Archive: Beetle Bailey

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Apartment 3-G, 10/24/15

The sad fate of Apartment 3-G is apparently not quite official enough for Wikipedia, but Mark Trail artist James Allen, prompted by my post, got in touch with King Features and got confirmation that the strip is on its way out. This is obviously really depressing to me, but I’m going to try to keep it together and give the strip the best send-off I can, which is to say I’ll mock it with affection till it’s in the grave. At least we’re finally going to get the resolution to the one storyline that’s nagged at us for years: the will-they-or-won’t-they romance between Margo’s parents, who are presumably going to get married in the hospital chapel while a comatose Margo’s respirator whirrs in the background. “I haven’t been a great husband, Gabby,” says the man who was married to someone else when he knocked Gabby up, then forced that woman to raise Margo as her own, then had her bundled away to a private “psychiatric facility” upstate. Oh, hey, remember how said wife referred to Martin as “my husband” during the plotline where she came back and tried to kill him? What if they never formally got divorced? What if this turns into a real Jane Eyre-type situation, with “upstate” just a code for “this hospital where Margo is now, which is probably north of the park or something?” That would be an amazing send-off, honestly, if a crazed Bobbie Merrill were to burn the place down in a fit of madness and kill every last character.

Beetle Bailey, 10/24/15

General Halftrack’s expression of genuine despair, as he pleads with his clergyman to explain why he feels so spiritually adrift, why he’s unable to feel the presence of his Creator, is so vivid and poignant that I felt actively angry about Chaplain Stainglass’s flippant answer. I consoled myself by imagining that he was in fact being very literal. “Ah, yes, it’s possible that you’ve been calling … the wrong number … if you get my drift” [winks] [passes General Halftrack a piece of paper with “WORSHIP LORD MOLOCH” written on it]

Pluggers, 10/24/15

Look, guys, pluggers just have to go to the bathroom a lot, OK? They don’t enjoy getting occasional whiffs of urine or feces while they’re dining. That’s just a rumor, just a disgusting rumor, and they’re tired of you spreading it around.

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The Phantom, 10/23/15

“He looks like my son, but…! This young man is busy feeding his mind and imagination, whereas my son is a notorious dullard who would stuff this sandwich mindlessly into his maw, dribbling mayonnaise all over the delicate, ancient tomes!”

Apartment 3-G and Beetle Bailey, 10/23/15

NOOOO BEETLE DON’T IGNORE SYMPTOMS

IT’S TOO LATE FOR MARGO BUT IT’S NOT TOO LATE FOR YOU

Herb and Jamaal, 10/23/15

Jamaal is straight-up gonna fuck that jar of water, flour, and yeast.

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Crankshaft, 10/13/15

You might remember the Crankshaft strip from last month in which our heroes jammed an inflatable kangaroo into a pothole for a campaign commercial. I found it completely baffling, but several commenters patiently explained that it was a joke about the potholes being so deep they reach all the way to Australia. At least one person pointed out that the more typical metaphor would involve “digging a hole to China,” which is indeed the theme of today’s strip/commercial, going back to that same well. I’m honestly not sure if the fact that Ralph’s one-note campaign is just repeating itself endlessly is itself supposed to be the joke or if we just get one of these a month because, you know, why not.

Six Chix, 10/13/15

Hey lady, relax: Talking Heads broke up in 1991, with a fair amount of acrimony among the band members. If by some chance they did reunite, they’d probably do a reunion tour, or maybe even record a new album, but at any rate they’d be much more focused on music than telling you that coffee’s bad for you, OK? If David Byrne says it solo, it doesn’t count, so don’t worry about that.

Judge Parker, 10/13/15

Let’s not forget that Neddy’s big plan for this factory is literally to hire old people who are already on Medicare and Social Security so she doesn’t have to pay for their health insurance or retirement. This seemed like a great money-saving scheme at the time, but she hadn’t factored in the need to build elevators to accomodate the dozens of rascal scooters that would soon be whirring all over the factory floor.

Beetle Bailey, 10/13/15

Remember, if only straight men work on building sex robots, then a huge potential market will go untapped.