Comment of the week? Comment of the week!
“Does Margo still not realize that she’ll never leave this Purgatory until she accepts the guidance of her angelic visitor? He’s been persistent, but even his eternal patience is wearing thin, I think. He’s even offered Margo knowledge of his secret NAME, by which she could obtain power over him through Onomancy, but she continues to stubbornly shun him.” –Duke of Earl Grey
Hilarious runners up? Hilarious runners up!
“Zombies? I think the people who produce this strip subscribe to some sort of ‘zeitgeist newsletter,’ which promises to keep them up on breaking trends but is always a few months late when it arrives in the mail. Next week: ‘Jughaid was supposed ter write the date on his paper en class, and he wrote Age of Ultron!!!’ (hand raised to mouth, tongue loll, beads of sweat).” –handsome Harry Backstayge, idol of a million other women
“‘I do love the Dale Evans restaurant! Anyway, can you pass me a Poopsi-brand soft drink? It’ll go well with these Cheesos puff snacks.’ (cracks soda) ‘Ahhh, Poopsi. The choice of a younger age group.'” –Dan
“Archie and Betty think back to when gossip and rumor could be considered ‘facts’ and are paralyzed by an internal debate: is it better to speculate about people’s private lives or to be able to steal their credit card numbers?” –Spunky The Wonder Squid
“Max, distracted by the fruit, is useless as ever as Patient A, also known as Count Weirdly, jumps out of bed and rams his IV needle into Slylock’s arm. A cold numbness begins to spread up the Canine Cogitator’s arm. The Crafty Count smiles. ‘Well, I have you now, don’t I?’ the Royal Rapscallion titters, as the Venerable Vulpine slides to the floor. Memories of childhood flood the Ratiocinating Reynard’s brilliant mind, the smell of mice in the sunlit fields of home, the crackle of their bones in his teeth. A simpler time. Groggily, the De-evolving Detective looks around and, to his surprise and joy, sees a mouse.” –Voshkod
“What a husband! ‘Sure, I can fully understand why you want to kill me and my wife, but let me try talking you out of killing someone else.'” –Joe Momma
“Damnit Momma, haven’t you heard the golden rule of storytelling? Momma gets hurt and we only get to hear about it second hand, after the fact, in the most ham-fisted infodump in the history of thought balloons? I can think of nothing that would amuse me more than seeing Momma falling and seriously injuring herself.” –Jenny Creed
“I appreciate that the semi-topical reference to Taylor Swift is cushioned by a decidedly-not-topical reference to Florence Nightingale. The great nurse’s name acts as sort of an airbag between Momma’s readers and the threat of modernity. Try it yourself: ‘I’ll bet Chester A. Arthur never used one of these smartphone doohickies!'” –Joe Blevins
“Given that Margo and her mysterious interloper are facing the same way in both panels and have shown no signs of movement, and yet the building and car in panel 1 have been replaced with two buildings in panel 2, I think we have our first proof that Margo is right: the world really does revolve around her.” –Comrade Dread
“Vaguely-nihilist-looking Jeffy is BEST Jeffy. ‘Hey, Doll. Yeah, I know what you’re talking about. Remember when I converted to Islam last year after I found out there was a flying horse in it? You’ll remember that didn’t last. No, it didn’t last, because I was a poor, mindless naif back then, Dolly. I didn’t get it yet. I didn’t realize that deities are an illusion, made by man to cope with his place in the swirling void. We’re just trapped in this big circle we call the universe, imprisoned by the things that make us human. Inevitabilities abound: the punchline will always be under the panel. We will never leave this Kompound. We are immortal, you and I, and will gain incalculable years until the newspapers get tired of deformed children mispronunciating things. Look around you; if God lived, would he allow this? No, Dolly, there is no God, and if there ever was, he is dead. Perhaps we have killed him; we shall never know. But what we do have is this, my childish, wide-headed friend: Each other, and the mortal pleasures of this world. And that includes chocolate, Dolly. Yes, the sweet, sweet taste of chocolate, to grant you tranquility as you turn to dust.'” –Jack loves comics
