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Dennis the Menace, 10/20/15

The angry look Mr. Wilson is flashing Mrs. Wilson here ought to send a chill down anyone’s spine. One assumes that, like their namesake characters in Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Woolf, the frustrated, childless George and Martha have an imaginary son that they discuss only with each other as part of their cruel banter, and now Dennis is getting too close to the truth. Unless … Dennis is their imaginary son? Will he wink out of existence, once he becomes self-aware?

Funky Winkerbean, 10/20/15

Hey, remember the interminable storyline where Holly became a comics nerd so she could put together a complete Starbucks Jones collection together for her son Cory, who was off in Afghanistan, and this helped her feel close to him when he was far away and in grave danger? In related news, remember how Cory’s main deal before the time-jump was that he was an insufferable, ungrateful little shit, and it was never quite clear whether or not military life had cured him of it?

Gasoline Alley, 10/20/15

Hey, remember beloved comics characters Mutt and Jeff from days of yore? Well, Mutt’s the only one left. Jeff’s dead now.

Heathcliff, 10/20/15

Haha, wouldn’t it be funny if James Bond didn’t wear pants, and drank water out of the toilet?

Six Chix, 10/20/15

LOL LADIES ALWAYS EXPECTING YOU TO INTERACT WITH ’EM WHADDYA GONNA DO AMIRGHT FELLAS

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Apartment 3-G, 10/9/15

Oh man, kind of a bummer that Margo’s mom’s psychic Latina (?) powers worked to save her daughter’s dumb roommate but not her daughter! Though maybe that’s because, as you can tell by comparing that strip from 2007 to this one, Margo’s mother has been replaced by someone else entirely.

Funky Winkerbean, 10/9/15

Gotta assume that Mason is towards the depressive end of his bipolar cycle, and was just overcome with exhaustion and ennui such that he had to pause for a few seconds between the syllables “bipolar” to gather his energy. Because otherwise Cindy would’ve just blurted something out in mid-word, and that doesn’t make any sense at all!

Pluggers, 10/9/15

Pluggers don’t just give companies money in exchange for goods or services; they construct an identity by conspicuously displaying loyalty to their favorite brands. Pluggers, so silly, amiright? (Haha, just kidding, we all construct our identities out of our relationships with corporate entities to one degree or another. The matrix of capitalism is inescapable!)

Hi and Lois, 10/9/15

Haha, fellas, turns out if you want to have a romantic relationship with someone you have to do things that interest them! Women, whaddyagonnado?

Heathcliff, 10/9/15

As that coin hit the water deep in the wishing well, all across the world, all at once, the innumerable cloacae of innumerable birds squeezed shut forever. A few hours later, the birds began to explode in bursts of guts and feces and feathers — at first just one here and there, then more and more frequently, until everyone on the planet was deafened by the awful, repulsive noise.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/2/15

I don’t remember the circumstances and I can’t find it my archives now, but that boat … well, you’ll be extremely unsurprised to know that somebody just gave the Morgans that boat, for free, in exchange for I can’t remember what now but probably just their general awesomeness. Anyway, today’s strip is just proof that the “gift economy,” in which you give people you like things that you think they should have at your whim, can be converted into a money economy pretty fast. Will that boat sell on Craigslist for like half of whatever the people who gave it to Rex and June paid for it? Who cares! As long it can buy them this delightful cabin, they’re fine with it! (Also, someone will obviously be paying more than asking price for this boat, are you kidding me, these are the Morgans we’re talking about here, only good things happen to them.)

Heathcliff, 10/2/15

Cats find it romantic when you grip them tightly and use your prehensile lips to kiss the back of their necks, I guess? Also, the fact that this makeout is taking place on top of a profoundly phallic stack of garbage cans is a nice touch.