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Bizarro, 9/22/17

As a matter of policy, the Comics Curmudgeon stands foursquare behind Love, and specifically condemns ichthyophobia in all its forms.

Arctic Circle, 9/22/17

And here is your second newspaper comic mermaid sex joke of the day. Maybe there’s something in the water?

Hägar the Horrible, 9/22/17

Hägar and Helga take up residence between the whorehouse and the monastery. Expect to be seeing a lot of Brother Olaf, guys: that guy practices what he preaches.

Spider-Man, 9/22/17

“… I could not stand by and watch you become a murderer. But I’m totally down with watching you shrivel in agony to a desiccated corpse. Out of love! I’m also OK conspiring with Spider-Man to murder you. Um … love!”

Gasoline Alley, 9/22/17

Dick Tracy reads Gasoline Alley twice — once in the paper and once online. He’s just that tough!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Gasoline Alley, 9/19/17

Love-sick Rufus done got lost in the funnies! But his contract done restricted his wanderings to the premium content offerings from the Tribune Content Agency, LLC! Alas, it’s too late for him to woo Brenda Starr on the rebound, or hit the road with Annie. But maybe he’ll turn up as the twelfth Mudlark on field in Gil Thorp? As a lovable man-goat in Pluggers? Stark naked in Love Is?

Funky Winkerbean, 9/19/17

Hey it’s Funky Winkerbean, beloved product of Batom, Inc., with syndication in North America thoughtfully provided by North America Syndicate, Inc. It’s been a while, because last week was one long, tiresome block of exposition from Buck Bedlow, high-school rival of Bull Bushka here. Bull, of course, is suffering progressive mental deterioration from injuries sustained at the hands, shoulder pads, and helmet of this very guy, and now we learn how it happened: Bull was actually a pretty lousy football player. His memories of high-school glory are therefore false and terrible, and losing them will be no big deal.

“Wow, that takes a load off my mind, heh heh — thanks for stopping by, buddy!”

Andy Capp, 9/19/17

None of your fancy-schmancy chronic traumatic encephalopathy for treasured Creators Syndicate legacy character Andy Capp. He earns his memory loss.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/19/17

The Morgans — including newly-minted Morgan John Carter — at home. Rex consumes premium content from King Features Syndicate, a unit of media conglomerate Hearst Corporation, on some kind of antique flat foldy-paper thing; June does so in the normal, sensible way. The narration box reminds us that “time passes,” but I’m pretty sure Hearst has already got that figured out.

All that plugging, and still not a dime from the syndicates! Good thing the Comics Curmudgeon has such generous readers! Thank you!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Funky Winkerbean, 9/7/17

Oh, hey, remember when beloved Hollywood big shot Mopey Pete went to Ohio and “found something that interested him,” and that thing was a lady, in whom he was interested in for sex? Well, that lady was Crankshaft’s granddaughter Mindy, now ten years older than she is in the Crankshaft-era of this bifurcated continuity that I’m being compelled against my will into thinking and caring about. We’ve been teased before that maybe in the ten-years-later Funky-era Crankshaft himself is a vegetative husk mouldering away in a nursing home somewhere, but maybe today’s the day when we finally find out if that’s true? Definitely a strong third date move is to bring a guy to see your comatose grandfather, and say “This guy used to be a real asshole, but he can’t hurt your feelings with a cutting, punny remark now!”

Gasoline Alley, 9/7/17

Oh, hey, remember the sexual competition between Rufus and Elam for the affections of the Widder Huffington? Well, Elam shaved and won her heart, and Rufus wandered off to parts unknown to nurse his grief, and now the Huffington kids have been left to roam the countryside unsupervised while Elam and their mom presumably have nonstop sex in her ramshackle hovel. At least their incongruously modern bike helmets will reduce their chances of massive head injury!

Gil Thorp, 9/7/17

Oh, hey, remember when Gil Thorp summer plots used to be fun, or at least have some semblance of a narrative arc? Welp, too bad, because this year we just got Jaquan musing about maybe playing pro football, and then Heather talking him into getting an utterly pointless humanities graduate degree instead, and Jaquan promising to help her get a coaching gig when she goes to college next year, and, hey, look at the time, is it after Labor Day already? Guess we better wrap this up before football season starts! The only question left unanswered is whether or not Gil looked up from his phone as he mumbled platitudes at Jaquan about how the only person he needs to prove anything to is himself or whatever.

Mark Trail, 9/7/17

Oh man, probably every single Mark Trail from here on in won’t end with a close up of a wildly spinning weather vane and a “GRRIIIINND” sound effect, but wouldn’t it be great if it did?