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Comics archive! Spider-Man

Pretty sure Egghead could’ve found this building without going through the trouble of running a newspaper

Mark Trail, 8/22/16

Is it sad, Mark? Is it really? Sad for the bats, maybe. Not sad for Woods and Wildlife Magazine’s clickthrough rate. Your article, given the snappy title “It Can’t Be Stopped. It Can’t Be Cured. And It’s Killing Every Bat On Earth” by W&W’s Associate Engagement Editor, saw a huge uptick on social sharing sites, with over 40% of readers scrolling far enough into it to register ad impressions in two different sponsorship zones. Bill’s looking for more Facebook-friendly click-harvesting hits from you — in fact, he’s hoping to get at least two of them out of your trip, tentatively titled “How Invasive Fire Ants Made Our Vacation A Tropical Hell” and “Boatsplosion! [VIDEO]”

Spider-Man, 8/22/16

“Oh, my! You’re looking for me? Hank Pym? The former Ant-Man? However did you track me down to the prominently labelled Pym Annex? Was it by following my nondescript car, which was assigned the ANTPYM license plate wholly by coincidence? I do value my privacy, but of course I’ll sign a glossy photo of myself for you. Oh, you don’t have one? Don’t worry, I have a whole drawer full of them, here at the Pym Annex.”

Funky Winkerbean, 8/22/16

Traditionally, Funky Winkerbean deaths have been agonizingly drawn out, which is why I’m really looking forward to Bull abruptly dropping dead from a rage-stroke by Thursday.

Note that the train doors are closed and that purse-snatcher is running nowhere

Marvin, 8/21/16

Marvin, you made me laugh. Not with your actual punchline, or the long, belabored lead-up to it. No, what made me laugh was Marvin, apropos of nothing and clearly as bored with his parents as we are, thinking “I want a hot dog!” How often do I have that same thought? Several times a day, to be honest! Shoutout to the Marvin comic of Sunday, August 21, 2016, for creating a moment in which I found its title character actually relatable.

Spider-Man, 8/21/16

I’m an on-the-record fan of the Sunday Spider-Man NEXT! box, but this … this is not its best work. Hey, it’s OK, NEXT! box, I of all people know the pressure of coming up with something funny to say week after week. Sometimes you just have to say “Fuck, so, he’s … going to the ant?” and move on with your life.

They probably think Zootopia is a documentary

Pluggers, 8/12/16

“Our media choices are better than your media choices.”

You know, I had assumed that the Bear-Roos and the Houndstooth-Beaks, pluggers all, would just naturally know one another and sit in the same row at the movies — to chat, take too many bathroom breaks, let their phones ring over to voicemail, chew their food with their mouths open, and generally annoy the hell out of me. But in an archive dive of the last three years, I can’t find a single panel that shows Andy and/or Henrietta with Earl and/or Shiela. That’s some pretty admirable consistency, Mr. Chief Plugger! But now my discredited assumption makes me feel like one of those people who says “But you must know him – you’re in the same Army.” You know the people I mean: pluggers.

Spider-Man, 8/12/16

There’s no way she’s not trolling him right now: “Does he show up uninvited at picnics? Can he sit quietly without fidgeting? Does he work in venture capital? Have Mommy Issues?”

Beetle Bailey, 8/12/16

Killer’s appetite for sexual risk only grew until the day they found him in the woods, naked and blue, with a taut chain from his neck to the axle of a stalled Jeep.

Gil Thorp, 8/12/16

“Hmm, there’s a rift between Barry Bader and the rest of the team. Can I get True to take care of it for me? Nope. Can I fob it off on Kaz? Nope. Oh, well — guess I just gotta make the kid figure it out himself. Hope Mimi put that wine in the fridge — this is shaping up to be one tough day!”

There’s a reason his cup says “GIL” and his nameplate says “THORP.” The word “COACH” belongs nowhere near this guy.

Just a reminder that there’s no Comments of the Week this week — BigTed’s contribution gets an extended ride!

–Uncle Lumpy