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Better Half, 9/8/13

One of the things I appreciate about the Better Half is that on Sunday, instead of just cramming in a bunch of unrelated panels that could have easily stood alone as dailies like the Lockhorns does, it offers a selection united by a subtle but definite theme. Today’s theme: Stanley hates himself! He doesn’t like the way he looks; he feels like his life is a malfunctioning piece of software that he wishes he could reset back to some long ago pristine state; and he’s eager to shift the blame for his many manifest failings onto a too-permissive society. Obviously all this anxiety and self-loathing leads him to panic that Harriet will leave him, but he needn’t worry: she just doesn’t have the energy to go find anyone better!

Family Circus, 9/8/13

As usual, the Keane pets are wearing little secret smiles. They quite frankly look awfully smug for a couple of dogs who are destined for damnation in eternal hellfire.

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Beetle Bailey, 8/28/13

“I guess he’s a pile of shattered bones and mangled organs, mostly! Aw, Sarge looks kind of sad, like he vaguely regrets beating Beetle to death in a savage frenzy of violence.”

Mark Trail, 8/28/13

“That is a good job, Rusty — and speaking of jobs, isn’t about time you started contributing financially to this household? You’re not an actual blood relation, so it’s not like we have an obligation to keep feeding you free of charge. Say, I hear the new glove factory in town is looking for line workers! They’ll pay you 50 cents an hour and all the irregularly stitched gloves you can fit into a gunny sack!”

Crankshaft, 8/28/13

“I’m not really sure what Rocky Rhodes’s name is supposed to say? I guess it was meant to be punny, years back when we first introduced this character, but who can really remember now.”

Family Circus, 8/28/13

“Mommy, is Grandma a filthy foreigner? Is our bloodline tainted? Can we only be redeemed by cleansing this entire condo complex with purifying fire?”

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Dennis the Menace, 8/24/13

Dennis dreams of fleas, monstrously huge fleas, fleas the size of dogs, fleas with a terrible thirst for blood that’s proportionate to their size, fleas that sink their awful probisci into hapless, screaming victims and drain them in an instant, then leap dozens of feet after the panicked citizens, covering the distance faster than any poor human can run. Dennis dreams of putting collars and leashes these beasts and bending them to his will, of gathering a bloodsucking army of nightmare-insects. Dennis is clearly increasing his menace levels in a hurry.

Family Circus, 8/24/13

“When will the lustful sin-urges finally leave their bodies and their minds? When will they finally be able to live together in chastity, like you two do?”

Blondie, 8/24/12

The joke is that Dagwood’s dead, right? He used to be alive, but now he’s dead?