphic cast and grimy urban aesthetic, the film pulls no punches. It’s wildly offensive, biting in its commentary, and definitely not for kids — this was the first animated feature to receive an X rating in the U.S., and it earned it. Beneath the shock value, however, is a raw and brutally honest lens on the chaos and contradictions of the time. It's messy, absurd, occasionally brilliant, and a one-of-a-kind piece of adult animation history. Much more tame today than it was in 1972. Moderate furry-vibes.

Downtown is an animated TV series that aired on MTV, set in New York City. The show revolves around a group of twenty-something friends navigating the complexities of life, relationships, and adulthood. The main characters include the introspective, neurotic young man named Alex, his sarcastic and disillusioned best friend Ella, and a colorful cast of others who face the ups and downs of urban life.

The animation style is somewhat minimalist, with a muted color palette and simple designs that matched the show's tone—a mix of humor, existential angst, and social commentary. Downtown is often praised for its mature, character-driven storytelling, and its exploration of themes like personal identity, friendship, love, and the struggles of growing up. Despite its cult following, the show only lasted for one season, but it has remained a beloved example of late-90s animation with a focus on adult themes.

Fantastic Mr. Fox is a charming, meticulously crafted stop-motion film directed by Wes Anderson that oozes style, wit, and cozy woodland vibes. Based on the Roald Dahl story, it follows the suave but restless Mr. Fox as he returns to his chicken-stealing ways, dragging his family and quirky animal neighbors into a battle with three nasty farmers. The visuals are stunning, the humor is clever, and the whole thing radiates personality. It’s adorable, heartfelt, and yes — major furry vibes with its well-dressed, expressive animal characters. An absolute gem that’s as fun to watch as it is to look at.

The Big Bad Fox and Other Tales is a sweet and silly French animated film featuring a timid fox who ends up mothering three adorable chicks. It’s got a soft, storybook art style and a cozy farmyard setting, and the whole thing feels like a warm blanket of cartoony charm. It’s basically Looney Tunes meets bedtime story. Not super long, and perfect for a quiet evening when you want something feel-good and full of animal antics.

Mongrels is a wickedly sharp British comedy about a group of foul-mouthed, emotionally unstable animals—mostly urban strays—living behind a pub in London. It’s not a kids’ show, despite the puppet cast. We’re talking dark humor, biting satire, and a healthy dose of absurdity. The main crew includes a metrosexual fox, a bitter pigeon, a trashy foul-mouthed dog, and a few other gloriously deranged critters, all navigating their twisted little slice of city life.

It mixes puppetry with live-action humans, but the real stars are the animals and their gloriously unhinged drama. It's smart, it's crude, and it hits that perfect UK comedy sweet spot of being both clever and completely ridiculous. "Nelson, you clown's foreskin!"

Major furry vibes, by the way—like, unapologetically so. Some of the staff and even the puppets themselves were shown off at furry cons. And I don’t care if it’s technically a puppet show with some real people—it’s going in the animation category so pbbbbt. :P

Creature Comforts is a brilliantly clever British claymation series from Aardman Animations (the folks behind Wallace & Gromit), and it’s one of those shows that’s way more genius than it has any right to be.

The premise? Real interviews with ordinary people—talking about everything from pets to weather to family life—are set to clay stop-and-go animated animals in everyday or zoo-like situations. So you’ll hear a grumpy old man complain about his neighbors, but it’s coming out of the mouth of a tired bloodhound in a kennel. Or a hedgehog nervously talking about fitting in with others. The contrast between the down-to-earth voices and the adorably expressive animal models is comedy gold.

It’s not just funny—it’s weirdly heartwarming and relatable, too. You end up seeing bits of yourself in these clay critters, which is kind of magical. It’s a masterclass in character animation, dry humor, and observational wit, all without ever needing a traditional plot.

In short: Creature Comforts is one charmingly unique show—equal parts wholesome, hilarious, and quietly profound.

Celebrity Deathmatch is pure, glorious late-‘90s mayhem—claymation carnage at its finest. Premiering on MTV, the show pits exaggerated, plasticine versions of celebrities against each other in over-the-top, gory wrestling matches where limbs fly, heads explode, and egos get body-slammed into goo.

Hosted by the ever-deadpan Johnny Gomez and the unhinged Nick Diamond, with ringside “medical help” from the mad scientist Referee Mills Lane (“I’ll allow it!”), the show was a savage parody of pop culture, fame, and tabloid ridiculousness. Britney Spears vs. Christina Aguilera? Marilyn Manson vs. Charles Manson? It didn’t matter how absurd it got—if they were famous, they were fair game.

It was loud, violent, juvenile, and hilarious—and somehow also weirdly cathartic. Nothing was sacred, and that was the point. The clay may have been soft, but Celebrity Deathmatch hit hard where it counted: right in the funny bone with a steel chair.

Tom Goes to the Mayor is a surreal, deadpan animated series created by Tim Heidecker and Eric Wareheim that aired on Adult Swim from 2004 to 2006. The show follows Tom Peters, an awkward, well-meaning everyman who constantly pitches bizarre civic improvement ideas to the dimwitted and overly enthusiastic Mayor of the fictional Jefferton. Every idea, no matter how harmless or helpful, gets twisted into a disaster thanks to the Mayor's clueless meddling.

The show’s distinctive visual style—crudely animated photo-manipulated characters in a blue-gray monotone—perfectly complements its awkward humor and bleak tone. It's weird, uncomfortable, and hilariously absurd, making it a cult favorite for fans of offbeat, anti-comedy weirdness. If you're into shows that make you laugh while wondering why you’re laughing, Tom Goes to the Mayor delivers.