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Beetle Bailey, 5/30/07

While I’m not a morning person and sympathize with Beetle’s attitude, I’m a little unnerved by the way he goes about expressing it. Specifically, who exactly is he ordering to “go away” and “leave me alone”? It seems that he’s so haunted by this world that he’s addressing existence generally, preferring the icy numbness of sleep or even death to consciousness. Alternately, since he is Trixie Flagston’s uncle, he may be railing against her buddy Sunbeam, hinting that this is a relationship that can go sour once you grow up.

Gil Thorp, 5/30/07

I had high hopes that crafty old Clambake was going to launch into a detailed treatise on just when and how you launch a beanball at a batter for maximum psychological impact. Instead, he appears to be giving young Elmer a “we black folks have it much harder than you Mexicans or whatever ever will so shut your yap whippersnapper” speech, which will inevitably result in either a soul-searching look at prejudice in a new, multiethnic America or an all-out race war, neither of which I’m interested in seeing in Gil Thorp, now or ever.

It’s nice to see the most personable and attractive Gil Thorp recurring character in panel three. I’m talking, of course, about the disembodied alien claw-thing perched on Elmer’s shoulder. It sure loves to sit on people’s shoulders, but it don’t mean no harm to nobody.

Hi and Lois, 5/30/07

I’d fling my food at my parents too if they tried to feed me that undifferentiated inky black goo. It’s like a bowl of finely minced despair.

Mary Worth, 5/30/07

Mary Worth is looking more skeletal and Nancy Reagan-esque than ever in panel two. I have no idea whose enormous hands those are flapping around in front of her, but they clearly aren’t hers. Perhaps they were once attached to her latest hapless victim, the remainder of whom is baking in a casserole dish back in her apartment, to be force-fed to Vera later this evening.

Slylock Fox, 5/30/07

I know it’s all part of the Great Cycle of Barnyard Life, but, like the duck in the pond, I am a little unnerved to see that fox’s last moment of happiness before the farmer beats him to death with that stick. I guess the lesson is: if you’re a fox and you like getting into other people’s business, get a cape and a deerstalker hat and learn to spout some deduction-y sounding bullshit. Otherwise, you’re fair game.

Ziggy, 5/30/07

Ha ha! Ziggy is going to die of smallpox, because he’s poor!

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They’ll Do It Every Time, 5/26/07

For many, TDIET is a glimpse into a kinder, gentler past, when doctors and nurses wore bright white starched uniforms and little kids of both genders wore plaid vests and inevitably responded to obscenity with a hearty “Oh, what you sa-a-a-a-i-d.” But today’s installment for me offers a look into the future — specifically, my future wearing dentures. Who knew that this seemingly innocuous prosthetic device came with its own elaborate code of shame? Who knew that breaking your dentures while eating is somehow socially acceptable to explain to a licensed dental professional, but that breaking your dentures while brushing them is not? I think I’ll redouble my flossing efforts so as to avoid ever having to navigate this complex sea of lies.

Herb and Jamaal, 5/26/07

Yes, isn’t it odd that people are willing to idly pass the time discussing potentially untrue things written in a modern publication, but aren’t willing to wholeheartedly base their moral code and belief system about how the universe works on the exact wording of a series of books written between three thousand and seventeen hundred years ago and painstakingly copied by hand by semiliterates over and over again in the intervening centuries? I sure see exactly how this might confuse you.

On another note, I dare you to brightly say the following to one of your friends: “Wow, check out the latest on the hotel socialite! The stuff they say about her really makes you think, doesn’t it?” I’m pretty sure you’ll soon find yourself in an interrogation room at CIA headquarters, since obviously the only person who would construct such a sentence would be a sinister robot scouting out our planet and reporting back to an alien invasion fleet.

Pluggers, 5/26/07

Wow, I was really torn between saying “Pluggers are almost unfathomably lazy” and “Pluggers really don’t understand how this stuff works,” but then I realized that I didn’t have to choose! That made me feel better.

Gil Thorp, 5/26/07

“That’s right, I have it on good authority that he’s being scouted by the Baltimore Elite Giants and the Pittsburgh Keystones! Believe me, Mike’s got what it takes to have a real future in the Negro leagues.”

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Dennis the Menace, 5/24/07

Dennis’ black, shriveled heart does not understand this feeling you call “love.”

Gil Thorp, 5/24/07

The Lady Mudlark softball team ought to forget about breast cancer and get Brynna Antenna to a reconstructive surgeon who can do something about her leathery mask of a face.

Family Circus, 5/24/07

Billy will go far.

For Better Or For Worse, 5/24/07

April can destroy things with her mind.

The Lockhorns, 5/24/07

The Lockhorns’ marriage is so depressing that it defies all human understanding.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 5/24/07

Child labor is alive and well in Appalachia, or the Ozarks, or wherever the hell this strip is supposed to be set.

Pluggers, 5/24/07

Or died. He may well be dead.