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Funky Winkerbean, 9/4/14

Most unwelcome guests just make you feel old.

But when Les Moore’s wife Lisa died in 2007 and once before, Funky Winkerbean jumped forward in time and its spinoff Crankshaft didn’t. The charming though confusing result is that whenever a Crankshaft character encounters somebody from the Funky continuity, they age about fifteen years.

So here we have Old Pam, daughter of Really Old Ed, and her husband Old Jeff, son of Probably Dead Rose. I say Probably Dead because that appears to be a genuine smile on Jeff’s face in panels two and three, and Rose strictly enforced her rules against that sort of thing.

As for the third panel hey, doesn’t anybody say “you’re welcome” anymore? Old Jeff is grateful for Holly’s gift — why does Holly imagine that’s worrisome for him? Not long ago, Old Jeff’s daughter Grown Up Mindy gave Holly a comic, to her joy and satisfaction — why does she think Old Jeff would react differently? Maybe she’s releasing him from an obligation to reciprocate, to break the cycle of comics-transfer before it escalates into some insane suburban potlatch with skidloads of mouldering comics trucked endlessly between Westview and Centerville to lie rotting on porches? Or is it out of simple mercy to Funky Winkerbean readers who just can’t imagine grownups making such a godawful fuss about comic books?

Comic strips, on the other hand ….

Beetle Bailey, 9/4/14

I’ve been reading Beetle Bailey a long, long time, and I can’t remember Otto ever appearing, being treated, as or acting like a real dog — to the extent that at first glance I thought he was ogling the woman in the first panel. Even the artist has a hard time accepting Otto’s dog-nature: sure, the front limbs end pawishly, but the backs end in feet, making it look like he’s running on his toes.

Maybe its just a subtle send-up of socially-constructed gender roles, such as we are used to finding in the pages of Beetle Bailey: all poodles are girls, of course, as are all ballet dancers who perform en pointe. So what appears to be gender-normative attraction is in fact ambiguous or transgressive! Who’s on the leash here?! The patriarchy!

Mary Worth, 9/4/14

Mary surrenders to control by her abdominal ganglia, much like a dinosaur or cockroach.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Gil Thorp, 9/3/14

Captain of Industry Art Standish lays down the law to a public employee over whom he has no power, and who can inconvenience him mightily with no effort or risk of repercussions. I bet ol’ Art just cracks ’em up down at the DMV: “What’s that, sir? Oh, you pay my salary? Hey, Denise, we got a VIP with us this morning — this gentleman taxpayer here pays my salary! Well sir, why don’t you just stop paying those taxes — I bet that’ll fix me good won’t it?”

Curtis, 9/3/14

An alternate-dimension Curtis arrives to teach Our Curtis a Valuable Lesson, misuse the word “identical”, and start an argument about who is argumentative. Don’t worry, Our Curtis — evidence suggests that you are indeed the “smart” Curtis, although frankly this speaks poorly of dimensions everywhere.

Mary Worth, 9/3/14

Mary advises acting on only your most powerful delusions. Isn’t that pretty much how delusions work?

Judge Parker, 9/3/14

Speaking of delusions, this is Neddy’s business plan! Hey kid, your landlord doesn’t need to see it unless you want to use the space rent-free, in which case you are looking for money.

And isn’t Bebe already a thing that exists?

Josh and Amber rolled into Los Angeles on Tuesday evening, to stay with family overnight and start moving into their new home today. I’m on the clock for a little while longer to give Josh time to find his computer, connect to the Internet, and catch up on all the action in Apartment 3-G.

And so ends the Westward Bound! Comics Curmudgeon fundraiser. Every contributor will be receiving a personal thank-you from Josh, but I’d like to add my own: thanks, you guys are the best!

— Uncle Lumpy

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OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS only one day left until Josh reaches LA! Last day for your generous and historic contribution! HURRY HURRY HURRY just click the banner right here ↓↓↓ HURRY!

Click the banner to contribute by credit card or PayPal, or here for complete details and a banner index. — Thanks!

Wizard of Id, 9/2/14

Do you think the Wizard makes his own coffee? I don’t think the Wizard makes his own coffee.

So here’s how mornings go down in the Ofid household: when the rooster goes off Wiz casually throws a frogspell into Blanche there and hits snooze for a couple more Zs. Blanche hops wetly to the kitchen and struggles to get the coffee started. Nothing works: she slides around on the linoleum, her webbed fingers don’t grip the matches, eyes aren’t wired to see anything that isn’t moving, and she reflexively splots every fly – and these are the Middle Ages so FLIES, yo. Finally she gets the job done and sits down to have a cup and wash out the fly taste. She’s way past expecting thanks or even courtesy but could she at least have her goddamn window back you asshole?

Mark Trail, 9/2/14

Dirty, Dirty, Dirty, you just can’t catch a break with these stampedes, can you? It’s like recurring psoriasis, only with charismatic megafauna.

And c’mon, Mark – those elephants are already headed away from you in the first panel. Admit it, you’re doing this for fun.

Pluggers, 9/2/14

Pluggers can’t understand why looters don’t get free delivery.

Funky Winkerbean, 9/2/14

It’s not Les Moore it’s not Les Moore it’s not Les Moore it’s not Les Moore it’s not Les Moore ….

So hey. Yeah, Josh and Amber arrive in LA late tomorrow God willing but that doesn’t mean you get your precious Josh back QUITE so fast no siree. There are households to unload; laid-back California ISPs to bribe, cajole, and threaten; and sleep debts to pay off.

The fundraiser ends when they arrive in LA (Hurry! Thanks!), but I’ll stay on a bit. The plan is for me to post through Friday and Josh to return with COTW sometime that afternoon. But you know what happens to plans, right? — they gang aft agley, that’s what. I’ll keep you posted.

— Uncle Lumpy