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Those of you following the Self-Clubbing Tyler contest no doubt remember the awesomeness of the Self-Clubbing Tyler Action Figure, created by mad genius Dean Booth:

Well, in case you hadn’t been paying attention, Dean auctioned off his magnificent creation in the comments, with proceeds going to me, because Dean’s such an awesome fellow. The winning bidder, who wants to remain anonymous, donated the action figure to me as well to do with as I please — so it’s going to the winning entry! That’s right: if your entry into the Self-Clubbing Tyler lookalike contest comes out on top, you will be sent this magnificent creation to display proudly in your home.

But! The contest won’t last forever (much as it may seem like it). Send your pics by this coming Monday, May 7 if you want this fab prize! Operators are standing by!

Speaking of prizes, someone we know who’s “a real catch” (according to her mom) needs a date for Shawna-Marie’s wedding! Faithful reader willethompson, in his usual inimitable and hilarious style, breaks down her options. But hurry up and pick one, Liz, before he asks out that nice new girl in accounting!

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Beetle Bailey, 5/3/07

Sarge’s attempts to avoid attachments with women while remaining ambiguous about his own preferences are becoming increasingly heart-rending. Even his faithful dog is trying to get him paired off into safe, Army regulation-approved heteronormality.

Archie, 5/3/07

You’re close, Archie-Laugh-Generating-Joke-Unit 3000, but the punchline is only funny if Archie is actually doing something positive for Mr. Lodge, albeit accidentally. Otherwise it’s just a baffling nonsequitur, or an implication that Archie is a Christ-like figure with mystical healing powers, neither of which are ideal.

Family Circus, 5/3/07

Oh, they start them young with the arbitrary gender markers in the Keane household, yes sir.

Blondie, 5/3/07

Speaking of gender arbitrariness, I’m sure Blondie is just thrilled that Dagwood’s chronic narcolepsy suddenly means that she has to cook breakfast for three. I imagine she’s just getting that pan nice and searing hot before she starts braining people with it.

For Better Or For Worse, 5/3/07

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

Wait, that’s not really fair. It’s hard to work yourself up to ask someone out, and … no, hold on, I was right the first time. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

Also, Mark Trail has consisted of a lot of nattering about birds and airports and crap like that for the last few days, but I thought you’d be interested in a certain similarity of body language between today’s final panel and a strip from last week:

Damn, everybody wants a piece of this handsome outdoorsman!

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 5/2/07

Ha ha! Hugh Avery is sitting in the dry, crusty, white remains of “Sarah’s” “ice cream”!

No, wait, take those quotes off of “ice cream.” We all know the Morgans love their ice cream.

I am looking forward to the continued ritual humiliation of Hugh as this adventure continues. He’s forced to sit in day-old ice cream! His head is forced into a bucket of dirty water! He’s pelted with bottles in an alley! It’s just like a Jackie Chan movie! Fortunately, after suffering these indignities, Jackie Chan generally goes all crazy martial arts-stylie against his oppressors, which we can only pray will happen here.

For Better Or For Worse, 5/2/07

Wow, these two are looking awful grim in panel five there. Like, Funky Winkerbean grim. Buck up kids; you’ve just managed to avoid a lifetime of bland, soggy togetherness. You ought to be praising the heavens as you run from each other as fast as humanly possible.

Some commentors have suggested that the Mustache’s “escort” is going to be … his daughter! Liz an’ Anthony’s love can find flower at the beautiful nuptuals after all! Except that that, since they’re both going anyway, the presence of little Françoise would not preclude them from going there together, sitting together, grinding on each other to “Can’t Get Enough Of Your Love, Babe,” etc. No, some poor not-Liz girl (let’s call her DisposaDate) will be forced to sullenly sit at their table, idly picking at her warmed-over chicken, while the Mustache and Lizardbreath discover the depth of their watery, predictable love for one another.

Also: “To what do I owe the honor of this most welcome visit”? “He did it up right”? “I came to see if you’d be my ‘escort’?” Who the hell writes this dialogue? It hurts my soul.

Mary Worth, 5/2/07

Hey, everyone! Brother! Just in case you’re wondering. Brother.

Gil Thorp, 5/2/07

Oh, Ken, it looks like “Clambake” is “coming” to “the Bucket” whether you “like” it or not. I love Gil Thorp so God-damned much. It’s a nonstop thrill ride of hilarious depravity.