“I like the soft approach officer bear seems to be taking at the scene of a homicide in progress. ‘Excuse me? EXCUSE ME, Mr Wolf? If you eat that pig you’ll be in violation of the criminal code, sectio-…ok, now that rabbit is my partner and an officer of the law, so if you…oh damnit…'” –pugfuggly
“Louis Wain’s ‘Lynx Delighted by View of Rabbit Arse’ was a popular print in Victorian Britain.” –nescio
Luann: “Poor Frank. He’s just a generic dad, so generic that he hasn’t even been assigned to a specific job, just a litany of generic complaints about jobs in general. In my fanfic, he works for the Ace Box Company as a Quality Control assistant with responsibility for the right top flaps of the 12″ by 18″ boxes. He inspects them while he dreams of more. Someday, he will own a warehouse that is filled with boxes! And every box will have a right top flap that has been manufactured according to specifications at all six QC checkpoints. He smiles wistfully, and takes the newest issue of Box Quarterly into the bathroom with him for his morning break.” –Calvin’s Cardboard Box
“Parson Tuttle clearly isn’t a Bible literalist, because that doesn’t look like 300x50x30 cubits to me. Hope you like burning in hell, Parson.” –C. Sandy Cyst
Mary Worth: “The truth finally comes out! Adam’s real intention in this wooing of Terry was to get a job! Good strategy — it’s hard to get anywhere these days just contacting the personnel department. You have to ‘know someone.'” –Arabella
“Parson Tuttle’s Creationist Museum promised to bring much needed revenue to Hootin’ Holler until the night Ken Ham’s lawyers showed up. After that fiasco, all he had left was the architects’ model, which he sadly cast into the crick.” –Little Blue Bicycle
“Mr. Wilson glared at Dennis. Normally the child was an interrogative deluge. The mouth of a river of incessant, pestering questions. And he’d finally come up with a pun! Something cutting and cruel, like an exceptionally sharp and well-loved knife. And so he waited, pun at the ready. But the boy didn’t ask anything! Anything at all. He just stood there, elbows hooked over the fence, glaring hatefully into their yard, his beady eyes pinched with terrible intent. For hours, Wilson waited. Any interrogative. Finally, desperate to use the treasured joke and with no opening, he couldn’t bear it. ‘why chromosomes!’ The wind rustled the trees gently. And in the silence, Dennis dropped from the fence and was gone.” –bunivasal
“What movement will the BMs be playing?” –Dood
“When Winkerbean père blows the horn to signal that the seventh seal from the Book of Revelations has how been broken open, will a vegetative Ed Crankshaft lead the resurrected Lisa Moore and My Father John Darling The Newscaster Who Was Murdered in a zombie apocalypse that will attack the class reunion and chow down on the brains of all in attendance, followed by pizzas at Montonis? That may not be what happens in tomorrow’s strip, but by God, it’s what’s gonna happen in mine.” –seismic-2
“Don’t discount this Heathcliff botched ‘hang ten’ joke as faulty math. Even the art is very subtly masking the real joke here. They want to drop a hint that Heathcliff is actually a polydactyl cat. Not one of the ‘6 front toes instead of 5 or 5 rear toes instead of 4′ polydactyls but a ‘17 toes on the left, 24 on the right.’ Under fur, from a distance, or drawn crudely by an aging syndicate lackey hanging on only because their pension is almost empty, it’s hard to see this physical trait. But this is why Heathcliff is always in motion: in a blur, no horrors can be seen for what they are. The ‘cool’ Heathcliff would be ruined by this expose if we could see his 10 distended extra toes hanging off the back of the board, and the writer knows it. This comic is about how we hide our physical faults, and how we feel we might be caught and drowned by society at any moment.” –Ben Ferber
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