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Luann, 7/12/11

I’ve been reading Luann long enough to recognize that when there’s a nameplate sitting on a desk in the third panel with a name written in more or less legible Chicago font, it’s supposed to be meaningful; however, I haven’t been reading long enough to know who “Ann Eiffel” is. Quick, to the Luann Wikipedia page! Said Wikipedia page is of course ludicrously over-detailed and has already provided plenty of fodder for the Wikipedia-themed Tumblr I help run; however, I shouldn’t knock it, because it provided the crucial information that Ann is a sex predator of indeterminate romantic orientation, having been fired from her bookstore-management job because of her lustful obsession with Bernice and/or Zane (Zane being Bernice’s wheelchair-bound love interest, circa 2002). Combine that with the way she lingers over “appreciative” in panel two and I think we all know that we have Brad WeenieWorld Harass-O-Thon ’11 ahead of us, which I cannot even tell you how excited I am about it.

Opening discussion question for Brad WeenieWorld Harass-O-Thon ’11: Is it easier to sexually harass people at WeenieWorld than at other companies, because you could always plausibly claim that all your inappropriate weenie-themed remarks were in fact work related?

Blondie, 7/12/11

My favorite part about this cartoon is that Blondie is just hanging out inside, chattering on the phone, letting all the numerologically fixated lovebirds stew out in the heat. It’s even funnier because, seeing as Blondie and Tootsie are the only Blondie’s Catering employees, I’m assuming that they’re only going to be able to cater the wedding for the first couple in line.

Mark Trail, 7/12/11

See, this is what happens when you overuse bold in your word balloons: when Sheriff Whatshisface finally realizes that his son was the Moccasin Thief all along, the only way his hurt and betrayal can be properly expressed is through yellow lettering. Yellow: the color of paternal heartbreak.

Mary Worth, 7/12/11

At first I though Jeff was putting together a spreadsheet to prove with science and numbers that Mary should marry him. But in fact it appears that he’s long ago given up that hope, and now is only focused on how lucrative her meddling powers are.

Ziggy, 7/12/11

Oh, Ziggy, I think your goldfish is quite well aware of the mammalian nature of whales (or, as fish call them, “warm-blooded sea-frauds”). I think that evil grin is there because he fervently believes that the man-whale battle depicted in Moby Dick is just the opening salvo in an intra-mammal civil war that will allow the fish to pick up the pieces and rule supreme in the Neo-Devonian golden age.

Ballard Street, 7/12/11

I’m pretty sure this is the first time an actual puddle of urine has been depicted on the comics pages. I would have guessed that Marvin would the be perpetrator.

Beetle Bailey, 7/12/11

The easiest way to get me to stop making jokes about Beetle Bailey’s Beetle-and-Sarge-are-lovers subtext: turn it into Beetle-and-Sarge-are-lovers text. Boring!

6 Chix, 7/12/11

Meanwhile, in Six Chix, some lady is giving a genie a handjob.

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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 7/10/11

“’Cause if there’s one thing we city slickers and country folk can agree on, it’s that we wish women wouldn’t talk! Haw haw!”

Dennis the Menace, 7/10/11

“He is peeing all over the floor, though. Why’d you tell him you were going to take him out and then not do it? Jerk!”

Hi and Lois, 7/10/11

Based all the all-too-regular shape of the font in the last two panels, I’ll guess “comics letterer at Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Industries LLC” is another job that’s been taken over by machines.

Panel from Beetle Bailey, 7/10/11

At last we know why General Halftrack is forever in charge of Camp Swampy, the Army’s least prestigious posting: his pacifist leanings render him unfit for front-line service.

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Beetle Bailey, 6/30/11

Oh, look, Sarge is suffering symbolic humiliation, wallowing in filth while shadowy figures and freakish beasts laugh at him! Looks like we’ve invaded his dream again. Don’t worry, Sarge, we’re not enjoying this Freudian hellscape any more than you are.

Funky Winkerbean, 6/30/11

Well, looks like Susan is going to slink awkwardly back into the sunset, after lunging at Les and becoming an object of derision for it (because, you know, Les, gross). I like the sudden look of manic joy on her face in panel two: “No matter where I am in the world, I’ll watch your movie obsessively, because that will be the only way I can be close to you?” “Don’t bother,” Les replies, “any theater showing the film will also be covered by the restraining order.”

Ziggy, 6/30/11

Have you ever wondered what forms of human entertainment would sexually arouse your pets? Well, wonder no more! Here’s to another 40 years of queasy-making perversion from Ziggy!

Hagar the Horrible, 6/30/11

Hagar continues its semi-informed meandering through Norse history, and it looks like it’s hit the Little Ice Age. I look forward to watching the characters all die of starvation.