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Family Circus, 6/30/09

Let’s ignore for the moment the fact that Billy is too young to have a job and, assuming the real-life and Family Circus calendars line up, is on summer vacation, and therefore has every right in the world to lounge about lazily. Ignore too the fact that “nothing” is surely preferable to other things Billy could be doing — rotting his mind with TV, bullying his siblings, breaking things, or, God forbid, making adorable malapropisms. I think we should actually be impressed by Billy’s total commitment to doing nothing. He’s so intent on non-action that he’s gone into a room with no furniture and unadorned walls, and is just leaning there, his hands tucked behind him that so he doesn’t do something even accidentally. If he does any less, he’ll transcend to a higher plane of existence, which all of us should be hoping for, as then we won’t have to deal with him.

Gasoline Alley, 6/30/09

The current Gasoline Alley plot is stupid and irritating, so I’ll only waste four words on it — “improvised fake clergyman grift” — but today’s strip is noteworthy for what may be the most gratuitous drawing of a young lady’s rear end in short shorts that the comics page has ever seen. If this and this are any indication, beneath the family-friendly surface of this ancient legacy strip is a cauldron of randiness on the verge of boiling over.

Marvin, 6/30/09

Can Marvin not go 48 hours without updating us on the titular hell-infant’s habit of letting loose the contents of his bowels and/or bladder? Anyway, here’s today’s strip, in which Marvin urinates all over his mother, again. If there’s any integrity to this strip’s use of dialogue balloons, Jenny can’t hear her son’s little mental quip, so that look of horror must be a result of the piss she feels pooling on her back.

B.C., 6/30/09

I’m not sure why, but the revelation that the turtle half of B.C.’s turtle-bird pairing is named “John” is even more disconcerting to me than the discovery that the bird is named “Dookey.”

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Pluggers, 3/31/09

Ha ha, remember a couple of weeks ago, when something that went around a plugger’s waist was very long, because pluggers are fat? Well, it turns out that other things that are supposed to go around a plugger’s waist aren’t long enough! Because pluggers are fat, you see. Also, take a look at some plugger ass!

Since male pluggers are almost universally portly, why is poor Rhino-man the butt (ha ha) of all the “pluggers are fat” jokes? This might explain why he’s always so depressed (though it might be because he’s poor).

Gasoline Alley, 3/31/09

“And by ‘cry,’ I mean ‘tear off my own face!’ Argh, basic human kindness sends me into an insane rage!”

Hi and Lois, 3/31/09

Is this the beginning of Trixie’s transformation from “sunbeam-loving cherub” to “cold-blooded sociopath”? If so, can we sic her on Marvin?

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Blondie and The Lockhorns, 3/16/09

As a result of this confluence of comic themes, I thought perhaps that there was some sort of nationwide blood drive going on today, of which I would naturally be unaware because the very thought of a needle makes me weep like a pathetic little baby and vomit in terror. Still, about thirty seconds of Google searching (all the research I’m ever willing to do for anything, because I am one of The Kids Today) seems to rule out that idea, so I guess it’s just one of those occasional cartoon coincidences. That’s just as well, as neither today’s Blondie nor today’s Lockhorns would really inspire people to go give the life-saving gift of blood; instead, they’ll just associate this selfless act with their their terrible job or their soul-killing marriage, respectively.

Gasoline Alley, 3/16/09

It looks like there’s some middle-aged, somewhat hard of hearing, working-class romance brewing in Gasoline Alley! Which is great, as it will surely keep the loathsome Slim out of the narrative eye, but I find panel two, in which Gertie stares straight out at us and demands that we, the readers, acknowledge our attractiveness and update her on dinner, kind of unnerving. Perhaps if I still read comics in the paper, I’d have gotten the 3-D glasses that are an integral part of this very special Gasoline Alley experience.

Apartment 3-G, 3/16/09

“I hope you like olives!” Vaguely promising, but, you know, it’s still Tommie, so not sexy at all.

UPDATE: Sorry, kids, your faithful blogger was way behind and is sleepy — COTW coming tomorrow morning!