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First, on Friday I got a mysterious box in the mail. What could it be? A bomb? A container of anthrax? None of these, it turned out! Instead, it was fabulous commemorative Family Circus plate from faithful reader Krazy Kat!

The lovable Keane Kids are rolling around in the leftover detritus of an orgy of Christmas consumption, while their parents are passed out exhausted on the couch, hoping that at least one of them will choke to death on a small toy part so that there’ll be less shopping to do next year. Thanks, Krazy Kat!

(By the way, does anyone know if you can actually eat off these commemorative plate dealies? I’ve heard a rumor that the paint on them is often lead or something equally unpleasant.)

Also! Faithful reader Harold, maker of several fonts, has developed one based on the lettering of former Gil Thorp artist Frank McLaughlin! Behold, Ohmigosh! Perhaps the new artist can swap it in for Comic Sans? It can be yours for a mere $30!

Also also! Faithful reader KT has completed his Comics Curmudgeon Get-Together cartoon diary. There are photos too!

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Dick Tracy, 4/30/08

Yes, you might say poetic justice, if in fact there were any poetic justice in the situation whatsoever. I suppose Cole Lector was rich, but it’s not as if Dab Stract or the police are going to be handing over his money and geegaws to the poor now that he’s been killed. In fact, the whole notion of redistribution of wealth ought to make Dick so righteously angry that he’d grab that Red bow out of Dab Stract’s hands and break it over his knee, just like he would snap that Commie Robin Hood’s spine, if he could lay his hands on him. The only possible answer is that Dick is not in fact listening to a word Dab Stract or anyone else is saying, and is just interjecting random tough-guy bon mots whenever he becomes vaguely aware that there’s a lull in the conversation. It would explain a lot about the disjointed dialogue in this strip.

Crankshaft, 4/30/08

Ha ha! Crankshaft’s an angry old man that nobody likes, and he’s about to be stung all over his face by bees! Oh, it doesn’t take much to warm the cockles of my black, black heart.

Family Circus, 4/30/08

“Well, there has to be some reason. For starters, it would help if I liked you.”

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Gil Thorp, 4/24/08

We all knew that the new Gil Thorp artist would face his first really tough test when forced to draw three disconnected panels of insane sports action, and I’m proud to say that he’s passed with flying colors. In panel one, power pitcher Lisa Wyche rotates her arm 360 degrees in its socket to deliver a throw behind the batter’s back to her catcher, six feet away; in panel two, Branden’s double is only a fraction of a second away from shattering the left fielder’s eye socket; and in panel three, Branden combines a slide with a ballerina’s split in an attempt to avoid a vicious karate chop from the third basewoman. All in all, it’s quite a respectable outing for fans of deranged softball-like hallucinations, which I trust all of you are.

Family Circus, 4/24/08

“Also, powerful forces beyond your control will use you for their own ends, constantly rubbing you down until you’re a worn-out nub, and then will throw you in the trash. So, what I’m trying to say is, somebody go get grandma some more gin.”