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Gasoline Alley, 3/9/10

In order to keep their iron grip on their last remaining pool of paying customers — old people — newspapers are spreading the lie that consuming print media sates your hunger because it supplies you with nutrients as well as information. You should totally be spending your money on the paper rather than cat food, seniors!

Mary Worth, 3/9/10

“I mean, she didn’t love you so much that she wasn’t sleeping with other people, but, uh, free spirit, yeah. Plus I imagine that her career as a Minnie Pearl impersonator was really taking off then, so she couldn’t afford to settle down.”

Crankshaft, 3/9/10

And that’s when Pan and Jeff knew for sure that Crankshaft’s rambling diatribe over dinner the previous week, in which the old man had vowed to “track down and murder each and every one of those mouse-eared bastards while they sleep,” was no idle boast. The police couldn’t stop him. The army couldn’t stop him. They would have to take care of this themselves.

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Gil Thorp, 2/17/10

What Gil Thorp storyline would be complete without a little erotic coaching? Sexy Lady Mudlark basketball star Cassie wipes the sweat off her toned body coquettishly, waiting for her personal trainer/svengali Steve Luhm to sidle up behind her and whisper sweet nothings about “trusting her hands” into her ears. (Yesterday Coach Mrs. Coach Thorp admonished Steve for coaching from the stands, but nothing can stop him from sneaking down courtside to offer a little advice on the down low.)

Unfortunately, the usual baffling sports action occupies panel three, leaving us unable to properly assess whether Steve’s advice was for good or for ill. I’d have guessed “there’s another steal!” would refer to Cassie stealing the ball from her opponent, but the actual image depicts her be-afro’d New Thayer rival firmly in possession. Perhaps the “stealing” she’s doing involves stealing the poor girl’s life-essence, causing her right arm to bend unnaturally at the elbow (I defy you to draw an anatomically probably line from her wrist to her shoulder). This act of sporting witchcraft is a result of a series of incantational gestures made by Cassie’s left or “sinister” hand. Trust it, Cassie! Let the evil flow through you!

Crock, 2/17/10

I have to assume that someone over at Crock central feels bad for creating a character named “Grossie” solely for the purpose of being the butt of fat jokes and ugly jokes, and has now, using his authorial omnipotence, decided to rectify years of abuse by having her bewitch the local legionnaires. While this is baffling from an in-universe perspective, I do have to admit that I kind of like the look of melting-face despair on Supposedly Attractive Woman Whose Name I Forget in panel two, though it’s hard to differentiate it from melting-face confusion or melting-face sarcasm or any other melting-face emotion with which someone in Crock might be afflicted.

Crankshaft, 2/10/10

My goodness, Crankshaft has been taken up bodily to serve at the Right Hand of Our Lord, just like the prophets of old! This makes me feel all the better about not going to heaven when I die.

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Slylock Fox, 2/15/10

Oh, look, Rachel Rabbit is moving up in the world! No longer is she renting the double-wide next to Reeky Rat down at the trailer park; now she’s living in a squalid apartment building, and has apparently started billing herself as “Mrs. Rabbit,” as if Wanda Witch and the other apartment-dwellers care about the legitimacy of her little bunny. But one thing that hasn’t changed is that she’s a pretty irritating neighbor; before she was tattling on Reeky and his ’lectricity-stealin’ ways, and now’s she’s complaining about noise. Those magic spells are too loud for your precious little baby, Rachel? I’m sure living downstairs from the little squaller is no picnic either, considering that your main childcare technique involves turning up the volume on the television. If you need any more proof that Wanda is actually a quite courteous and thoughtful neighbor, note that she’s hovering around the place on her broomstick rather than disturbing those downstairs by clomping about in her high heels.

Anyway, Sly’s exasperated expression seems to indicate that he’s rethinking his plan to volunteer his spare time with the neighborhood mediation center.

Wizard of Id, 2/15/10

Only the Wizard of Id dares to speak the politically incorrect truth: by dedicating a holiday to romantic love, we are starting down a path that leads inexorably towards chicken-fucking.

Pluggers, 2/15/10

Oh, what makes you think he went to first grade, li’l plugger? Gramps is wearing the sly smile of the crafty illiterate.

Crankshaft, 2/15/10

“No, but seriously, I lost all the club’s money at the dog track. What are you broads gonna do about it?”