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Shoe, 9/24/15

“Ha, it’s ironic because I was humiliated in front of my young ward when I tried to buy him something he wanted only to have my tenuous financial situation revealed to him in a very public way! Anyway, I know it’s only 10 a.m., but what’s the cheapest booze you got behind that counter?”

Apartment 3-G, 9/24/15

I’m about as atheist as they get, but even I wouldn’t respond to someone offering to pray for a mutual friend with a sarcastic quip and an extremely wary look, like Tommie does in panel two. “Why not, Lu Ann. It can’t hurt. Unless … you’re not planning on praying to the wrong god, are you? Then it could hurt a lot.”

Funky Winkerbean, 9/24/15

“It was mostly about sex stuff that dad likes. Anyway, have a look, I’m gonna check out WebMD to figure out exactly where on your head you should hit yourself with a hammer to induce short-term amnesia.”

Gil Thorp, 9/24/15

Gil has been extremely crabby about Holly’s Milford High reality show, demanded that he appear on-screen as little as possible, and now we know why: he doesn’t want the inevitable moment in the season when someone else starts doing his coaching for him broadcast nationwide.

Judge Parker, 9/24/15

Wait, Rocky’s back already? The strip where we found he left was only published five weeks ago! In terms of the internal Judge Parker chronology, that’s the equivalent of, what, thirty seconds? Maybe forty-five?

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/24/15

“Hey, wait, with all that money I could just come up here with more interesting people than you! Turns out your work schedule is irrelevant to me now, dad.”

Dennis the Menace, 9/24/15

“‘Cause I do! I bite whoever I want, whenever I want. I’m Dennis the motherfucking Menace, lady!”

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Crankshaft, 9/14/15

I really appreciate the ways in which the dystopic grimness of the Funkyverse is shaping Crankshaft’s Ralph Runs For Mayor plot. Normally we’d have a plucky underdog whose down-home simplicity and, yes, naivety actually turn out to be assets in the race against an arrogant, entrenched incumbent. Instead, we’re seeing what a one-note campaign run by old men who have no political experience and who range from befuddled to angry would actually look like: incompetent, incomprehensible, and offensive by turns. I assume the kangaroo is supposed to represent a “foreign” “species” from “down south” [WINK WINK] and that Ralph is … literally promising to pave the roads of Centerville with the mangled bodies of immigrants? Or else this is just absurdist surrealism, which would be even less effective as a campaigning tactic.

Notice the lovingly depicted valve on that kangaroo’s tail. While this spoils the fun for fans of elder plushiefuckers, it gives me hope that Crankshaft managed to poke a hole in the thing as he crammed it into the pothole, and that it’s slowly deflating behind Ralph as they film this terrible, terrible commercial.

Momma, 9/14/15

Momma is right to be confused. “But … Francis knows I don’t have any friends!”

Dennis the Menace, 9/14/15

“Some magic set. Where are the turtledoves and hares I can sacrifice to the Dark Lord, to beg him to grant me powers beyond those of mortal men?”

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Mark Trail, 9/10/15

Let’s all take a minute to appreciate what a thoughtful nature journalist Mark Trail is. Sure, that box of glowing rods marked by a giant radiation symbol is probably full of radioactive material, but wouldn’t it be embarrassing if a team from the Nuclear Regulatory Commission came out and found a bunch of gag novelty items or something like that? I think once Mark does eventually call them in, and they hear that he dicked around for a few days waiting for special dive suits to be shipped to him and then went poking around himself without any training on how to handle radioactive material, they’ll be glad he didn’t waste their time!

Blondie, 9/10/15

About a year ago I tore into Blondie for obviously having no idea what Twitter was or how it worked, so I now I have to recognize progress: as of September of 2015, Blondie knows exactly what Twitter is and how it works. Be sure to follow me on Twitter and watch how my tweeting rate increases rapidly as my workload and deadlines mount!

Dennis the Menace, 9/10/15

The only employer you ever hear Mr. Wilson talking about is the U.S. Postal Service. So, one job for his whole life, union representation, and a pension on retirement? Story checks out.

Momma, 9/10/15

“Phew! She can’t taste the slow-acting poison after all! The nice man I ordered it from over the Internet was telling the truth!”