Archive: Crock

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Crock, 7/7/17

If you’re interested in a comic strip with jokes about working in a diner and navel rings, written by someone who only has a passing familiarity with how restaurant staffing, salad preparation, and navel rings work, then today’s Crock is for you, my friend!

Dennis the Menace, 7/7/17

Nice to see that the Mitchells are continuing to enjoy their psychosexual beach vacation!

Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/7/17

Welp, looks like Rex Morgan has wrapped up its thrilling “some teens are gay!” adventure and is ready to embark on a brand new thrilling “the Internet is a great way to reconnect with long-lost friends!” adventure.

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Crock, 6/22/17

I like the black smoke rising in the background of the strip; it implies that Poulet’s defeat has had devastating consequences, but gives you room to fill in the blanks about their exact nature. Has some Algerian village been reduced to a smoldering ruin by insurgents because the inhabitants were too accommodating to the foreign occupiers who, when it came down to it, were unable to protect them? Was the Legion’s fort overrun by rebels and burned to the ground as a hated symbol of French authority? Are Crock and Poulet standing on the quay in Algiers or Oran, awaiting the boat that will evacuate them to the métropole, watching the city burn in an orgy of retaliatory violence as colonial rule collapses into a nightmarish power vacuum? “I wish life had a backspace key!” Poulet quips, referring to 130 years of brutal conquest and exploitation.

Mary Worth, 6/22/17

Haha, whoops, looks like I was wrong and it’s Esme who’s going to be tumbling into the wine-dark sea, never to be seen again. This happened because the ship lurched, so Katie didn’t even have to make a choice or feel morally responsible! Remember, kids, smoking is bad, and so is attempted adultery, and so is violating workplace regulations about sexual relationships with customers. If you do any of those things, you’ll drown, probably!

Family Circus, 6/22/17

Are you asking if Big Daddy Keane has noticed that the forward progression of time has ground to a halt, and that he’s doomed to live an eternity with his children never aging, never growing up and leaving the house, just hanging around and saying the darndest things, forever? Look at his face; I’m pretty sure he’s noticed.

Hagar the Horrible, 6/22/17

Ha ha, it’s funny because Lucky Eddy thought he was going to die in agony, so he pissed himself!

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Mary Worth, 6/6/17

I was going to make some snide comment about how mariachi music is from Jalisco, on Mexico’s Pacific coast, and totally out of place here in the Yucatan, but heck, you can hire a mariachi band for your wedding in Tulum! You can hire a jug band in Staten Island! Cultures are becoming more and more homogenous as people become more mobile, and as global elite tourism demands to be catered to by specific forms of cultural output! Mary and Toby had better get deeply margarita-drunk while wearing sombreros by the end of this storyline, is what I’m trying to say. Meanwhile, it’s sad that Haiti’s rich cultural heritage has was ignored last month in favor of their unfortunate history of accidental bathroom imprisonment.

Beetle Bailey, 6/6/17

What with the end of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, the idea that two men in the military might be involved in a secret S&M relationship no longer holds a transgressive thrill. That’s why Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Industries LLC has moved on to “jell-offing,” a sexual fetish where someone can only achieve orgasm if his or her genitals are nestled in a slowly curdling blob of delicious JELL-O® brand pudding.

Blondie, 6/6/17

It’s pretty sad that Blondie had to hire top-notch Web designers and food photographers to create an elaborate website like this for her catering business. Taking photos of each and every single dish she offers definitely has diminishing returns as advertising, but I guess it makes her feel better to know that, if Dagwood’s going to spend his time at work masturbating to food pornography, at least he’s masturbating to her food pornography.

Crock, 6/6/17

It’s kind of odd that Otis, who is one of the more frequently used members of Crock’s cast of characters, has been reduced to a tiny, glowering, wordless gnome-thing in this strip. But I guess it’s also odd that he had “Show and Tell” at school and didn’t bring in his best friend, a talking bird who feasts on the rotting flesh of the dead.

Shoe, 6/6/17

nggnnngghghggngn

THERE IS NO HALL

YOU’RE IN A SINGLE ROOM INSIDE A TREE TRUNK

WHY DON’T YOU SAY “DOWN THE BRANCH” OR SOMETHING

JUST ACKNOWLEDGE THAT THEY’RE BIRDS LIVING FULL-TIME IN TREES FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE

GOD DAMN IT