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Blondie, 6/15/21

I continue to respect Blondie’s decision to acknowledge the coronavirus pandemic maybe once a month or so, but even with that context Dagwood is right to be confused: we have for the most part stopped doing temperature checks, because it turns out most people early in a coronavirus infection don’t have fevers, so it’s not a particularly good screen, plus Dagwood is coming home to his wife, who he lives with, and it’s not like he’s going to suddenly become infected and infectious in the eight hours he was at work anyway. Based on the narrative turn things seem to take in the final panel, I must regretfully come to the conclusion that this is a sex thing.

Dennis the Menace, 6/15/21

Why on earth would you ostentatiously refer to wife as “boss” so loudly and repeatedly during a phone call that your baffled coworker would interrupt your conversation to remark on it? I must again conclude this is some sort of sex thing, and Henry is attempting to humiliate himself in as many ways as possible during the run-up to the act itself, for sex-thing reasons.

Mary Worth, 6/15/21

Ha ha, wait, did Drew already fill in Ashlee on all the hot gossip vis-à-vis his ex, or do they already know each other somehow, or did their instincts just immediately kick in upon sighting one another and each of them realized she had to do battle to secure her position as the alpha skank? Anyway, I’m sure this is a sex thing for some of you, but please don’t feel obliged to leave the lurid details in the comments.

Funky Winkerbean, 6/15/21

I think we’re all real familiar with how depressing the average day is at Montoni’s for the people who hang out there, so dwell for a minute on the fact that its regular denizens found it even more depressing when the were forbidden to hang out there by the health department. Also, unrelated, but I dearly hope that the final panel isn’t a sex thing for anyone, anywhere.

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Shoe, 6/12/21

OK, first thing’s first: any legacy comics artist convinced they’re going to be on the cutting edge with a cryptocurrency joke has to acknowledge that Snuffy Smith did it first more than six years ago, and, frankly, did it better. Second, if Mort’s new proposed “alternatives for money” aren’t based on distributed computing and the blockchain, then he’s just trading one kind of fiat currency for another! Sure, he could print his own novelty CorpseBux or whatever that customers could trade for funerary services add-ons, but as long as they’re pegged to the dollar, his mortuary business is still under the tyrannical thumb of the Federal Reserve and the Bilderberg Group.

Funky Winkerbean, 6/12/21

For the past week, Harry Dinkle and his wife have been going on and on about his plan to attend a big band directors’ conference in Pasadena. Every day it was annoying, but every day when I was tempted to write about it here, I thought “No, I’m gonna hold out, I bet it gets worse.” Folks, I’m proud that my restraint means I get to present you with … this. Enjoy your weekend!

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Funky Winkerbean, 5/14/21

Just to bring you up to date on what’s happening in Funky Winkerbean: Harry’s attempt to raise money for new choir robes using his traditional band fundraising techniques flopped, so instead the church set up a fundraiser on the in-universe equivalent of GoFundMe, called “MoneyForNothing” in what I assume is a show of contempt for the concept of online fundraising, or maybe for modern life in general. Nevertheless, once pictures of the beloved (?) choir loft cat Bingo were added to the MoneyForNothing page, the fundraiser was wildly successful, leading Harry to utter the sentence “I stand in line!”, which is … not the sort of thing one says in this situation, in my experience with conversational American English. Maybe Harry thinks “I stan,” a thing the Kids Today say when expressing admiration for someone, is short for “I stand in line?” A deeper explanation may lie in the weird Clink! Lillian’s ring produced when rapped against Harry’s chest; perhaps the real Harry died some years, and the “Harry” we’ve seen in the strip since has been a lifelike metallic android, whose English idiom algorithm is not quite up to snuff yet.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 5/14/21

Oh, so you think there aren’t enough medical plots in Rex Morgan, M.D., huh? Well, what if there were [thinks furiously] a pill that could help someone come up with more medical plots? Sounds pretty medical, huh? Pills? You get them from a doctor?