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Blondie, 6/19/18

Apparently Blondie HQ finally got wind of the insanely dumb Rick and Morty fan riots at McDonald’s over Szechuan Sauce, and decided to tackle it as only they can, which is to say by taking care not to infringe on anybody else’s intellectual property. Still, I like the idea that in Dagwood’s imagination the dispute stops being about a specific kind of sauce and just becomes about sauce as a general category, and also that it only took nine signs before they got to extremely stilted phrases like “Unfair to sauce cravers” and “Stop the sauce withholding madness!”

Judge Parker, 6/19/18

“I ask that you hold all questions until the very end. Particularly about the spelling of my name, which, as I’ve already established, is M-A-H-L-E-R. Harold is spelled the usual way. I’m not sure how you spell Godiva. Ahem. At approximately 9:30 am, Ms. Danube’s body w–” “Commander Mahler! How do you spell ‘Danube?’” “God damn it, what did I say?”

Mary Worth, 6/19/18

“I’m close to my mom too. She’s still young and hot though, and has an extremely active sex life. [as Brandy’s weeping intensifies] How horny was your mom, Brandy?”

Mark Trail, 6/19/18

“Settle down, Rusty! Rambunctious little boys are the first to be sacrificed.”

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Beetle Bailey, 6/6/18

May 27, 1994: the day the Pentagon ordered General Halftrack’s troops to prepare to be deployed to support Operation Deny Flight in the Balkans, and, receiving no reply, determined that the existence of “Camp Swampy” in their records must be some kind of clerical error.

Crock, 6/6/18

It’s fairly grim that Schmeese has spent years tied to a post, awaiting the imminent execution by firing squad that never seems to come, and I’m glad to see Lt. Poulet acknowledge that this is just part of a larger pathology on the part of the Legion — that a seeming eternity engaged in this grinding colonial war has driven him and his fellow soldiers mad and capable of any kind of cruelty.

Funky Winkerbean, 6/6/18

Never has the process of creating art and the final artistic creation itself dovetailed so closely together as they do in the “Claude Barlow” Funky Winkerbean strips, in which a man writes truly awful puns and then smirks to himself in unbearable self-satisfaction.

Judge Parker, 6/6/18

“Plus we hear you’re fucking Randy Parker, and that’s gotta be a great way to get the inside info you need to break some stories, right?”

Family Circus, 6/6/18

The fact that this panel doesn’t depict Jeffy attempting to eat the candle just shows that the Family Circus lacks the courage of its convictions

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Gil Thorp, 4/2/18

Sorry, Marty: while all-high-school-sports radio is more than willing to overlook a little light racism, they cannot abide the ultimate sin in broadcasting, which is accidentally blurting out swear words on the air. Anyway, today’s strip contains one of the greatest things any Gil Thorp can present to us, which is a panel of Marty Moon looking desperately unhappy as he realizes that he is once again the cause of every major disaster in his own life. This is even better than the time he quietly wept in his car after being golf-grifted by a Ben Franklin lookalike, because you can get a much better look at his face. His crumpled, sad, devastated face.

Judge Parker, 4/2/18

Wow, for a strip that has traditionally moved at about the speed of plate tectonics, Judge Parker has leapt from Randy doing some extremely mild flirting to Randy doing some smug and blatantly post-coital smirking in lightning time! Anyway, the important thing is that unlike certain soap opera hunks we could mention, Randy has nipples, thank you very much.

Blondie, 4/2/18

I’ve been a daily reader of Blondie for decades and … I’m pretty much wholly unaware of Alexander’s sports career? I mean, he sometimes wears a letterman jacket but I just assumed that was an ossified visual signifier letting us know he’s in high school rather than some specific reference to his varsity status. The sad truth is that Blondie spends infinitely more time dwelling on Dagwood’s relationship with various fast-food drive through speakerphones than it does on his relationship with his own son — which means that by prompting this chain of thought, today’s strip is really just reaffirming its own thesis, so, well played, Blondie.

The Lockhorns, 4/2/18

Sorry, Loretta, take it from a guy who singularly failed to cash in when he had the chance: the blog-to-book deal hasn’t really been a thing since, like, the mid-late ’00s.

Beetle Bailey, 4/2/18

Beetle definitely murdered someone with that hammer, right?