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Archie, 9/4/09

For a brief moment here, I’m actually feeling kind of bad for Reggie, who is apparently fanatically committed to his role as Riverdale’s #1 asshole. Check out his theatrically prickish expression in the third panel; he’s giggling at his own obnoxiousness so gleefully, he’s about to sprain his face.

Mark Trail, 9/4/09

So, since we met our noble but unemployed backwoodsman, he’s spent most of his time being lobbied heavily by the local sideburn brigade to take up a life of crocodile poaching. But is the illicit crocodile trade really such a bad thing? Maybe not, for those who decide to venture into the swamps bringing tender and delicious little dogs along with them! Prepare to see Rusty and Mark’s fishing trip to go off without incident, since all the giant terror reptiles determined to eat Sassy have long been transformed into handbags, with Mark bellowing “Thanks for the help, illegal poachers!” as they had back to Lost Forest.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/4/09

Oh, Berna, you can keep repeating your questions in simpler and simpler words all you like, but Becka seems to have downed several glasses of wine while waiting for her noodles to be individually hand-crafted back in the kitchen, and has pretty much stopped making sense. Even basic subject-verb agreement is beyond her. “Woman are drawn to Peter! Peter are … handsome man! God, I love him, that dirty, dirty bastard … so handsome … where’s the breadsticks? I never got my breadsticks! You get breadsticks at the Olive Garden … fuck Tito and his sauce. Wait, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, Peter. He thinks he’s so great! Just because he’s attractive … and gifted … and charming … hold on, I think I’m gonna puke.”

Marmaduke and Family Circus, 9/4/09

Ha ha, Marmaduke and Jeffy are planning to “borrow” foodstuffs, and then return them, after they come out of their buttholes.

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Mary Worth, 8/28/09

Is there anything worse than hearing Tobey natter on in barely coded terms about all the new sex positions she and Ian tried out in various dank castles across Scotland? Turns out there is, and it’s watching Dr. Jeff’s socially inept daughter make out with her ethics-challenged cop boyfriend, right there on the park bench where children can see it.

Momma, 8/28/09

Is there anything worse than Momma’s unsettlingly close relationship with her youngest son? Turns out there is, and it’s hearing her go on and on and on about how all these girls on the beaches today, showing so much skin, they’re just whores whores whores whores.

Family Circus, 8/28/09

Is there anything worse than seeing Jeffy’s pale, naked, fleshy thighs? Turns out there isn’t, so please, please, Mommy Keane, I don’t know what the insane nonsense coming out of Jeffy’s mouth is supposed to mean, but just make soothing noises that will get him to put his pants back on, OK?

Hagar the Horrible, 8/28/09

Looks like another harsh winter in Scandinavia has our favorite band of Viking raiders on the edge of starvation! Good times.

WHAT? AGAIN?: Hey, everyone, we’re going off on a weekend getaway, this weekend, so you may have to wait until Monday for your weekend comics. Then again, it’s supposed to rain, so you may get glum rainy-day vacation blogging. ONLY TIME WILL TELL! Tell then, why not play some Mark Trail Bingo, as developed by faithful reader Aviatrix? Faithful readers spacemika and bats :[ even made boards!

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Jumble, 8/25/09

I’ve been doing this blog for (ye gods) more than five years now, and in that time I’ve learned that cartoonists are charming, funny, wonderful people who are incredibly good-natured and have a sense of humor about what I do here, even if I’m cruelly mocking their life work. This is true of the ones who contact me, at least; there may in fact be dozens of comics artists out there seething at my scorn, but they have yet to start hurling bricks through my window. Anyway, the reason I bring this up is that some comics artists actually go out of their way to ask why I don’t make fun of them, and among those people is Jumble artist Jeff Knurek (whose last name always looks to me like a Jumble clue, but I digress). Although I have noted this feature a couple of times in the past (drawing zoophilic perversions always helps you get into this blog), I have submitted to his urgings and am now approaching his puzzle comic anew! Anyway, today’s comic proves that Mr. Knurek has sadly confused “astrologer” with “low-rent Elvis impersonator,” and “crystal ball” with “ball of yarn.”

Reading the Jumble also reminds me of the fact that it makes me feel stupid, because I’m not actually smart enough/don’t have the attention span to solve the puzzle, ever. Crosswords I love, but my brain stubbornly refuses to rearrange word scrambles into the correct configuration. Thus, I’m always getting the joke a day late and out of context, since I do read the answers faithfully. In that regard, I feel obliged to point out that “MIRTH SKIMP CROTCH PENURY” seems to tell a delightful little tale about wasting all your money on prostitutes.

Ziggy, 8/25/09

How much abuse does Ziggy take in his titular comic-panel? It’s unquantifiable, but it’s a lot. Today’s installment includes a common Ziggy stance, in which our hero twists his little hat nervously while being berated just for being Ziggy (in this case, by the main character from the recent Pixar hit Up, slumming). You don’t see Ziggy actually wearing his hat very often, but you do see him clutching at it anxiously quite a bit; it seems to mostly serve as a prop for his pathetic cringing. The fact that he has props for his pathetic cringing goes a long way towards explaining why Ziggy’s abuse elicits more vague disgust than sympathy.

Family Circus, 8/25/09

Good lord, it’s a very bad sign for the blackout violence to start at such a young age. It looks like Dolly’s going to have to be chained up in the basement with the other four Keane Kids you never hear about.

Apartment 3-G, 8/25/09

Oh, yeah, you know what helps alleviate the grief? GRIEF SEX! [insert porn “bown chicka bowp bown” music here]

Judge Parker, 8/25/09

Oh, yeah, you know what helps alleviate the pain of minor injuries? MINOR INJURY SEX! [insert porn “bown chicka bowp bown” music here]

Ha ha, just kidding, obviously. If you saw some fiendish hell-demon crawling towards you with a sexy woman’s body and a yawning inky black emptiness where its face should be, you wouldn’t start unbuttoning your shirt to reveal your heaving bosom; you’d run screaming into the woods, severe ankle sprain be damned.