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Dennis the Menace, 1/14/22

Look, Alice, if you don’t want your giant jar of evil black goo spilled out all over the floor, unleashing an ancient demonic power that mankind has no defense against, maybe don’t leave it where your five-year-old son can so easily reach it, you know?

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 1/14/22

Snuffy Smith, notorious layabout, card cheater, and chicken thief, definitely doesn’t give a shit about civility or honesty, but chivalry is at its root a code of honor that provides an ideological justification for violent conflicts over women and status, so I suppose that’s something someone embedded in Hootin’ Holler’s world of clan-based feuds would be interested in maintaining.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 1/14/22

It has come to our attention that some of our readers have found our episodes of June dealing with minor medical problems a little too exciting. That’s why we’ve pivoted to “June transparently tries to get out of a conversation with someone she finds annoying,” to keep everyone’s blood pressure at healthy levels.

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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 1/11/23

Look, I get it, if you were in charge of a century-old comics property about hillbillies, you’d have the urge to add new stuff occasionally, which is why we get things like Spark Plug’s Grandson Li’l Sparky. But I refuse to believe that I’ve been reading strips about the tiny, insular hamlet of Hootin’ Holler for more than a decade at this point and this is the first I’ve heard about one of the main characters having a twin sister! Yeah, they have been playing tricks, Loweezy … playing tricks on me, the reader, by pretending they’ve both been living in this town all along! And I don’t appreciate it.

Mary Worth, 1/11/23

“Iris. You know, my friend, Iris? The one who got married here today? Looks like it’s time to ship you off to that facility I’ve already picked out; fortunately I tricked you into signing that power of attorney form a few months back.”

Six Chix, 1/11/23

The thing about puns is that the worse they are, the better they are, making them completely immune to criticism, and the thing about having a syndicated newspaper strip is that if you think of a bad pun, you can draw a cartoon of it and get paid. I’mnot saying I like today’s Six Chix, but I do have to respect it.

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Dustin, 1/7/22

This whole week in Dustin has been about how Dustin’s dad wants to relive his high school glory days as a pole vaulter, and his wife is just absolutely furious about it. It’s been pretty annoying and dull, but I do kind of like today’s strip, in which we learn that, despite being a loathsome jerk, Dustin’s dad has hidden depths, like a strong desire to break out of his boring, safe, middle class existence, possibly by dying.

Mary Worth, 1/7/22

In other annoying and dull things that have been happening this whole week, Zak and Iris’s wedding ceremony has been both boring and drama free. I know we’re all disappointed to see Wilbur though-ballooning positive energy at his ex instead of getting drunk and making a scene, but I do like the juxtaposition here of him, Mary (thought ballooning platitudes, as is her wont) and Dawn, who is experiencing no thoughts at all, just vibes

Gil Thorp, 1/7/22

New Gil Thorp writer Henry Barajas promised on Twitter back in September that Milford’s annual bonfire was coming, and yet football season came and went without it — so it shouldn’t surprise us that that football season ultimately ended in failure. Now, with the school district apparently unable or unwilling to provide the official school-sanctions bonfire we’re used to, the teens of Milford are taking matters into their own hands, holding a forbidden, booze-soaked backwoods bonfire to try to salvage basketball season at least.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 1/7/22

What do we know about Hootin’ Holler? We know that its inhabitants are desperately poor and largely isolated from the national and global economies, and what little economic activity that does take place in the community is centered around subsistence agriculture, illegal alcohol manufacturing, and stealing chickens. If Bonnie Mae couldn’t figure out that this is a bad place to run a fancy-pants “boutique,” that’s on her.