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Beetle Bailey, 10/2/24

Hello, faithful readers! You might recall that last week I opined that Beetle Bailey had abandoned the spirit, though not the letter, of Miss Buxley Wednesday by producing technically Buxley-inclusive content that nobody could possibly be aroused by. Well, it seems that the bigwigs at Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Industries LLC have listened to my reasoned critique and delivered two panels of Miss Buxley in all her miniskirted glory. Sure, she’s as crudely drawn as ever, but she’s waving her arms around frantically and yelling right next to a laser printer that’s going crazy and spewing out paper, and I’m reasonably sure that a sizable minority of you could talk yourselves into getting off to that, if you really put in the work.

Pluggers, 10/2/24

I had always assumed that actual short-order cooks are plugger short-order cooks? I mean, I guess I haven’t been keeping tabs on the hierarchies, but do you mean to tell me that this underpaid, manually demanding profession is coastal elitist-coded now? That real pluggers are at home seething with class resentment at short-order cooks because they use fancy stoves to cook? By god, pluggers just eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and they like it! They don’t even toast the bread! Do you toast the bread, like some kind of communist? I’d blame Hulu’s hit show The Bear for this change in attitude, as it shows short-order cooks having aspirations beyond their station, but (a) no plugger subscribes to a “streaming service” and (b) if they did, as horrible man-animal chimeras, their primary reaction to the show would be confusion that nobody on it is actually a bear.

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Beetle Bailey, 9/30/24

Today, most food service in the U.S. military is outsourced to contractors, and one of the military’s most awesome powers is the ability to deploy a fully operational Burger King to a combat zone within 24 hours. But Beetle Bailey remembers an earlier time, when cooks would’ve been soldiers themselves — my grandfather enlisted during World War II and spent the war stateside making meals in bulk for soldiers about to ship out to the Pacific, for instance, and it only occurred to me reading this strip that I never knew what his rank was. Did he outrank a sergeant? Could he, within the bounds of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, have ordered a private to prevent his sergeant from gaining access to the company’s food stores, using deadly force, if necessary? Much to think about.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/30/24

Oh wow, Wanda, just casually demonstrating your ability to cross your fingers right in front of your trigger finger-striken boyfriend? Flexible finger privilege much????

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Beetle Bailey, 9/25/24

Once upon a time, your average newspaper reader looked forward to the middle of the week with eager anticipation. That’s because they knew that Wednesday was “Miss Buxley Wednesday,” an opportunity to turn to the comics page and briefly become horny from looking at a crude drawing of an attractive blonde woman in a skimpy black dress. But then we all got older, especially the old man who was the blonde woman’s boss, and while we’re still going through the Wednesday motions, nobody’s getting horny anymore, not really. Instead, the old man is getting exasperated by his subordinate, and the blonde woman, even more crudely drawn than before, is quietly typing away in the background, presumably grateful that nobody is getting horny at her.

Dick Tracy, 9/25/24

Speaking of letdowns, if you were a mysterious alien being with innate biological powers, a command of advanced technologies, and a vague plan to conquer humanity, how would you think your Wednesday would go? Probably you wouldn’t guess that you’d be spending it going through some file cabinets, right? But that’s just how it happens sometimes. Into everyone’s life, a little file cabinet searching must fall, even into the lives of aliens from the Moon.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/25/24

Hey guys! Did you know that trigger finger happens with a tendon sheath is inflamed and creates a temporary inability to straighten a finger or thumb? Pretty neat, huh? Not sure exactly what you’re supposed to do about it, but if we’re lucky, we might find out soon!

Shoe, 9/25/24

Oh, the Perfesser’s refill isn’t scheduled for another week but he needs more sleeping pills now? Interesting, interesting. Look, I’m not saying a “the Perfesser gets addicted to downers” would be a great new direction for this strip, but it’d probably be better than [spends 45 seconds trying to come up with a funny and pithy description of what exactly Shoe has been getting at for the past 20 years, then fails and gives up] whatever it’s doing now.