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Cleats, 1/22/10

On those occasions when I think of Cleats, I think of “gentle (to the point of blandness) humor punctuated by bouts of unspeakable horror.’ This week’s installment, focusing on the whimsical subject of “Bigfoot football,” has mostly been on the gentle-to-the-point-of-blandness side, but only today did I notice that the Sasquatches are using the withered corpse of a beaver as their ball. So that’s something, I guess.

Family Circus, 1/22/10

Dolly, you panderer! The snowman and snowlady should not be left alone in the yard together until they’re married. This is exactly the sort of ideas you get from public schooling.

Hi and Lois, 1/22/10

Chip’s friend is wearing a little hat secured to his head with some sort of elastic chin strap, so, yeah, it’s probably a good idea that he’s reading Style magazine in the second panel.

The poster on the wall indicates that the boys are fans of Paul Butterfield Blues Band keyboardist Mark Naftalin, which is a little disappointing to me because at first glance I just thought they were proponents of free trade.

Mary Worth, 1/22/10

You’ve gotta feel bad for Dawn as she angrily swoops and dances around the nervous Mary. Not long ago her boyfriend cheated on her with another woman, and now she finds out that her father’s sperm cheated with another egg, before she was even born! I have to say that her withering “something” in the second panel is the piece of Mary Worth dialogue most loaded down with contempt since Mary threw “Capisce?” in Aldo’s face.

Spider-Man, 1/22/10

“He thinks I can point him to Wolverine! And he’ll keep attacking me until I do! Unless — I run away, like a coward! Yes, that’s it! Ha ha, can’t catch me, I have the proportional pusillanimity of a spider!”

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Hi and Lois, 1/21/10

Uh oh, it looks like that damn Women’s Lib has ruined storytime forever, am I right, fellas? Used to be little girls would hear medieval tales about being rescued from dragons and becoming some handsome man’s property and just eat it up, but now they want, like, social and economic autonomy and shit. The befuddled look on Hi and Ditto’s faces shows that they know that patriarchy has been fatally undermined.

Of course, Hi appears to be reading not so much out of a storybook as from a few pieces of loose-leaf paper folded down the middle to form a crude booklet with “ONCE UPON A TIME” scrawled across the front. Perhaps the inside is filled mostly with Hi’s rantings about how the 19th amendment brought about a gynocentric tyranny, which makes Dot’s response all the more reasonable.

Herb and Jamaal, 1/21/10

Herb seems to have been possessed by an extremely mellow demon, which has compelled him to casually pull the Bible off the shelf and spit on it. The holy book responds to this assault by releasing thick clouds of acrid smoke. Who will win this low-stakes battle for Herb’s immortal soul?

Mark Trail, 1/21/10

Meanwhile, the sinister Parker Brothers have struck at the … dudes … in the canoe … who I don’t know who they are … by running their outboard motor at them? I guess? Oh, that’s a punching for that, that is.

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Blondie, 12/23/09

As is sadly typical, the actual punchline in today’s Blondie is so gentle as to be essentially undetectable, but I confess that I like the visual gag. Generally, when the Bumsteads’ shop, they end up with packages ludicrously stacked in their arms in structurally improbable configurations. Today’s strip takes this to its logical conclusion, with a series of boxes just sort of floating in a cloud around Blondie, without any visible means of support.

Mark Trail, 12/23/09

OH YEAH MARK TRAIL JUST PUNCHED A COP RIGHT IN THE FUCKIN’ FACE! This is the greatest Christmas gift you or I or anyone else will receive this year. Note that the mighty blow has miraculously dislodged the car keys that Mark and the lawmen were discussing in the previous panel; Mark’s fists are unerring plot-device-seeking projectiles.

Hi and Lois, 12/23/09

Add another entry to the “call social services on the Flagstons” file: the apparently unsupervised Trixie is just eating garbage she finds under the furniture now.

Herb and Jamaal, 12/23/09

I’ve been reading this strip for going on five years now, and more or less against my will I’ve actually accumulated some knowledge about the title characters. For instance, here’s what I know about Jamaal: He’s a firefighter, he’s in love with his fellow firefighter Yolanda, his name is “Jamaal J. Jamaal,” and — a relevant detail about today’s installment — he’s a former professional basketball player. Since today he’s challenging his gnomish best friend to a game of one on one, I’m guessing I’m going to have to add “he’s a cruel bastard who needs to boost his fragile ego by demolishing poor Herb on the court” to that list.

Apartment 3-G, 12/23/09

“To be more specific: I hope you like them enough that you’ll let me trade these poinsettias I stole from the Macy’s window display for more sleeping pills!”