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Mark Trail, 10/24/06

Normally I would go into some sort of liberal namby-pamby crap here about how the Mark Trail isn’t going to let no goddamned fourth amendment stop him from handing out left hooks and right crosses of justice, what with him being the King of LoFo and not needin’ no warrants and all, but then I realized that MOLLY IS IN DANGER and these guys are freakin’ NAMED JAKE AND SNAKE FOR GOD’S SAKES so let’s just GET ON WITH THIS ALREADY.

Cathy, 10/24/06

I break my usual contemptuous silence on the subject of Cathy in order to point out that there’s a carrot in Mr. What’s-His-Name’s word balloon in the second panel today. Yeah, you heard me. A carrot. A frickin’ carrot. What. The. Hell.

Get Fuzzy, 10/24/06

I’m really pretty sure that this is the first Holocaust collaboration joke in the history of the comics.

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Marmaduke, 8/1/06

You ever think that maybe male poodles (who by my guess make up about half the poodle population) get tired of the poodle being the epitome of sexy cartoon dog femininity? It’s not their fault if they have to have the girly haircuts. On the other hand, how do I know that all these randy dogs lined up on the couch are boy dogs looking for some lady dog tail? This could be a big doggie buffet of canine polymorphous perversion. I saw a dog hump an ottoman once, so they can’t really be that discriminating.

Dick Tracy, 8/1/06

Al Kinda, who so far has proved to be al Qaeda’s most incompetent terrorist mastermind, manages to pull off something special in panel two: history’s longest-distance pistol-whipping. Seriously, I don’t think that Capitol cop got within ten feet of that gun. Maybe after the Cynthia McKinney incident, the Capitol Police are all just taking a dive whenever anyone swings something cell-phone sized at them, just to keep the media circus to a minimum. Or maybe Kinda’s wacky outfits have something to do with his abilities to work spooky Levantine magic.

Get Fuzzy, 8/1/06

Considering this is Bucky, he’s being remarkably thoughtful by doing it in the bathroom. More than I can say for some rubber-band eating cats I know and live with.

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For Better Or For Worse, 6/14/06

Oh, c’mon, Jim, forget this “dividing your ashes” stuff: why not just dig up Marian, bring her back to Ontario, get a place with Iris, and then: yowza! Posthumous three-way!

OK, that was in poor taste. But I had to do something to distract myself from Iris’ grim, death-like visage in the final panel. I mean, Jesus, it looks like she’s ready to drag him off to the underworld right now.

Family Circus, 6/14/06

Ignoring the weird jingoism of this panel for the moment, I have to ask: what the hell are these two watching? Is it the Pictures Of Rocks Against A Blank Background With A Little Folded Index Card For A Label Channel? The ticker across the top of the screen would seem to indicate that they’re watching a cable news station of some sort, but surely there’s an attractive white woman missing somewhere that could preempt this crap.

Anyway, Billy, you just wait until Operation Martian Freedom is launched sometime in late 2007. Then you could can buy your space rocks without adding to America’s trading deficit, because we’ll own Mars’ shiny red space ass.

Shoe, 6/14/06

Holy crap, did the crazy roller-skating bird from Shoe just get propositioned? I’m so stunned by this development that I can’t even work up the energy to feel sorry for him because he screwed it up.

Get Fuzzy, 6/14/06

See, this is why we all love Satchel. Because when he wants you to be appear on a game show that he invents, he hand-delivers a formal invitation. In a sealed envelope.

I’m intrigued by Rob’s claim to be a “grown-up.” I’m not convinced, based on the evidence I’ve seen.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 6/14/06

TDIET takes time out from its usual fare — which is to say the insane, petty rantings of octogenarians — to illuminate the deep structural problems in America’s health care system. This is material so politically charged that usually only Rex Morgan dares to handle it, but TDIET discusses the crisis in its own trademark fashion: by ending with “Oh, yeah!”