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Mary Worth, 8/18/19

Ah, this Hugo, he is as slippery as an eel’s nest, n’est-il? Dawn tries to set her hook, but he plays it koi and won’t rise to the bait. Net net, she’s in the tank for him but he’s all, “No tanks!” She shouldn’t carp, though – she’s getting his sole attention, so at least he’s not a grouper. And it’s not like anything better is coming down the pike.

Fin.

Kevin and Kell, 8/18/19

Fannie Firefly says cousin Freddie sold their entire family to an insectivore couple for dinner. Freddie admits he took the money but claims he directed Fenton and Lindesfarne to a swarm of bees instead. How will Slylock prove Freddie is lying?

˙ʞɹɐp ǝɥʇ uᴉ ʍolƃ llᴉʍ sʇɹɐɟ s,ǝldnoɔ ǝɥʇ—sʇɥƃᴉl ǝɥʇ ɟɟo uɹnʇ llᴉʍ ʞɔolʎlS :ɹǝʍsu∀

Mutts, 8/18/19

POP QUIZ

What is the lowest form of humor?

1. Fish Puns
2. Fart Jokes
3. When Mutts finally delivers a solid punchline and promptly steps all over it.

— Uncle Lumpy

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On the Fastrack, 8/17/19

Say, here’s a long-running comic that started out as a pleasant ensemble gag-a-day strip but evolved into a soapbox for the observations, wordplay, and general adoration of a single character, who can do no wrong. Sound familiar? You can almost see Les Moore’s goatee poking out from under the goth makeup.

Gasoline Alley, 8/17/19

And here’s one of those evergreen “snatching death from the jaws of life” narratives. After decades of frustration and reader agony, Rufus’s picaresque woo is finally starting to erode Mayor Miz Melba’s defenses. As night follows day, this triggers his slide into “pain relief pill” addiction and death. Can’t blame him for wanting to quit this world, though, after that “off ow your feet” pun in panel 1.

Funky Winkerbean, 8/17/19

And here is the genuine article, authenticated by its ten-year time jump, week-long Crankshaft flashback/crossover, and overwrought exposition that falls apart on a moment’s inspection. To wit:

• “Stopping by” to give Crankshaft the funnel cake? Wait, weren’t Pete and Mindy just together at the fair? Has Mindy somehow moved into Bedside Manor?
• “I love his ‘donut on steroids’ line.” But that was back in the day, and Pete wasn’t there for it. Do these two spend all their off-panel time chattering about Things Grampa Said? Oh God, they probably do.
• “This is my engagement tiger that Pete won for me at the county fair baseball toss!” Got that, Gramps? Not, “We’re engaged!” or “We brought you a funnel cake!”, but a recap that manages to be both incomprehensible and wrong: a) Pete didn’t win the tiger, the carny gave it to him out of pity, a genuine real-world thing that happens every day; b) “I was planning to propose to you tonight …” is not a proposal, and “My engagement tiger?” is not an acceptance. (Funkyworld people do this weird proposal-not-a-proposal thing all the time.)

In all the confusion, it’s not clear whether Crankshaft is giving Pete the thumbs-up for a) his incompetent pitching, b) his incompetent wooing, or c) successful delivery of a funnel cake. My money’s on the cake.

Judge Parker, 8/17/19

Enough Funky — it’s the triumphant Apartment 3-G reboot! I like the buff new Papagoras! But adult women don’t really dress like the twins here, and since when is Margo the blonde?

Hi there! I’ll be sitting in through Wednesday the 28th while Josh takes a well-earned rest at bucolic Undisclosed Location, far up in the northern part of the state. Reach me at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net with any access issues, etc.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Mary Worth, 12/2/18

Just about every time I sit in for Josh on the Comics Curmudgeon, something amazing seems to happen in Mary Worth: a shootout, say, or a beloved character’s return from the dead, a dramatic drowning rescue, or a smoky tropical seduction. This time, Mary adopted a cat!

But what a cat! Libby is a scrappy, female Snake Plissken of a feline with biohazard dander and a “don’t shed on me” attitude. Watch her drive Dr. Jeff, starved and weeping, from his paramour’s apartment! Thrill as she snacks on the roast her “mistress” offers boxed to go! Gasp as she dares to live by her own code — in the immortal words of Wayne Dyer, “Whatever has to be done, it’s always my choice!” MEOW, bitches!

Crankshaft, 12/2/18

See this just plain doesn’t make any sense right here. We expect digestive ructions, elementary reading ability, and hours spent hogging the john from a selfish old creep like Crankshaft himself, not dainty, beleagured Pam. Just change the final speech balloon to “This’ll cover me through …” and show the Sunday Crankshaft draped neatly over that towel bar where it belongs.

Judge Parker, 12/2/18

OK, work with me a little here. Judge Parker is the side-hustle of Sally Forth author Francesco Marciuliano and Phantom daily artist Mike Manley, and um … it kinda shows? So why not make things easy for everybody by dropping the zany, well-etched characters of Sally Forth into those gorgeous Phantom backdrops of Bangalla, New York, and Tibet, and just calling the result Judge Parker? Easy peasy!

Here, Hilary returns to the Skull Cave to confront Sally about Ted’s capture during his failed rescue of Faye from terrorist Ralph’s Bronx warehouse lair. Sally tries to distract her with loot from the Treasure Room, but Hilary has already sent faithful Duncan to steal her father’s jet, pick up Nona in Lhasa, and join her to save the day!

See, it’s working already! Bonus: Alan, Randy, and Sam are recast as Ted’s ineffective, rarely-seen brothers.

Oh my gosh has this been a fun week. Special thanks to team Mary Worth, Carl the Turtle, Libby the Hell-Cat, and you, faithful reader! Josh will be back Monday to kick off the glorious “Mary dumps her cat and/or boyfriend” arc, and I’ll see you next time around.

— Uncle Lumpy