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Slylock Fox, 9/23/08

Holy mother of God, do I even want to know what the hell is going on in this cartoon? It’s possible that our towheaded youngster is proudly showing off some sort of disassembled taxidermy form, but it seems more likely that he’s going to put on his fursuit and ask the doctor to diagnose his other personality, “Fuzzy Wuzzy.” More disturbing yet is how intrigued the elderly medico is by the whole thing.

Dick Tracy, 9/23/08

In Dick Tracy, Dick learns that Diet Smith’s robocop Traze-R comes with a “mobile transporter,” which is apparently fancy inventor talk for “tractor-trailer truck.” Which the robot needs to get from place to place despite the fact it has, you know, wheels. Dick Tracy remains a howling narrative void of madness, is what I’m trying to say.

Dennis the Menace, 9/23/08

I was going to file this under “crazy and/or stupid” rather than “menacing,” but then I caught sight of the look of panic and distress on the piggy bank’s face. I suppose the torment and murder of anthropomorphic objects has a certain air of menace about it.

Mary Worth, 9/23/08

Toby, are you … going on the Internet? With this total stranger lady sitting right next to you? Have you learned nothing? OH MY GOD SHE COULD BE PHISHING YOU RIGHT NOW!

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Dennis the Menace, 9/9/08

Oh look, lovable scamp Dennis is up at three in the morning, watching … whatever show it is that features adorable bow-tie-wearing bunnies at three in the morning. Either it’s some ’70s kids’ show now being rebroadcast entirely for the benefit of stoners, or that rabbit is appearing only on the Mitchells’ television set, and it’s ordering Dennis to kill, in Aramaic.

Family Circus, 9/9/08

The fact that Dolly considers regurgitated worms to be “junk food” tells you all you need to know about what feeding time in the Keane Kompound is like. For deeper background on why Dolly is the way she is, consider the amount of ambient background radiation in the area necessary to produce the huge, lumpy bird-thing she’s spying through the window.

Gil Thorp, 9/9/08

Gil Thorp’s second hemi-century begins today in fine form, as we see Marty taping his weekly TV show. O Marty Moon, king of all media! Who was it who tousled your hair just so for your big TV appearance? Was it your team of professional stylists? Or was it you, alone, in your own bathroom, before you headed down to your basement, to sit in front of the “set” you fished out of the garbage behind the local CBS affiliate? And by “weekly TV show,” do you mean “insane seven-to-nine-minute drunken ramble about how Gil never wants to hang out with you that you upload to YouTube sporadically?” I think to ask the question is to know the answer.

Mary Worth, 9/9/08

“Hello? Hello? Wait, is this Ian Cameron’s hypnotically smooth and bulbous crotch, flanked on either side by lovingly detailed pants wrinkles around the groinal region? I’m sorry, I think I have the wrong number.”

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Mary Worth, 9/6/08

Dear Mary Worth,

Thank you so very much for your narration box dated 9/6/08, which read, “After hanging up the phone with her bank, Toby continues to reel in shock.” It really put a smile on my face, which is no small feat in these troubled times.

It may seem greedy to ask for more, but can you please add a similar narration box before every single one of Toby’s future appearances in this feature? For instance, after having lunch with Mary, it could say, “After having lunch with Mary, Toby continues to reel in shock.” Or, after greeting Ian on his return from work, we could get, “After kissing her husband on the cheek, Toby continues to reel in shock.” Of course, she’ll have to continue to reel in shock, but since she apparently finds basic interaction with society completely discombobulating, I don’t think this will be much of a stretch.

Your fan,
The Comics Curmudgeon

Family Circus, 9/6/08

So it’s come to this: the Family Circus characters have declared themselves to be gods. Moronic, irritating, melon-headed gods.

Dick Tracy, 9/6/08

“There’s no way the police will be able to stop me now that I have a CB radio!”

Dennis the Menace, 9/6/08

Mrs. Mitchell is looking suspiciously smug here. I’m guessing that this “picnic” is going to climax with Dennis being sold to hillbillies or fed to a bear.