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Dennis the Menace, 1/25/07

I’ve remarked earlier that Joey’s main purpose in life seems to be to make Dennis look like a bad-ass by comparison; as Dennis has grown increasingly cuddlier, so Joey is forced to become ever more innocuous. It seems that his level of friendly harmlessness has reached a point that is dangerous to his physical and emotional health. I’m not sure if Joey is supposed to be weeping openly because of some perceived slight from one of his thicker-skinned friends, or if he’s just covering his eyes in a sad and desperate attempt to cut off all external stimuli (because if he can’t perceive the actions of others, he can’t have his feelings hurt!), but I’m worried about the guy.

Speaking of breaking easy, those freakishly thin bird-like legs look like they’d snap like twigs if you looked at them wrong. Or maybe his legs are long gone and those are second-rate prostheses made from broom handles.

Gil Thorp, 1/25/07

There’s nothing particularly exciting or ground-breaking about today’s Gil Thorp, but it seem to really exude the vibe that makes me love it so. There’s ex-hobo Ted Pearse in his groovy thrift-store vintage shirt; there’s the weirdo taunt that no teenager would ever utter, ever; there’s the slow-burn reaction to same on the part of the one of the dimmer characters; there’s the typical use of “the Bucket” as part of a barely veiled sexual euphemism; and there’s lots of very oddly drawn hair and foreheads. Pure bliss.

Garfield, 1/25/07

Oh, hell no. Bucky’s innocent and wholly accidental marijuana legalization campaign gets censored across the country, and this filth gets a pass? There ain’t no justice.

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Beetle Bailey, 1/17/07

Wow, so I bet you never thought that the latest chapter of Beetle Bailey’s ongoing storyline about Beetle’s failure to bust a move on Miss Buxley would take a turn for the regulations-breaking same-sex affectionate. Anyone who reads this strip regularly has seen this coming for years, of course; I’m more surprised that Miss Buxley, who works on a military base and spends most of her time with earthy military types, is so shocked by cussing that she opens her eyes wide enough for us to see the irises for the first time, like, ever.

Garfield, 1/17/07

Now, look here: one of the defining features — some might say the defining feature — of Garfield is his compulsive eating problem; longtime Garfield readers know that if the fat cat ever did get his paws on a couple of chocolate chip cookies, his primary mission would be to cram them down his gullet with a minimum of chewing, not to festoon some whimsical snow sculpture with them. Well, if they had to violate a fundamental, long-established character trait, at least they did it in the service of a really great joke … oh, wait.

Dick Tracy, 1/17/07

A lot of you have marveled at Detective Tracy’s ability to get a hold of all of the United States’ intelligence agencies at once on his cell phone; I’m more concerned about his obvious joy in giving some terrifying Big Brother-esque mind-reading (and mind-erasing) device to every spook in town. Look for a wave of laws out of Congress setting mandatory sentences for thoughtcrimes. Thankfully, I have my tinfoil hat to protect me.

Hi and Lois, 1/17/07

Good God, but panel two is disturbing. I guess the cane is supposed to indicate that this freakish, gigantic baby-headed thing is an old lady rather than some kind of circus sideshow attraction, but it doesn’t really help.

Incidentally, I too would be upset if a sunbeam urinated on my carpet. And in panel one, it looks like Trixie’s doing some open-mouthed thought-ballooning. It’s almost as bad as a cat trying amplify the volume of its thoughts.

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For Better Or For Worse, 11/28/06

No, you see Ellie, in the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate yet equally important groups: the strong, handsome, interesting police, who investigate crime; and the witnesses, who mumble testimony through their cinnamon-bun-crumb-laden mustaches and try to avoid mentioning their total contempt for the niceties of fair trials in a common law jurisdiction. This one’s already out of Paul’s hands, I’m afraid.

Seriously, though, this is the worst thing ever. I hate all of you, die, die, die, die.

Apartment 3-G, 11/28/06

Hey, man, who’s that crazy cat with the sideburns and the granny glasses? Is it another one of Alan’s beatnik art friends? Crazy kick, man! Outta site!

Garfield, 11/28/06

Forced to finally confront the concept of human sexuality, Jon Arbuckle has apparently suffered a massive stroke. One can only hope that Garfield will be as skilled a caretaker as Iris is for Jim Patterson, but he’s more likely to lose interest and eventually just eat his hapless patient.

Mark Trail, 11/28/06

What … but … I … just … buh …

[A few more moments of incoherent sputtering ensues.]

NOW LOOK HERE! Just because we all were like, “Oooh, Molly, we love Molly, Molly’s so cute, oh no, what will happen to Molly?” doesn’t mean our appetite for adorable animals in trouble is limitless. We recognize blatant emotional manipulation when we see it, and the Adorable Adolescent Beaver Who Isn’t Quite Ready To Leave The Lodge is just such manipulation wrapped up in smooth brown fur with a big flat tail at one end.

Oh, who am I kidding. Oh my God, what if Molly and the beaver meet and have adorable adventures in the woods together. SO CUTE!!!!

What sort of little boy wears his vintage 1940s Boy Scout uniform, complete with cravat, to dinner? A sad and maladjusted little boy, that’s what kind. Rusty should get together with that other comics misfit, little Sarah Morgan. Except that, what with June off screaming at tweakers and Rex off doing … well, whatever it is he’s doing, probably cruising for anonymous gay sex in the city parks, nobody really seems to be much paying attention to her, and she’s probably starved to death by now.

Funky Winkerbean, 11/28/06

You might think that this is the most horrifying thing you can imagine, but my wife’s been to a baby shower where people microwaved candy bars in diapers so they looked exactly like you’d think melted candy bars in a diaper would look and then passed them around and everyone had to guess what kind of candy bar was in each. So frankly I think the concept of a stripper dressed (for the moment) as Santa Claus giving a lap dance to an extremely pregnant one-armed woman sounds quite charming in comparison. At least all these blatantly randy women aren’t dressed as sexy elves. Let’s cling to that shred of dignity.