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Hey, it’s the Comics Curmudgeon Spring Fundraiser — thank you for your generousity!

For April Fools’ Day 1997, comic strip writers and artists famously crossed over without their editors’ knowledge to do one another’s strips. Here, check it out. Of course fourteen years on, comics cabals aren’t what they used to be — but let’s see what they’ve got:

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 3/9/11

Premiering the new hybrid puzzle and kids’ comic, The Jumble: Origins.

Gil Thorp, 3/9/11

Mary Worth‘s Wilbur Weston reads Gil Thorp: “Something something girls something SAMMITCH! something something basketball something.”

Mother Goose and Grimm, 3/9/11

They isk a tide in th’ affairsk of mens,
Which, takink at th’ flood, leads on t’ fourchins;
Omitked, all th’ voya guv their lifes
Isk bound in shallowsk and in miseriesiz!

Funky Winkerbean, 3/9/11

C-list Funky Winkerbean character (how’s that for suicide juice?) and comic author Mopey Pete battles a pair of Tin Age D.C. Comics villains through an anxious night. Hey, Mopes, I know Chien‘s out of the picture, but why not give Dawn a Tweet? I bet she’s still awake!

Blondie, 3/9/11

OK, Mother Goose and and Grimmy the dog … come from FAR AWAY because … um … it’s a different comic and … um … nursery rhymes and … what, maybe Shrek? … DAMMIT BLONDIE CAN I GET A LITTLE HELP HERE?

Cross over to the fabulous side, with a generous donation to the Comics Curmudgeon!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Gil Thorp, 2/11/11

Oh hey, what’s going on with Gil Thorp’ presumably gay basketball prodigy? Well, it turns out the only thing he cares less about than winning basketball games is love, or at least yucky heterosexual love. But don’t worry about this negative stereotyping; for “balance,” his devout Christian future nemesis also turns out to be a brutal elbow-throwing thug.

Anyway, we can’t possibly be mad at Lini’s heartlessness, since his advice that Kayla dump Parker brought us the delightful and hilarious scene in panel two, where Parker is ripping off his own face out of grief. His friend sure seems to be having a good time watching the waterworks. “This is better than TV!” he thinks, while stone cold munching on a sandwich.

Apartment 3-G, 2/11/10

I’m going to pass over the rather predictable revelation that going on about your delusions of world-changing grandeur will cause Margo to want to do sex things with you, and instead focus on the freakish vehicle that has brought them to the deserted, pristine hillside that Trey will despoil with his green energy McMansion. Is that a Volkswagen Thing? Is Iris still passed out in the back seat?

Mary Worth, 2/11/10

Ha ha, Wilbur doesn’t have any idea how to work a Twitter machine! He’s just trying to lure Mary and her groceries back to his apartment, as he suspects she might have a jar of delicious mayonnaise in that bag.

Dennis the Menace, 2/11/10

“Oh, and how come you and Mrs. Wilson have different beds? Dad says it’s because you’re a couple of sexless old farts, but it always smells nice at your house!”

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Mark Trail, 2/5/11

Who says that Mark Trail compositions are clumsy and artless, mostly focusing on poorly dressed mannequins shouting at each other while disproportionately large photocopies of wildlife loom in the foreground? Well, everyone says that, really, but today’s strip is actually structured in a somewhat interesting way, with everyone gazing intently at what they most desire: Ben Smith at the precious smuggled diamonds, Mark Trail at the proof he needs to put a bad guy in jail (possibly after punching him), and Kelly at Mark himself. The fact that Kelly is disrobing as she wonders what Mark’s up to strikes me as significant.

Beetle Bailey, 2/5/11

Sarge’s body language — eyes shut, body completely stiff — seems to me indicative of total panic and mortification, but I think it’s cute that Beetle has downgraded this to “embarrassment.” I also think it’s cute that Beetle refers calls the gay porn clip they’ve downloaded a “love scene.” I leave open the question of what Sarge is referring to as “shooting.”

Gil Thorp, 2/5/11

Since Gil Thorp doesn’t run on Sundays, we’ve got quite an end-of-week cliffhanger set up here. What are Jefferson’s plans for Milford’s Number 11? More suspense might be generated if anyone anywhere knew any of the various Mudlarks’ uniform numbers.

Apartment 3-G, 2/5/11

Seeing as Trey and Margo are gazing soulfully into each other’s eyes as the car hurtles down the highway in the midst of a dense fog, perhaps Iris hasn’t so much fallen asleep as passed out from terror.