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Crock, 2/19/22

Giant zipper running down the middle of the desert, revealing the Crock-world to be a baffling simulacrum that defies all attempts to make sense of it? Actually good — no, actually great. Best Crock ever, no notes.

Hi and Lois, 2/19/22

This is a middling joke on its own, but what makes it actually good is that you have to imagine the days and weeks of spiraling into drunken, dysfunctional madness that led up to this point.

Beetle Bailey, 2/19/22

Killer is about to get too horny and then die of a massive heart attack. To be clear, that’s actually a good thing.

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Dustin, 2/4/22

“I mean, why would I stress about that? That whole thing is Dustin’s generation’s problem, and I don’t even like him! Anyway, if anyone needs me for the next hour, I’ll be in the bathroom, shitting.”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/4/22

Wow, it’s kind of amazing that Rex and June spent so much endless and extremely uninteresting time musing about whether Sarah could emotionally handle the publicity and fame of being a big-shot author about a cat who’s also a cop, and yet apparently didn’t bother checking to see if the Morgan family could legally and financially handle it if she got sued. Was this guy their lawyer then? He’d better hope he wasn’t, because Rex in panel three definitely looks like he’s going to murder whatever lawyer fucked this up, right before he murders Kyle Vidpa.

Beetle Bailey, 2/4/22

Hey, remember in the ’90s, when potato chip companies tried to market chips made with a zero-calorie fat substitute called “Olestra” despite the fact that they had to put a label on the bags that said, in a phrase that I assume was the end product of a lot of hilarious back-and-forth with the FDA, that they caused “loose stools”? Frito Lay’s version of these chips were marketed under the WOW brand, something that just popped into my mind, probably for no reason.

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Hi and Lois, 1/22/22

You have to respect the unspoken shorthand these two best pals share. If they were mere acquaintances, Thirsty would have to do a lot more hemming and hawing about how, gosh, it really is cold out, huh, and getting a little dark, wow, maybe, uh, maybe if you’re making dinner, if it isn’t too much trouble, I mean … and so on. But no, he can jump right to “I haven’t eaten since I drunkenly fucked up in some way I no longer remember at 10 am and I can’t feel my feet, help me out, buddy, will ya?”

Beetle Bailey, 1/22/22

Look, I don’t have any secret inside knowledge about how the comics are made, or about which strips are the vision of a single creative mind and which are put out by workshops where gag writers and visual artists work in tandem. All I’m saying is that I have a hard time believing that anyone would think a strip about getting your palm read would be a good idea if they were the same person who drew hands that looked like that.