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Beetle Bailey, 9/18/09

Wow, I’m not sure who reeks of desperation more here: Sgt. Snorkel, wandering despondently around Camp Swampy in the middle of the night because he can’t be with his true love Beetle, or Sgt. Lugg, who has given up on having Sarge acknowledge any kind of affection for her and is now just offering no-strings-attached sex. Sarge is sad and lonely enough to take her up on it, but obviously he needs to get himself good and drunk first.

Blondie, 9/18/09

I’m a 35-year-old who spends much of his time writing a blog about Mary Worth and Apartment 3-G, so obviously I’m not “hip” and “with it” when it comes to the kids today, but: really? I always thought of Crocs as being dorky and suburban, not the sort of thing the kids would use to drive teachers crazy and “push the buttons” of anyone in authority. (Thanks for using the quote marks there, Blondie, as otherwise I would have assumed that some literal button-pushing was going on.) I suppose upon reflection that Crocs have all the necessary attributes for being a punk rock accessory, seeing as they’re both ugly and uncomfortable.

Hi and Lois, 9/18/09

Speaking of punk rock, here’s one of those scary, crazy, anything-goes Webcomics artists! Man, they’re a bunch of angry radicals, aren’t they! And why wouldn’t they be, with their failure to make as much money as the 50 or so widely syndicated newspaper comics artists? Don’t worry, my pink-haired friend; someday your son will be smugly paying gag writers to churn out daily installments of the strip you created before heading out to the golf course, right up to the point when the medium in which its published goes bankrupt.

Family Circus, 9/18/09

“I’m diggin’ up all the pets we buried and piecing together bits of their corpses to make a Frankenstein animal monster! Should I reanimate the dead matter using dark magic or perverted science?”

Ziggy, 9/18/09

Ziggy thinks that his parrot should know something about Quetzalcoatl, the fearsome flying snake god of the Aztecs! That’s because Ziggy experienced a psychotic break from reality, many years ago.

Speaking of breaks, psychotic and otherwise … I’m takin’ the next week off! But don’t worry, your favorite Uncle Lumpy will be here to amuse you. See you next Saturday!

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Family Circus, 9/17/09

Grandma knows that she’ll only be given time to tend to her methodical clothes-folding in peace if she manages to say something so confusing to whatever idiot grandchild is jabbering at her that they’ll wander off in despair. Fortunately for her, her grandchildren are very easy to confuse.

Funky Winkerbean, 9/17/09

Ah, yes, why not just have the text push out the boring pictures entirely from here on in, so we can sit back and enjoy panel after panel of self-justification?

Luann, 9/17/09

The inside of Brad’s head is even more troubled than I could have imagined. For one thing, he apparently believes his parents’ marriage to be a loveless sham.

Gil Thorp, 9/17/09

Say what you will about Marty Moon, but you can never doubt his total commitment to his job. Today, for instance, he bravely continues his play-by-play of the Milford football season opener, despite the fact that he’s clearly been abducted and sealed up in a wooden shipping crate.

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Herb and Jamaal, 9/8/09

Perhaps stung by allegations of rampant nonspecificity, Herb and Jamaal has decided to go the political cartoon route and just start labeling the crap out of things. For instance, while Herb’s coffee mug has long been designated as such by a label that reads Herb, Herb’s mother-in-law has traditionally drunk her morning pick-me-up out of a mug decorated with a triangle-ish shape that looks vaguely like the Star Trek logo. However, it seems that, having gotten tired of people asking her if “that’s the logo from the science fiction TV show first broadcast in the ’60s that everyone’s talking about,” Eula has traded her old mug in for one that simply has “STAR TREK” written on the side of it.

Alternately, it could be that her name is actually Star Trek, and Eula is just a nickname, a shortened version of what she said to her parents when she finally got the nerve, which was “You lunatics named me ‘Star Trek’?”

Family Circus, 9/8/09

Boy, Billy and Dolly sure look depressed, don’t they? And the reasons are obvious: they have to dress nicely and troop off to school for the day, but, as we can see from Jeffy’s appearance, if they got to stay home they could just wander around in their underwear, covered with filth.

Mark Trail, 9/8/09

I’m not some kind of big expert on killing and skinning alligators, but I question the utility of that tiny little knife that sideburnsy #1 is brandishing in panel two, unless he’s planning on tickling the great thick-skinned beast.

Mary Worth, 9/8/09

Isn’t this what we all hope for when we pop the question to that special lady? That she recoil from the shock, and cover her mouth so that she doesn’t splatter you when she vomits in terror?

Gil Thorp, 9/8/09

So these are the protagonists of our Gil Thorp football-season adventure: a kid who’s learned that he doesn’t need alcohol to have a good time, and a marginal athlete who likes to come up with nicknames for himself. Pretty thin material to work with, but things should get more exciting upon the arrival of the invasion fleet of spherical alien spacecraft that you can see in the background of panel one. Once Milford’s inhabitants have been rounded up to toil in the Zyrgt mines back on Planet Nebulon VI, there’ll be all sorts of interesting dramatic possibilities.