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For many of us, the past six months have been a little rough. If the Comics Curmudgeon helped smooth things out, why not return the favor?



To contribute by PayPal® or credit card, click the banner. To send cash, check, fruitcake or loose gemstones, reach me at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net for the address. Either way, thank you!

Why would any comic strip merely amuse or entertain its readers, when it could Speak Out on Important Concerns of Today’s Youth — who will totally not laugh at pathetic attempts to imitate their slang! Word up? For sha-zizzle, bros — and brosettes!

Crankshaft, 4/16/09

Hey, kids — don’t cheat! Because cheating cheats you and the game — and that helps the game win! You love the game, don’t you? Of course you do — that’s why you want it to win! And if that means you have to lose, well, suck it up! Get on the damn juice — for the sake of the game! Um, wait a minute; I’m a little confused here. Weren’t we supposed to have a flashback or something? CUE THE DAMN FLASHBACK!

Curtis, 4/16/09

Hey, kids — be true to yourselves, and all your dreams will come true. Of course, they’ll probably come true for somebody else — somebody whose idea of “true to himself” involves shameless ass-kissing.

Mark Trail, 4/16/09

Hey, kids — don’t smoke! And don’t become criminals! But if you do become criminals — really, really stupid criminals — don’t go out for an all-afternoon fishing trip without your smokes, because that is not how addiction works. At least do something right, fer Chrissake!

Spider-Man, 4/16/09

Hey, kids — do you know what to do in the event of an electrical fire? Do you:

• Stop it with a rubber mat? NO! — It will just bat the mat away — like a foul ball!
• Douse it with water? NO! — Water won’t douse an electrical fire — loser!
• Dress it up in a ridiculous spiky outfit? NO! — Electrical fires have no shame, and will appear in public thus garbed!
• Stop it with a can of sand? NO! — I pan your can of sand, my man — electric fires withstand such plans!
• Perhaps if I employed a bucket? NO! — and watch your damn mouth, kid!
• Well, what if I call Spider-Man? OK, you’re just messing with me now.

Zippy the Pinhead, 4/16/09

Well, maybe not “Slim Jim.” But we’re with you the rest of the way, pal.

What the hell is wrong with these people? — an occasional feature!

Edge City, 4/6, 9, 10, 14, 15, 16/09

What the hell is wrong with these people?

— Uncle Lumpy

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Newspapers close and shrink, but the funny pages still matter. Send Josh a couple of bucks to help keep the dream alive!

It’s the Spring Pledge Drive for the Comics Curmudgeon! Click above or here to keep the Comics Curmudgeon strong and independent. Thank you!

Far be it from this blog to neglect one of its core missions: monitoring the glacial progress of legacy soap strips, so you don’t have to. Because believe me, you don’t want to! Let’s dive right in:

Apartment 3-G, 4/15/09

In Apartment 3-G, aimless maniac Doc Joe rushes to rekidnap his children after leaving them in Tommie’s care. But Doc Joe is confused: Tommie‘s not the dope — that’s LuAnn! Tommie is the pushover. You’d think somebody who looks like everybody else would see the differences — hell, they’re color-coded for you! At least nobody mixes up Margo. Not more than once, anyway.

As for Tommie’s logic in panels two and three: “Joe will be pleased I’ve surrendered his children to the vicious harpy who calls him a rat and warns me to lock the door. Oh, listen — here he is now!” Ha ha — what a dope!

Mary Worth, 4/15/09

But has there ever been a dope like Adrian? In the space of a few days, she learns some guy she met on a Santa Royale Fan Site:

1. claims to be a victim of identity theft
2. claims to have been bilked by a crooked partner
3. can’t make good on his ostentatious promise to her father
4. claims to have been laid off from his long-time flashy job
5. claims to have a sister in hock to the Mob
6. presses her to wire fifty large to said sister
7. never really had that flashy job anyway.

“B – b – but he calls me ‘Queenie'”!

Judge Parker, 4/15/09

In Judge Parker, we’re spending the week buffing the reputations of Rocky Ledge and Godiva Danube: it’s only Wednesday, and already the couple could elbow aside Venerable John Henry Newman in the canonization line. Good lookers, green energy entrepreneurs, economic saviors of Parkerville, with geeky names, six adopted children, and success in their chosen careers — plus supporters of the troops and plain ol’ rural folk to boot! Farmin’ folk! Boy Howdy!

“Wussat, Bru? Another Nobel Prize? Sheee-it! Whut’s thiss’n for? Litrichur? Bodacious! Cain’t even spell it, and now I are one! Throw it on the dang pile with Peace and Economics, and pop me anuther cold one, woncha darlin’ — NASCAR‘s on!”

Drăguţ vreme, everybody!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Twice a year, I try to raise some money for Josh and this blog from reader contributions. It’s completely voluntary, but a good way to keep the Comics Curmudgeon going as a more-than-amateur but definitely-not-corporate voice. Please help if you can!



Please click above or here to keep the Comics Curmudgeon strong and independent. Thank you!

Piranha Club, 4/14/09

Mallard Fillmore meets Momma, and may God have mercy on us all.

Crankshaft, 4/14/09

Crankshaft is an Illiterate Moron meets Afterschool Special, and meh — what else is new?

Mark Trail, 4/14/09

Jack Elrod famously draws animals with far more care and detail than he does humans. So we can only assume that panel-three Rusty here has begun his horrifying transformation into Squirrel-Squirt, or Beaver-Boy, or some damn thing.

Funky Winkerbean, 4/14/09

Les “Ask Me About My Dead Wife” Moore utters those words every woman longs to hear, as his paramour’s rival wonders what scope she can afford for her Mauser SR-93. Oh, and good luck getting rid of those tickets on Stub Hub, honey.

— Uncle Lumpy