Oh, look, beloved Jumble artist Jumble Jeff appears to have put me in prison, again! Fun fact about me: one of my few recurring nightmares is that I’m about to be sent away to prison for some indeterminate crime, and I’m full of dread and terror about it. That’s probably why I developed my jailhouse strategy of becoming a prison librarian, which was dashed a few years ago when I learned that prison librarians are actually employees of the local library system and not prisoners themselves. This cartoon simultaneously raises another possible strategy — becoming a member of a prison drama club — and dashes it, as “creative differences” clearly would lead to a shiv to the gut in short order.
Rex Morgan, 2/22/12
Leave it to Rex Morgan, M.D., to somehow bring organ sales into the plotline in the most simultaneously gross and boring way! Yesterday we learned that Mabel offered part of her liver to her ex-(husband? lover? still haven’t figured this out) if he would move back in with her and stop drinking. I think Rex has this dynamic 100% wrong! She’s not selling her liver-chunk, she’s bribing someone with it! Is it a crime to bribe someone with a chunk of your liver? Is this all our Congress has to do with its time, making it illegal for us to literally slice apart our internal organs and offer them to old drunks in exchange for love and cohabitation and sobriety? I guess democracy really has failed, by God.
Mary Worth, 2/22/12
There’s nothing I like better after a big promotion than putting my hands behind my head, leaning back, thinking evil thoughts, and then somehow rearranging my facial features so I look like a completely different person! (Ha ha, just kidding, I’ve never gotten a “big promotion” in my life.) How do you think Nola “earned” that office, hmm? Was it a sex thing? A cruelty thing? A cruel sex thing? I’m betting on cruel sex thing, myself.
Beetle Bailey, 2/22/12
Believe it or not, this Beetle Bailey strip actually works on a number of levels! If you want to get to its intended destination — ha ha, General Halftrack is extremely old — you could laugh along with Miss Buxley’s evocation of an archaic form of rifle that she implies the General once fired in combat, or you could just notice that he appears to have dozed off in his office chair in the middle of the workday.