Archive: Beetle Bailey

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Beetle Bailey, 2/1/23

Is the Comic Sans font trademarked in some way? Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t, but the important thing is that writing an email to the boys in legal to find out would cut into time relaxing on the golf course, so let’s just err on the side of safety, shall we?

Pluggers, 2/1/23

So you’re telling me that pluggers are unfamiliar with Simon Peter, Cephas, Prince of the Apostles. St. Peter. The guy at the pearly gates. That guy. Pluggers have never heard of him. You sure about that? You sure about that, Pluggers? I don’t want to get into an argument or anything, but I gotta say that I myself am not so sure about that.

Marvin, 2/1/23

“Oh, do you think having to read about a baby who’s constantly pooping and pissing in his diaper is gross? Well, what if instead of a baby, it was a five year old boy? That would be worse, right? It would be a lot worse. So just think about the stuff you complain about. Because it could get a lot worse.” –the comic strip Marvin, in a threat directed against me personally

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Dick Tracy, 1/28/23

I don’t know why, but I find Art Dekko’s statement that, while he’s hiding from possible spear gun murder, he’ll “have food delivered and such” very funny. He just wants you to know that he’s thought this thing through, OK? And honestly Sue Reel’s reaction is even funnier. Sue, thanks to the new wave of food delivery apps, you can enjoy delicious entrees from just about any restaurant in Neo-Chicago at home, or, in this case, in your storeroom! You may be a character created in 1980 whose name is a pun on “surreal” and who has a mustache in tribute to surrealist artist Salvador Dali, but surely you know that delivery isn’t just for pizza anymore?

Beetle Bailey, 1/28/23

Wow, it seems like the folks over at Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Industries LLC have finally gotten wind of “Drynuary,” a concept that’s at least seventeen years old! Saturday strips are often about how the Halftrack marriage is a hellish prison, but I like that today’s is about the two of them teaming up to defeat the only thing they loathe more than each other: sobriety.

Mary Worth, 1/28/23

Ah, it looks like Estelle and Ed have gotten to the part of the evening where they just say the names of their dishes to one another. That’s good, right? I’ve been out of the dating scene for a while now.

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Gasoline Alley, 1/21/23

Does anyone put a lot of energy into predicting how Gasoline Alley plots will get resolved? Like, no one does, right? Not even me? Well, let’s pretend we all do for the sake of this next joke, OK? [clears throat] Wow, I don’t think any of us had “Santa’s prayers were answered by a hot new she-elf showing up, causing Bunky to abandon his plans for an exciting, independent adventure and instead pledge another century of his eternal (?) life to serving Santa, due to horniness” on our Gasoline Alley plot resolution bingo card, which is a thing we all definitely maintain!

Bizarro, 1/21/23

I guess Bizarro has finally figured out what it takes to get noticed on this blog, and it’s weird interspecies sex stuff. One thing I enjoy about this panel is that usually in gags where a fish has crawled up onto a barren shore, we’re supposed to imagine it representing the first vertebrate colonizing the land sometime in the late Devonian period, but here our brave fish encounters a tiger, meaning that at the very earliest we’re several hundred million years later in the Miocene. That fish isn’t an evolutionary pioneer or anything, it just wants to fuck a mammal.

Beetle Bailey, 1/21/23

I’m sorry, I think all of us have always assumed over years reading this strip that Sarge is functionally illiterate. This “joke” is not very good, and certainly not worth forcing me to completely restructure my idea of what Sarge is all about to accommodate the possibility that he can write a restaurant review! “But Josh,” you’re probably saying, “this is a one-off joke that will never be referenced again,” but sorry, it’s canon now and I have to update the wiki and everything, how dare they do this to me personally