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Comics archive! Better Half

Saturday mostly shorties

Better Half, 3/15/14

Don’t ask Harriet, Stanley — she gave up on dreams long ago. Didn’t mind the format so much; just got sick of the programming.

Funky Winkerbean, 3/15/14

What passes for joy in the Funkyverse: He’s Not Really Dead, Part IV.

Herb and Jamaal, 3/15/14

The Reverend Croom has figured out Herb spits in his food.

Heathcliff, 3/15/14

Oh man, is that a cat thong in the middle there? The neighbor lady looks pretty horrified; I bet it’s a cat thong.

Between Friends, 3/15/14

OK, so this is Between Friends, which mixes joke-a-day and soapy arcs about the lives and times of three middle-aged women and should therefore be called Among Friends, but that’s not important right now. There’s an unfulfilled stay-at-home mom and a frazzled working mom and childless divorceé Maeve here, finishing up a whirlwind European vacation and wrenching final breakup with her ex-husband by visiting her company’s Paris office and trying to gin up a glam new international job. So you can apparently do a lot more with the whole “3 Girls” concept than orphan deer and off-panel plane crashes, even when everybody’s Canadian.

Hey, I’m filling in during Josh’s mostly-annual Spring Trip West through Sunday, March 23. Let me know if the site starts acting up on you and I’ll do what I can to fix it: Enjoy!

– Uncle Lumpy

No happiness can escape the Funkvent horizon

Funky Winkerbean, 3/4/14

Cindy Summers had been just about the only major Funky Winkerbean character to have escaped Westview’s depressive, cancerous gravitational pull, but since her discriminatory firing, her fantasy of personal happiness is now over and God, she’s even more miserable looking about it that I would’ve imagined. Look at the loving detail on the bags under her eyes in the final panel! Has she been crying? Or is she just tired, so very tired? Anyway, I love that instead of going to one of Cleveland’s hipper neighborhoods or even to some nice, soothing chain motel where she can get her bearings, she’s chosen to have the cab take her directly from the airport to the ex-husband-managed pizza place that’s the social and economic epicenter of the dying suburb where she grew up. You can go home again. You must go home again. THERE IS NO ESCAPING YOUR HOME, NOW, AGAIN, OR EVER.

Curtis, 3/4/14

Don’t worry everyone! Gunk did not die when he leapt into the icy water to rescue dolphins! He just went into a state of hibernation so everyone thought he was dead. (We did not get similarly reassuring closure on the status of the dolphins.) Also he has now explicitly admitted that the inhabitants of Flyspeck Island are a distinct and non-human species of hominids? Look for the U.S. Navy to quarantine the place and send in teams of scientists as soon as word gets out.

Better Half, 3/4/14

Harriet would prefer to have sex with a woman.

Lockhorns, 3/4/14

Loretta would prefer to have sex with the Brawny towel guy.

The outlined scenario is almost certainly too interesting to be a Tommie storyline

Apartment 3-G, 2/26/14

There’s been some suspicious chatter in the comments about the possibility that Tommie’s fiancé might not actually exist. Sure, we’ve seen him, but we also saw the mysterious ghost who forced Lu Ann to make all those crappy fern paintings, and he just turned out to be a byproduct of the carbon monoxide poisoning she developed from working in a poorly ventilated studio. Couldn’t terrible loneliness be an even more powerful spur to hallucinatory lunacy than oxygen deprivation? Tommie’s reckless food overpurchases certainly indicate a kind of panicked mania. “Yep, enough food for seven men! Of which my fiancé is definitely one! Not a figment of my imagination! Not a story that I thought nobody would ever be able to confirm or deny! A real, flesh and blood human man who wants to marry me! Ha ha! Hope you like things that come out of brightly-colored boxes!”

Mary Worth, 2/26/14

Looks like Tommy’s had a political awakening in the joint! No matter how badly he needs a job, he recoils in disgust at the thought of helping some vast megaretailer conglomerate crush the struggling mom-and-pop stores the still cling to life along Santa Royale’s scenic shopping/fish-gutting district down by the pier. Or maybe he’s just worried that his sobriety will be in trouble because the Santaroymart warehouses a den of drug depravity, if I correctly remember that the hilariously botched and laughably named drug bust “Operation H-Town” went down there.

Better Half, 2/26/14

Sure, it’ll probably set her back thousands of dollars, but when you come home and find your husband sticking his dick in your home entertainment system, you can be forgiven for reacting strongly.

Herb and Jamaal, 2/26/14

Like when there’s nobody else in the room, for instance!