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Crock, 8/25/08

The joke in this comic almost makes sense, but not quite. I suppose that the gag is supposed to be that anyone who could spend two hours talking on any subject must be “really smart”? Even though he’s just spouting lies or ignorance? Anyway, after I finally got my head around what the dialog was supposed to mean, I realized that the little boy is talking to a vulture, what the hell. The terrible carrion-eater is probably just going to lull the kid into complacency with his banter before pecking out his eyes.

B.C., 8/25/08

I wonder how Johnny Hart would feel about the strip he created featuring fewer incomprehensible jokes about Jesus and more goofy jokes about the munchies. I’m feeling pretty good about it, myself.

Phantom, 8/25/08

I managed to avoid the just concluded Phantom story pretty effectively, but now at last we’re getting to what the kids like: red-hot Phantom-on-Mrs.-Phantom-on-private-island action! Careful, O naked heroes, those palm fronds look itchy.

Update: I appear to have been nominated to appear in some sort of hot blogger calendar (page may take a moment to load), as has Ces Marciuliano of Sally Forth fame (yes, he has a blog, too). Anyway, you should vote for one or both of us, if you want to see us pose in our underwear in a calendar or something. Thanks to faithful reader Bookworm for the tip!

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Hi and Lois, 5/10/08

Watch out for Lois’s crazy eyes, Hi! This “spontaneity” she’s experiencing is entirely meth-driven. If the completely barren room in which you’re standing is any indication, “cleaning the attic” is a euphemism for “finding everything of any possible resale value there and hocking it to buy more drugs.”

Spider-Man, 5/10/08

I was surprised as anyone to see this Spider-Man storyline start out with the introduction of a supervillain, even though this strip has debased the notion of “supervillain” to the extent that some chump in a dorky bird suit qualifies. Things got more in line with the Spider-Man I know when our hero was felled by the influenza virus, and today we see that our feathered baddy is actually going to stymied by some random swell in a blue tux in his very first post-prison robbery attempt. Thus, the path is open to the real plotline: endless whining from Peter Parker about how nobody needs him and being a superhero is pointless and he’s wracked with ennui and self-loathing and blah blah blah.

Crock, 5/10/08

Gah! I laughed aloud at Crock today! Curses, all my curmudgeonly street cred is gone, gone!

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Judge Parker, 5/7/08

Hey, kids, welcome to Judge Parker, where nothing ever happens for months and months and months, but when it happens, it really happens! A sexy (admittedly, we can’t see her face, but this being Judge Parker, “sexy” is a good bet) lady terrorist hell-bent on revenge! A cancer-ridden old lady in a wheelchair transformed into an unwilling human bomb! A battle royal between an enraged woman and an ex-Navy SEAL with no legs! Enjoy your next several days of thrilling action before we get back to the boring. In panel two, Momma Steve’s creepy, flesh-colored gag makes her look like some kind of mouthless horror, which hopefully indicates that the denouement of this story will be as deviant as the one in this strip’s pervy trip to France.

Crock, 5/7/08

I’m sort of charmed by the phrase “marked-down polyester from Wal-Mart,” which implies that you can go into the world’s largest retailer and buy great bolts of cloth to take home to your wife, who will sew them into the clothes for you and your children. It reads like it’s been written by someone who’s heard second-hand about developments in retail since the 19th century, but has never actually been in a store per se.

Update: Uh, apparently you can buy fabric at Wal-Mart with which to make your own clothes, like they did in olden days. Ha ha! Josh is a moron!

Ziggy, 5/7/08

Ziggy is so sad and lonely that he’s turned to the bottle; but, far from forgetting his problems, in his drunken state he’s become even more maudlin, and is now just sitting at the table by himself weeping openly. The waiter, profoundly unsettled by the raw emotional pain on display, covers up his discomfort by cracking wise.