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Comics archive! Mark Trail

Inferno Tuesday

Mark Trail, 9/16/14

When you think of Mark Trail besting his enemies, you obviously think about punching. There is however a lesser known but still very effective Mark Trail Power Move, and that’s when he rescues his enemies from mortal danger, thus humiliating them. This mortal danger generally takes the form of fiery car destruction caused by the very sort of animal the villain wronged. In this case, Ol’ “Dirty”’s truck was forced off a cliff by a herd of rhinos, no doubt in revenge for all the vicious horn-poaching he dished out on their kin. Mark’s melodramatic pleas for Chris to not die are frankly just metaphorical salt in his metaphorical wounds (as opposed to his actual wounds, which are no doubt plentiful but probably more rubbed with burning motor oil and dirt than salt).

Gil Thorp, 9/16/14

Meanwhile, over in Gil Thorp it’s time for the annual bonfire! God, if there’s one thing we can count on in this crazy mixed-up world, it’s the annual Mudlark bonfire, where players are presented to the screaming multitude, where the masses bay incoherently in their lust for blood, where fists are raised in ritualistic threats of violence, where players stake their very souls on promises of victory, where Coach Thorp basks in the otherworldly glow, where foreigners become citizens of Mudlark Nation, where young women are hurtled into the air to resemble the wrathful Valkyries of old. Anyway, this year someone who I’m pretty sure is “Jarrod,” still tenuously holding onto the starting quarterback job, is trying to cement his leadership role with a crazy-eyed rant in which he promises to crush Milford’s traditional rival. True Standish is more mellow. “Probably some EPA regulation,” he says, explaining why his previous school didn’t burn a massive pile of perfectly good timber in order to propitiate the worship-hungry Gods of Victory. Of course, the EPA is a federal agency and its regulations apply to the entire country, but it’s likely that the U.S. government long ago declared Milford a “purge zone” where laws don’t apply, in hopes that its inhabitants would finish each other off with violence and/or pollution and not trouble the rest of us.

Pluggers, 9/16/14

Meanwhile, today’s Pluggers shows us what happens when a population voluntarily cuts itself off from the recreational habits and cultural output of society at large without having the numbers or creative capacity to come up with an alternative entertainment industry. Once you’ve rejected recreational drugs as scary and bad, books as fit only for snobs, and all television and movies produced since 1975 as devilment, how else are you supposed to keep yourself entertained?

Mary Worth, 9/16/14

The Mary Worth creative team knows you need a breather between the excitement of “Mary and Toby talk about Olive” and whatever thrill ride is coming up next, so they’ve provided today’s strip, in which you can read the dullest conversation ever included in an ostensible entertainment product and just relax a bit. Mary is so bored that she looks like she’s trying out a little plugger-style eyeball fun in panel one.

Heathcliff, 9/16/14

Hey, remember when vuvuzelas were a thing people made jokes about, four years ago?

There should be some kind of pun with “Tucson” and “tusk on”, shouldn’t there?

OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS only one day left until Josh reaches LA! Last day for your generous and historic contribution! HURRY HURRY HURRY just click the banner right here ↓↓↓ HURRY!

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Wizard of Id, 9/2/14

Do you think the Wizard makes his own coffee? I don’t think the Wizard makes his own coffee.

So here’s how mornings go down in the Ofid household: when the rooster goes off Wiz casually throws a frogspell into Blanche there and hits snooze for a couple more Zs. Blanche hops wetly to the kitchen and struggles to get the coffee started. Nothing works: she slides around on the linoleum, her webbed fingers don’t grip the matches, eyes aren’t wired to see anything that isn’t moving, and she reflexively splots every fly – and these are the Middle Ages so FLIES, yo. Finally she gets the job done and sits down to have a cup and wash out the fly taste. She’s way past expecting thanks or even courtesy but could she at least have her goddamn window back you asshole?

Mark Trail, 9/2/14

Dirty, Dirty, Dirty, you just can’t catch a break with these stampedes, can you? It’s like recurring psoriasis, only with charismatic megafauna.

And c’mon, Mark – those elephants are already headed away from you in the first panel. Admit it, you’re doing this for fun.

Pluggers, 9/2/14


Pluggers can’t understand why looters don’t get free delivery.

Funky Winkerbean, 9/2/14

It’s not Les Moore it’s not Les Moore it’s not Les Moore it’s not Les Moore it’s not Les Moore ….


Westward Bound! Day Seven



So hey. Yeah, Josh and Amber arrive in LA late tomorrow God willing but that doesn’t mean you get your precious Josh back QUITE so fast no siree. There are households to unload; laid-back California ISPs to bribe, cajole, and threaten; and sleep debts to pay off.

The fundraiser ends when they arrive in LA (Hurry! Thanks!), but I’ll stay on a bit. The plan is for me to post through Friday and Josh to return with COTW sometime that afternoon. But you know what happens to plans, right? — they gang aft agley, that’s what. I’ll keep you posted.

– Uncle Lumpy

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Mark Trail, 8/29/14

Listen up, narration box: it’s not an “open field” if there’s A HERD OF ELEPHANTS IN IT.

Apartment 3-G, 8/29/14

It may be that this inventory of obsolete boyfriends is essential for Tommie to process her oft-mentioned though seldom-seen grief for her dead fiancé, but it sure feels like the strip is wrapping things up before shipping her off to Crock or somewhere before bringing in a new girl (Beth? Is Beth coming back?). Or maybe letting Margo and Lu Ann (remember them?) duke it out one floor down in Apartment 2-G.

Anyway, here’s Tommie with her colleague and suitor, Dr. Joe Kelly:

Apartment 3-G, 4/28/09 (panel)

It didn’t end well.

Beetle Bailey, 8/29/14

Amos Halftrack is alarmed at the prospect of having sex with his wife, and terrified at her determination to carry out the act. There is an ancient and nameless horror at the core of their marriage.

Funky Winkerbean, 8/29/14

Wow, Funky Winkerbean is outsourcing its lame wordplay to a one-shot walk-on. Sets some kind of baseline, right there.


Westward Bound! Day Four


Josh has his hands full as he racks up the miles across the bosom of this great land, but still manages to keep abreast of developments in popular culture. Here, he stops in at Chi-Chis — or is it Hooters? — and bumps into Dolly Parton, titular Queen of Country Music. Then back to the car, flick on the highbeams, and damn the torpedos, it’s full speed ahead: California or bust!

OK I’m a nine-year-old, but Josh started it!

– Uncle Lumpy