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Funky Winkerbean, 7/5/18

Don’t you just love it when some jerkwad announces “A Question!” as though you couldn’t recognize one without his expert help? Darin is a jerkwad, is what I’m saying.

Mark Trail, 7/5/18

More savage than the Maya?  Brr.

“Yes, Rusty — elite warriors were sacrificed in the “dark rituals,” while women and children were sold as slaves. Say, why don’t you and Mara go check out the market while the diggers and I have a word with your Dad?”

Gil Thorp, 7/5/18

The school newspaper sent 6:00 AM push notifications to every phone in town. Be careful crossing the street today, Dafne — Del Bader is the only guy who won’t try to run you over.

Dick Tracy, 7/5/18

Moon-themed exposition from Retik and Stellaluna. Apparently the Moon Maid DNA slurped up from that car wreck to create Mysta gave her a powerful attraction to Moon Maid’s now-remarried widower. Modern problems!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Gil Thorp, 7/3/18

In the annals of phoning it in, Gil Thorp stands as a colossus. And it’s contagious — unless Gil has taken to asking himself questions, the artist was supposed to draw Kaz in the first panel (“Wait a minute … did I just? … Aah, screw it!”).

Anyway, at Gil’s urging, beloved straight-shooting State Coach Colvin has promised no-hoper Kevin Pelwecki a big, steaming sack o’ nothing — walk-on tryout, no aid, thanks for stopping by, see ya kid. My advice? Take it, Kevin — it’s a damn sight better than anything you’ve got now. Especially the coaching!

Funky Winkerbean, 7/3/18

As his hermetic working relationship with Uber pal Pete grows more intense, Darin has gradually distanced himself from wife and family — fobbing off son “Sky” on his exhausted Mom, “forgetting” that wife Jessica lives three time zones away, and then using that as an excuse not to call her. Now, the image of his beloved Pete standing naked and dripping wet throws him into panic: “Must run from feeeeeeelings … !”

Tell me again who’s on the cosmic treadmill here?

9 Chickweed Lane, 7/3/18

The archives of the Comics Curmudgeon are littered with the bones of abandoned one-gag comics: Marmaduke is a big dog, Herb and Jamaal never say anything straight out, Heathcliff is nuts. If it weren’t for the occasional breath of “Everybody hates Grandpa” fresh air, Marvin would join them on the discard pile.

And so it is with 9 Chickweed Lane, with its now decade-long “Oh, the sexy, sexy music!” theme. Lately it’s just been a rotating cast of interchangeable partners rutting to unheard compositions. Is it wrong to want the Nazis back?.

Dustin, 7/3/18

Dude, have you ever read this comic?

— Uncle Lumpy

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Gil Thorp, 6/27/18

So, I’ve mentioned this before, but Gil Thorp seems to be becoming increasingly unmoored from the rhythm of the school year, with baseball season stretching on interminably, wacky summer plots falling by the wayside, and the cleansing fall bonfire absent for the past two years. The result is that it’s almost July and we’re just now getting around to discussing Kevin Pelwecki’s college situation. Turns out that despite his amiably dopey exterior, he actually has middlingly decent good grades that got him accepted to the flagship state university of whatever state’s Milford’s in! Now I guess Gil’s going to dazzle State U’s baseball, or possibly football, coach with his fame to get Kevin a walk-on spot in the fall. Yay for Kevin! NOW LET’S BRING ON THE SUMMER, which will I guess be dominated by the headlines that a guy who killed a teen with his car isn’t a nice man.

Mark Trail, 6/27/18

I don’t know about you, but one of my longstanding fantasies is to watch a leering red-headed Ted Cruz try to flirt with an academic by asking about cutting-edge archaeological techniques, and that fantasy has now been … fulfilled, and it was everything I could’ve hoped for!

Crock, 6/27/18

That’s right, everyone: ladies all want to fuck the Batmobile! Only the syndicated newspaper comic strip Crock is brave enough to speak this truth, everyone else is too “politically correct.”