Post Content

Beetle Bailey, 9/27/19

What’s your favorite disturbing detail here? A lot of people are going to say it’s that the fake parents have no legs, but I’m going to go with the fact that the creator of this little diorama has repurposed the PA system in this room for nagging parental dialogue, so that it clearly isn’t coming from their eternally open but eternally silent painted-on mouths.

Crankshaft, 9/27/19

This week’s Crankshaft, presumably inspired by someone spending a lot of time at book fairs, has been giving us a gently parodic tour of the various silly types you might see at a book fair. Today’s specimen: an author who actually wants someone to buy his book and is actively taking steps to catch the interest of potential customers, what a whore

Mary Worth, 9/27/19

“At least you’re trying. On to a different topic: have you heard from your father, who’s never tried anything and gives up on things extremely easily?”

Funky Winkerbean, 9/27/19

“No hilarity ensued”: The Funky Winkerbean mission statement.

Judge Parker, 9/27/19

Oh, hey, remember how Abbey was going to turn her opulent estate into a bed and breakfast? Well, today’s the today when she thinks to herself, “Wait, I’m, like, super duper rich, why do I have a job in the service industry all of the sudden? Fuck this.”

Post Content

Gil Thorp, 9/3/19

Folks, I want you to cast your mind back to the year 2007, a much simpler and more innocent time, when we first saw Coach Thorp announcing the football team’s starters in front of what seemed to be a conflagration of some kind. This was the Milford bonfire, and it became an annual event. In 2008 the kids were throwing up devil horns in honor of the hellish inferno. 2009? Pumping fists. In 2010 the players started giving speeches, in 2011 the column of fire rose into the sky, and in 2012 Gil declared the bonfire was the only fire in the world, a symbol of the fire that burns inside each of us. In 2013 innocent cheerleaders were sacrificed to the flames, and in 2014 a dude named Jarrod, who would go on to lose the starting quarterback job, gave a wild-eyed speech as the fire burned. The guy who took Jarrod’s place led the Mudlarks to their first championship in years, and the next fall began with a fiery victory celebration.

And then … for four long years … nothing. The bonfire vanished from Mudlark lore without a trace, and it seemed like only I was keeping the flame alive, so to speak. I had given up hope on ever lay eyes on a Milford bonfire again, so you can imagine how happy I felt to see the smoke starting to rise from that woodpile in panel three. We’re seeing it just as it’s about to burst into flame! And sure, “Toast Oakwood” and “Fire It Up” are extremely cheesy signs, but you know what? None of these kids were even around in 2015. They’re having to reconstruct this tradition from whispered tales of times past. It’s gonna take them a year or two to get back in the groove.

Mary Worth, 9/3/19

Oh, Dawn. Oh, dumb, dumb, lovestruck, horny Dawn. There’s only one thing Hugo’s been telegraphing more obviously than the fact that he sees your romance as nothing more than a summer fling, and it’s that he thinks America is lame. It’s like you don’t want us to feel even a little sorry for you.

Crankshaft, 9/3/19

Ha ha! But seriously, folks, Crankshaft has never been in love. He’s simply not capable of it!

Post Content

Crankshaft, 8/27/19

Consecutive days without a properly constructed joke in Crankshaft: 238  0.

Gasoline Alley, 8/27/19

Aside from shouting his name at everybody, Physician’s Assistant Peter Glabella‘s gimmick is empathetic imitation: he hurts when his patients hurt, burps when they burp, gets thirsty when they’re dehydrated. So we scoured Gasoline Alley for somebody he could imitate who isn’t insufferably annoying. No luck.

Pluggers, 8/27/19

Grammy Bear has banished her own son from the house for the abomination of marrying a kangaroo. Apparently he’s still allowed to use the outhouse.

— Uncle Lumpy