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Gil Thorp, 11/8/07

“Gentlemen, I’ve just heard from the athletic director. It seems that in this so-called sport of ‘football’, you’re supposed to accumulate more points than the opposite team, and your quarterback isn’t supposed to wildly hurl the ball in the direction of the opposing players. We’ve been doing this all wrong, apparently. Who knew?”

I’m not sure where Cully and his thuggish friends are stopping for a snack. It appears to be a bookstore of some sort, albeit one with a sliding glass door. Perhaps they plan to show their hatred for learning and knowledge of all kinds by eating the books rather than reading them.

Also of note today are a pair of classic Gil Thorp back-of-the-head oh-my-God-I-don’t-think-those-people-have-any-faces shots of dudes with wildly inappropriate earrings.

Mark Trail, 11/8/07

Hey, Johnny, maybe if you had gone and helped your son rather than spending the afternoon carefully waxing your mustache out to Kaiser Wilhelm-esque proportions, he wouldn’t be in this mess. Presumably Malotte père plans to punish the boy by tying him to a set of railroad tracks.

Family Circus, 11/8/07

From: The Comics Curmudgeon
To: The Family Circus
Re: Today’s cartoon

Here is a (non-comprehensive) list of things I do not want to see or see discussed in any future installments of your feature:

• Spanking
• Ass-padding that mitigates the discomfort of spanking
• Edible ass-padding that mitigates the discomfort of spanking
• Little Jeffy attempting to eat an enormous marshmallow that is larger than his mouth

I thank you for your time.

Marvin, 11/8/07

So, we can make jokes in the newspaper about babies urinating on people’s faces now? For real? Mavin’s smug facial expression really pushes this one over the edge for me. It’s like he’s saying “Oh yeah, dad, I’m going to piss all over your face. Yeah. It’s gonna be awesome.”

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Mary Worth, 10/31/07

Goodness! Could this dog-loving chinbearded baby-blue-sweatshirt-clad behemoth really be our Professor Cameron? At first flush it seems likely, because honestly, how many portly white-haired gentlemen sporting Amish-style facial hair could there really be within biking radius of Charterstone? But this individual has jawline-length hair, like some sort of damn hippie, and, more troubling, is showing the sort of pure, selfless love required of dog owners, rather than sneering superciliously at the mutt’s need for affection. Perhaps Ian keeps this dog hidden away somewhere for those times when he wants to feel genuine, positive emotions. Then when he’s done he goes back to Charterstone, grumps at everyone, and makes sure the “no pets” clause stays in the condo rules.

Apartment 3-G, 10/31/07

OK, who’s with me on TEAM SAM? Clearly Margo needs to cool it with the chasing of the unattainable wealthy jerks and see the handsome young thing right in front of her (or, in this case, just on the other side of the lightning-bolt-shaped panel divider indicating electronic communication). Sure, Sam doesn’t have much to offer by way of money, but he can provide the one thing Margo needs most: total puppy-eyed devotion to Margo. Magee’s a top, and she needs to find a bottom to make her happy.

Family Circus, 10/31/07

Today’s Family Circus actually made me laugh. The jack-o’-lantern really seems to have a pretty convincing of expression of mingled horror and disgust. It’s not as horrified as a person would be watching someone eat a pie made out of human brains, but still.

Dennis the Menace, 10/31/07

Tip for you, Dennis:

“We’ll skip this house ’cause they only give out toothbrushes and healthy stuff”: Not menacing.

“We’ll burn this motherfucking house to the ground ’cause they only give out toothbrushes and healthy stuff”: Menacing.

I’m here to help.

Archie, 10/31/07

The Archie Joke-Generating Laugh Unit 3000’s total unfamiliarity with organic matter rears its ugly head again. There are few things more stomach turning than the idea of Jughead pushing his head through a hole hollowed out in the middle of what has to be a forty-pound hamburger. There aren’t any visible suspenders or anything, so the key question is: What’s holding it up? Mayonnaise and rapidly congealing American cheese, no doubt. Our Keystone Kop ought to end this crime against food with by beating Jughead senseless with his baton right now before that manhole-sized ground beef patty starts to go bad.

For Better Or For Worse, 10/31/07

Say what you will about the new hybrid FBOFW, but it did allow us to see Michael Patterson getting hit in the face.

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Argh, those Sunday strips are so big! Let’s take them on in bite-sized chunks.

Apartment 3-G, 10/28/07

Yes, Ruby, and if your mad cosmetological skills don’t land you a hairdressing job, your mad unbearably-white-deployment-of-verging-on-outdated-slang skills should land you a role in that new off-Broadway production, Diff’rent Strokes: The Musical.

Panel from Beetle Bailey, 10/28/07

“I wish you got more to give me, Beetle. I wish you would just turn around and say ‘I love you, Sarge,’ never mind the consequences. But you don’t got the guts. So I’ll just stand here with my hand on your shoulder, your tight-football-pants-clad butt just inches from my crotch, for a few minutes. That’s all I’ve got. I wish I got more.”

Portion of the Family Circus, 10/28/07

I’m not sure which is more disturbing: the thought that daddy’s work pants are tattered and stained with cut-rate gin and urine, or the thought that daddy’s work pants are bright pink and end just below the bottom of his butt cheeks.

Panel from Mark Trail, 10/28/07

“Normal humans have nothing to fear from our friends the owls! However, horrible mutants — like this freakish, big-foreheaded specimen here — will be subject to vicious, merciless owl attacks. Remember, owls are your town’s first line of defense against mutant incursions!”

Panel from Mary Worth, 10/28/07

I guess those motion lines around Dr. Jeff’s head are supposed to indicate that he’s taking a deep, hearty quaff of whatever hard liquor he’s surreptitiously poured into his coffee mug, but they look more like bobble lines of shock and horror to me. Combined with his wide eyes, I imagine he’s thinking, “Wait, it isn’t? God damn it, woman, you know that if my son’s involved in this stupid comic strip, I need to show up in it every once in a while as well. Why can’t the plots involve Chinbeard and his trophy wife for once? Who are they sleeping with to get out of their contractually mandated number of appearances in this nightmare?”