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So ends the Spring 2010 Comics Curmudgeon Fundraiser. Thank you, generous readers!

Sally Forth, 3/27/10

Panel 1: The Sallies have arranged a pleasant evening for you, Ted. Do not distract them.
Panel 2: See? You scared one off. Also, Jackie will now marry Ralph. It’s the universe, Ted. Don’t toy with it.

Apartment 3-G, 3/27/10

Dr. Bryant, because he is an idiot, will trust Dr. Papagoras’s professional discretion in this matter.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 3/27/10

Cucumbers … what?!! Pickle relish? A cooling summer salad? Rejuvenation of delicate skin around the eyes? God damn you, Jughaid!

Dick Tracy, 3/27/10

Dick will not get his peace and quiet, and the caller is, in fact, quite serious. But the call is not for him. Dick Tracy is a web of lies.

Gil Thorp, 3/27/10

I dunno — looks to me like he’s playing defense there in panel three. This sports action is so confusing. But then —

Blondie, 3/27/10

Hey, that’s a pretty good look for Dagwood. Blondie, not so much.

That’s it for me; Josh will be back Sunday unless he gets waylaid or, y’know, tired or something. I had a really fun week – thanks, everybody!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Judge Parker, 3/20/10

“You should get a reward for this!” exclaims Judge Randy, waving a wad of cash left by some plaintiff’s attorney. “I mean, everybody gets rewards . . . like, for everything, all the time — don’t they? I sure do! Rewards are cool! You like my new watch? It was a reward! April, too — very rewarding! Hey, walk to my car with me . . . I bet there’s a twenty in it for ya!”

Between Friends, 3/20/10

Better health begins with “Shut the hell up!” Take that first step today!

Apartment 3-G, 3/20/10

“Why am I going home to an empty apartment? Lu Ann is there!”

Momma, 3/20/10

Sonja’s husband died of natural causes, yet no one will believe it wasn’t suicide.

Blondie, 3/20/10

It was wild, wasn’t it? But it’s spring now — enjoy!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Panels from Blondie, 3/14/10

Sunday’s Blondie as a whole, in which Dagwood chases (or is chased by?) a tiny owl that may or may not be a figment of his imagination through his own house is itself a worthwhile bit of fine entertaining madness. Still, I have to say that the two throwaway panels on their own constitute a delightfully weird bit of art that deserves to be showcased in isolation. Dagwood’s just trotting along, presumably from the couch to the refrigerator, or from bed to the bath, hands in pockets, when he gets WHOO’d at. I love that his immediate reaction is not fear or panic at this unfamiliar sound, but just a mere and casual “what?” as if he could work this whole thing out if only he could hear it better.

Panel from Mary Worth, 3/14/10

Mary Worth’s epigraphical madness continues, as she’s moved beyond indie rock darlings like Leonard Cohen and Daniel Johnston to late 19th/early 20th century radical Emma Goldman.

SEPARATED AT BIRTH???

If it turns out that all of Mary’s seemingly petty meddling has been part of a long-term plan to further the cause of anarcho-syndicalist revolution, I for one will be very impressed.