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Dennis the Menace, 9/10/20

Well to be honest does anybody actually read Blondie, 9 Chickweed Lane, or Judge Parker?

Judge Parker, 9/10/20

Oops, I guess somebody does! Ahem so it looks like Ronnie Huerta is headed back to L.A. without Neddy, who has rediscovered the charms of room and board on Abby’s dime in rustic Cavelton. But I’m torn. On the one hand, Ronnie was the sassy gf who called Neddy on her copious B.S. — an endless, unpleasant, and valuable public service. But on the other, she’s one of a class of characters in Judge Parker and Sally Forth who daily undermine, hijack, or derail everything the main characters say. You never really finish a conversation with her, Norton, Toni Bowen, Sally’s team at the office, or Ted Forth without them steering it off into some metanarrative, stunt, non sequitur, distraction, hallucination, or wisecrack. Look, she’s doing it right up there! It’s annoying, and it mucks up the pace, which in the case of Judge Parker is legendarily slow to begin with.

So c’mon, Ronnie! Let Neddy gush about Cavelton for a few insincere minutes before you shut her down and hug it out. It’s probably the last thing you’ll do before you flicker out of existence forever, so make it a good one! Say hi to Aria, Chad Duncan, and the Thorp kids!

Gasoline Alley, 9/10/20

Idiot rustics attempt some extremely low-stakes con, part XXVII.

Funky Winkerbean, 9/10/20

With any luck, your corpse will be Board certified!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Curtis, 9/5/20

Classic misdirection — the weed is under the mattress. And he probably smokes the banana peels, too.

Dennis the Menace, 9/5/20

Using his media platform to trash a hallowed American brand: pretty menacing! You can almost hear him growl, “You’re next, Sara Lee.”

9 Chickweed Lane, 9/5/20

In the sex-based economy of 9 Chickweed Lane, the unit of currency is the Boink. But after 12 years’ relentless overcopulation of the money supply, that currency has become utterly debased.

Funky Winkerbean, 9/5/20

And by, “the planet,” I mean, “whatever is in my field of vision right now.” [To self] “I wonder where people go when I turn my head.”

Judge Parker, 9/5/20

Still more useless word-gunk. If this Producer gig doesn’t work out, Ellen can get a job in Corporate HR anywhere in the World.

Phantom, 9/5/20

I am totally asking Aunt Lumpy’s stylist to give her some of that awesome sea-hair!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Dennis the Menace, 9/2/20

Dennis using some gross small animal to drive away Margaret, who has only ever wanted to love him, is the typical level of menace we expect from this strip. However, the fact that he’s dressed in an extremely fancy magician’s outfit to do it, complete with bow tie and pocket square? It’s dorky enough to seem less menacing on the surface, but speaks of a commitment to the project that is in fact quite menacing indeed.

Gil Thorp, 9/2/20

And speaking of bodies, despite the fact that we’re living in the futuristic year 2020, we’re still trapped in our sad meat prisons, forced to lift slabs of metal endlessly over a period of months just to gain a slight advantage on the football field where we slam our flesh-husks against one another, risking permanent damage in the process. Imagine the day when we’re able to upload our minds into a virtual world, freeing ourselves to exist as beings of pure thought! Imagine how transcendant our competitions will be then! Mudlark football is a mere placeholder until that blessed day, a pale shadow of what is surely to come.