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Man, give Comics Curmudgeon readers access to one wacky Gil Thorp cartoon and about 36 hours, and you get an entire elaborate — and utterly hilarious — backstory for the “Rock and Roll Carole King.” Go back and read the comments on this post. I dare you not to giggle. I dare you.

Meanwhile, faithful reader Trotzenbonnie sent me some pics of her taking her Margo!Boxcar!Saturn! shirt out for a walk in he Big Easy. Here she is sucking down a mojito at Pat O’Brien’s…

…and here she’s showering herself with powdered sugar at Cafe Du Monde.

“My M!B!S! t-shirt was admired by several passers-by who all thought my name must be Margo,” she said. “I liked that.”

Also! I’ve linked to plenty of blogs that focus relentlessly on a single comic strip; in all that time, there’s been a gaping hole in that genre that at last has been filled. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Nobody Loves Rusty, for your all-Mark-Trail-all-the-time needs.

And finally, apparently every Webcomics artist is a secret FBOFW reader.

UPDATE: Will GailMania ever end? Probably! But to cash in on it before that happens, coming Monday there’ll be GAIL MARTIN CONCERT T-SHIRTS available from my CafePress store! The design is by faithful reader Dingo:

He says he’ll update it with more cities over the weekend, so post your suggestions in the comments.

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Pluggers and Slylock Fox, 7/12/07

Pluggers are xenophobes. Hungry, hungry xenophobes.

I feel like there must be something of this dynamic going on in today’s Slylock Fox six differences, too. Why does Buzzy McFlatop harbor such simmering resentment towards the pizza delivery fellow? Presumably he rages inwardly because his children can’t get enough of that ethnic food imported to this great country by unwashed papist immigrants from the filthy Mediterranean countries. If only he could get decent, wholesome American fare delivered, like … um … venison? Turkey? I’m kind of at a loss.

Gil Thorp, 7/12/07

YEAH, BABY, I’M DIGGING MY GIL THORP SUMMER OF TOTAL INSANITY! Why won’t she give you a little kiss? Maybe it’s because she doesn’t feel like smooching the smooth, featureless skin on the front of your head, you no-faced freak. Fortunately, Walter Cronkite is here to come at you at a spatially baffling angle and smack you right in the spot where your mouth should be.

Blondie, 7/12/07

“Also, the front and the back are entirely different colors. Trust me, it’s all the rage this year. The Japanese have been wasting their time on lowering gas mileage, but Detroit’s been investing in the two-tone look.”

Mary Worth, 7/12/07

“Or, to put it another way, what can I do to you … with my penis? Wait, did I say that last part out loud?”

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Gil Thorp, 7/11/07

Ha ha! Oh, man, the Gil Thorp summer hijinks are getting started even more quickly than I could have hoped! I’m totally in love with Gail Martin, the “rock and roll Carole King,” as she was called yesterday; truly, nothing shouts “rock and roll” like a collared shirt and a long braid that you clutch dramatically to your chest while you belt out your non-hits and your banjo player grooves behind you. This looks exactly like the kind of scene where a brawl would break out, and I look forward to tomorrow’s weirdly proportioned and strangely angled fisticuffs. Since Kelly has a troubled past with guys with rage issues, this should provide excellent fuel for one of the eleven rapidly crosscut dramas that will be entertaining us until football practice starts up again.

Apartment 3-G, 7/11/07

Ruby’s dialogue says “funny Texan with more realistic ideals of beauty than these supposedly sophisticated New York City girls,” but her solemn expression in panel three, along with Tommie and Margo’s panicked exchange of glances, says “violent feederism.” In two weeks, look for the two of them to be tied to their chairs, their faces smeared with tangy barbecue sauce, begging for mercy, as Ruby says, “Nuh-uh, Maggie, you still only got one chin!”

Ziggy, 7/11/07

If you thought that the sight of a desperate, insane, bald dwarf with no pants jabbering about the dishonesty of inanimate objects while thrusting a fifteen-year-old household appliance at bemused service worker wouldn’t be funny, well, today’s Ziggy is here to be prove you wrong. I actually laughed aloud at this. Ziggy may continue to exist, as far as I’m concerned.

As I look at it more, I’m sort of hypnotized by the text in Ziggy’s word balloon. The symmetry between the sentence-initial “i” (lowercase, in defiance of all known typographical conventions) and the final exclamation mark, makes it look like he’s actually shouting “T lies!” in Spanish. Which, for my money, is even funnier.

Luann, 7/11/07

I’m only marginally less sick of Brad-Toni than I am of Curtis-Michelle, but this sequence is growing on me. If Toni ends up running off with uberskeeze TJ because of his cooking (or “cooking”) skills, I will be willing to forgive a lot that’s happened in the last few years.

Dick Tracy, 7/11/07

It just wouldn’t be Dick Tracy if the payoff didn’t include somebody writhing around in pain. This isn’t the optimistic fantasy land of Mark Trail; those eyes aren’t growing back.

Family Circus, 7/11/07

Hmm, what’s the most alarming part of this? Yeah, I’m going to have to say that it’s Big Daddy Keane’s little smile.

Gasoline Alley, 7/11/07

Gasoline Alley: the one comic strip that isn’t afraid to show you how the system is stacked against the white man.

Spider-Man, 7/11/07

In a strip that brought us such epic battles as Dr. Octopus vs. his television, Spidey vs. a bowl-hatted butler, Spidey vs. his own outdated ideas of economics and gender, and, of course Spidey vs. a brick, today’s struggle between J. Jonah Jameson and Larry King may represent a dramatic zenith.

And, finally, I’m sure sexy toast-eating is somebody’s fetish, so:

Panel from Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/11/07

Go to town, perverts!