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Comics archive! Beetle Bailey

Ha ha, it’s funny because they put cookies on their genitals

Mary Worth, 2/28/15

Is this … is this the ending? The ending of this storyline? A mother and daughter shake hands while sitting amongst the boxes, having both found men to solve all their problems? A daughter makes vague promises to “help move,” probably involving browbeating the landscapers from her husband’s vast estate, and a mother makes vague promises to “help with the wedding,” which certainly doesn’t mean financial help and probably refers to picking out flowers or bridesmaids dresses or something? Also, the mother is going blind? Let’s not forget that the mother is going blind and that the flowers and bridesmaids dresses will be even more hideous than usual. Little Gordon sits on the floor, entirely lost in his electronic world. This is the delightfully transactional ending this story deserves.

Dennis the Menace, 2/28/15

Hmm, Dennis’s teacher takes him aside after class, as if to gently correct him privately, but makes sure to do it while the other children are still in earshot, so that they can snicker at his ignorance! I’d say the menace has become the menaced, except that Dennis managed to get a Sunday School lesson to linger on nudity and shame, so maybe he’s playing a much deeper game here.

Beetle Bailey, 2/28/15

Ha ha, it’s funny because nobody likes Sarge, and it’s breaking his heart!

Seriously, he could get into a bar without an ID in that outfit

Gil Thorp, 2/23/15

So this Gil Thorp storyline is focused on fake (?) Adderall dealing now, but I still pine for a simpler time, when it mostly about Max Bacon™ colluding with Marty Moon to improve his #brand. It’s nice to see Marty is up for promoting Max via dumb bacon-themed catchphrases; once the Adderall scandal comes out, Marty will presumably face as many consequences for hyping this artificially hyped-up teen as the national sports press did for fawning over the steroid-driven Major League Baseball home run races of the late ’90s and early ’00s, which is to say none.

Beetle Bailey, 2/23/15

Look, everyone who whines that Beetle Bailey is outdated and out-of-touch: here it is featuring a new, hip, up-to-the-moment thing! I’m talking about erotic nose fondling, of course, which is an innovative new sex act being performed in Brooklyn’s hippest neighborhoods right now. Everyone will be doing it in a year or so. Selfie sticks are soooo last month.

Hi and Lois, 2/23/15

Ha ha, it’s funny because Lois can’t feel joy anymore! Hi and Lois undermines its ostensible nature as a family-friendly strip by letting its readers in on a dirty little secret about families: families are terrible.

Mary Worth, 2/23/15

Ooh, so what is Amy’s big news that merits an ?-worthy invasion of Hanna’s personal space? She didn’t get married too, that’s too obvious. I’m guessing that she’s going to tell her mother that little Gordon doesn’t need to be babysat anymore, becuase she’s started dressing him like a tiny adult! Nothing says “I’m a big boy who can take of myself!” like electric blue sansabelt slacks and a matching jacket over a golf shirt.

As a trained soldier, General Halftrack should know the quickest route to the human heart, actually

Beetle Bailey, 1/17/15

Hey, it’s my favorite Beetle Bailey running gag, The Halftracks Hate Each Other With An Awful Intensity That Makes The Lockhorns Look Like A Nicholas Sparks Novel! Like many awful things in the comics, I originally “liked” this ironically but have come over the years to respect its terrible purity. Anyway, today General Halftrack tells the woman he’s been married to for decades that he has very little idea how to love a woman, but he’s quite sure that women are incapable of loving him or anyone else back.

Family Circus, 1/17/15

BuzzFeed, like all other secular entertainment, is forbidden within the walls of the Keane Kompound, and so Billy has been forced to cobble his own version together from available materials.

Pluggers, 1/17/15

Say what you will about pluggers, but they can promise you this: they will never, ever subject you to the sight of their nipples on national television.