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Dropping even the pretense that kids read them anymore, the comics turn at last to porn.

Popeye, 3/17/12

Sea Hag cooks up a scheme to defeat Popeye using a sex robot. HEH, HEH!

Judge Parker, 3/17/12

The Judge Parker girls ‘n’ guns fetish epic rushes toward its climax, reeking of perfume, sweat, and cordite:

Monique Zatari @hitgal d fahimwife4: OMG 3way @bustybower — u in? Bring yr GUN srsly k?

April Bower @bustybower d sexysanchez: Got a live one here with @hitgal — come packing! Hurry!

Ofc. Melody Jones @sweetsong d dispatch: I hear murmuring — coming from inside the house!    I’m going in!

Gloria Sanchez @sexysanchez d junebug: Hott scene @bustybower — ditch Rex; bring Glock.

Rex Morgan M.D., 3/17/12

Oh Rex, Rex, Rex, you’re doing it all wrong. “Put on the apron” means the apron only. Also, you’re supposed to be holding a spatula not that damn cookie, and those spank lines shouldn’t be coming from her head. I swear you are just hopeless.

June, dear, if you hurry maybe you can catch the action over at April’s? Bring yr GUN srsly k?

June Morgan @junebug d sexysanchez: Beats anything I got here — see you soon, mmmmm…

Rex Morgan @imthebig @nikitoy: Thot @junebug would never leave — got time for a “lesson”? I made cookies!

“Oh, wait … I guess I really mean ‘d nikitoy’, don’t I … OH CRAP NOT AGAIN!”

Apartment 3-G, 3/17/12

Scott negotiates for an afternoon of Naughty Baby roleplay and gets in waaaaay over his head.

I’m sitting in this week while Josh takes a vacation — no fundraiser this time around, but that “Donate” button still works whenever the spirit moves you. You can reach me at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net with any site administration issues.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Beetle Bailey, 3/15/12

Look, I’m just a simple, privileged man who’s managed to get to the age of 37 without every actually peeling his own potatoes, mostly by being so obviously inept at such things that nobody’s ever assigned me this task and lord knows I’m not volunteering, but even I know that the inside of the potato is white while the peels are brown, so I guess I’m one up on the King Features coloring gnomes. Still, I’ve also never seen a pile of potato peels form into a nebulous demon-head that will probably kill us all, so maybe the color situation is not what I should be focusing on.

Apartment 3-G, 3/15/12

Margo thinks Scott isn’t getting enough love, so she wants to help? NOOOO MARGO WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOOOOUUUU

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Apartment 3-G, 3/14/12

Hmm, Apartment 3-G, do remember that there was once a lady who didn’t want to have kids, but her husband browbeat her into it, and then, when she reacted to motherhood exactly the way you’d think someone who didn’t want kids but was browbeaten into having one would react, everyone she knew decided she was a monster and it was totally 100 percent OK that her husband made a pass at another woman, while they were married? She was named Thérèse, and she was in For Better Or For Worse, and she was, um, somewhat controversial, so perhaps we don’t want to be modeling anybody on her situation too closely? I expect rampant fetus worship from Tommie and her new found obsession with midwifery and Lu Ann and her love of all things tiny and (for the moment) dumber than her, but I have to say I’m kind of disappointed in Margo here. She’s about to bust out laughing and say, “Ha, no, I’m screwing with you, let’s take this six-pack over to Nina right now,” right?

Funky Winkerbean and Crankshaft, 3/14/12

Meanwhile, over in the Funkyverse, the Lady Scapegoats have been permitted by their hitherto malevolent God to claim the state basketball championship. At least they overcame adversity and all that; hateful old Crankshaft appears to be on the verge of some other delight-generating golf triumph (a hole in one? I’m not looking at the last few days’ strips, you can’t make me) thanks to pure dumb luck. Presumably this means that the very fabric of Funky-reality is about to be torn apart from joy overload, so everyone involved needs to enjoy it while they can.

Six Chix, 3/14/12

When you contemplate newspaper comics, do you think to yourself, “Enh, I like the funny drawings and all, but there isn’t enough puking for my taste.” Well, consider their game STEPPED UP.