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Family Circus, 3/10/06

Actually, Dolly, it’s a little known fact that the Pope is named after the eggs. Yes, in an attempt to shore up flagging membership numbers, all future pontiffs will be named after breakfast foods that are determined via focus groups to be widely perceived as delicious. Look for future conclaves to elect Pope Oatmeal, Pope Shredded Wheat, Pope Scrapple, and, in a partnership that will see the CEO of Denny’s appointed to the College of Cardinals, Pope Moons Over My Hammy®.

OK, seriously: B-16 (as I have been trying to get people to call him, to little avail) has been pope for less than a year, and I think this is the second or third “benedict” pun the Family Circus has done. Are the Keanes on the payroll of Opus Dei all of the sudden? Because I think that they could be spending their money more wisely.

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Family Circus, 1/19-20/06

Lotta hate in the Family Cicrus over the past couple of days. Billy’s the cool one, all anodyne disdain, hitting on the fact that the worst that can happen to him is meaningless, which means that there are no rules and nothing to hold him back from fulfilling every desire of his id, from putting his contempt for his fellow Circus members on display for all to see. Jeffy, as usual, is more volatile, his hatred of his family and himself breaking out uncontrollably as he flies into a vicious rage for no reason. Poor Dolly is there to mutely bear the brunt of the bad behavior. Don’t worry about it, honey: it’s about their own demons, not you.

I add here today’s classic Peanuts from 1959, in case the Keanes want to see just how dark a kid’s soul can get.

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Family Circus, 1/16/06

I’m not sure what’s more alarming about this panel: how damn satisfied all of Billy’s little friends look in the aftermath of his killer grandmother-related anecdote, or how smug Billy himself looks for having told it. I’m also perplexed by the very notion of cute-grandmother-story-time in modern American public schools. Shouldn’t these eight-year-olds be desperately cramming for the next round of No Child Left Behind Act-mandated standardized tests rather than laxidasicaly swapping amusing stories about their elderly relatives?

By the way, I’m assuming that by “cute,” Billy’s teacher means “incontinence-themed.”

Meanwhile, in Judge Parker, the double-entendre horror continues:

Honestly, it’s like they’re trying to make it impossible for me not to be puerile.