Archive: Lockhorns

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Six Chix, 8/13/19

For some reason I’ve always had it in my head that birds and other animals with cloacae can’t actually control their bowel movements, and that poop or pee or what have you just kind of slides out whenever. A little research, though, taught me that birds can in fct be potty trained, although small ones like budgies have to go every few minutes and they can really hurt themselves if they hold it for too long! I’m telling you this because want all of you to appreciate the disgusting research I do so I don’t convey inaccurate information when I make my dumb poop jokes about a comic strip nobody likes. Anyway, I guess the point is that that bird probably could’ve avoided pooping on that kid if he had wanted to, but, like his friend says, it’s cool. Kids love it when animals shit on them, at parties!

Funky Winkerbean, 8/13/19

I would be going on at great length about how weird it is that this strip concludes with Mindy shooting bedroom eyes at Mopey Pete implying “Sexual delights await you if you, a noted non-jock, are able to score a victory at a carnival game of the sort that’s notoriously rigged, just like my grandfather, a well-known-asshole, was able to do,” except I’m thoroughly distracted by the fact that that’s clearly not her hand holding the baseball. It’s not, right? It’s too big and it’s at the wrong angle. “Easy, Pete, Easy,” poor Mopey Pete is thinking to himself. “Wait till she’s distracted, and then run.

The Lockhorns, 8/13/19

Ahh, Loretta has finally made a friend, or at least a social acquaintance, and so Leroy knows what to do as soon she arrives, before she’s even had a chance to set down her purse: performatively pour himself a very large glass of brown liquor, knowing that Loretta will inevitably make some wisecrack, with whole scene ensuring this lady will never come back. The Lockhorns really delivered on its core schtick today, and I for one appreciate it.

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The Lockhorns, 8/7/19

I gotta say, I kind of respect the way today’s Lockhorns is bleak and depressing in a somewhat different register from the typical bleak and depressing scenarios it dishes out. Loretta stares heavy-lidded at the formless, off-yellow square she’s been knitting seemingly forever now. What is it? Why is she doing it? Does she have any goal in mind? Does she derive any pleasure from it, or conversely, would it make her even sadder to stop? None of these are questions she has answers for. She’s just knitting to pass the time. Leroy, crumple-mouthed, has a brief and unaccustomed flash of sympathy for his wife. He’d like to help soothe whatever formless emotion compels Loretta to keep knitting, but he knows that the emotional gulf between them is far too vast, now, and has been for years.

Mary Worth, 8/7/19

So far the Dawn-Hugo storyline has been relatively free from conflict, except for the fact that Hugo is kind of an asshole. Now we see the real engine for the summer’s drama unfolding: Hugo is eventually going to have to … go back to France! You know, if Hugo’s return to his homeland corresponds the point in the relationship where his assholitude starts to outweigh his hotness, these are two conflicts that could really cancel each other out and save everyone involved a whole lot of trouble.

Judge Parker, 8/7/19

Honestly, this would be a much more dramatic development if it were remotely possible to tell the icy, violent blondes of Judge Parker apart. That’s … not April, right? Probably Sam would recognize her, if she were April?

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Panel from The Lockhorns, 8/4/19

Since Leroy and Loretta have apparently been condemned to some hell-dimension where they’ll torture each other for all eternity, it’s not surprising that the sick burns they’ll lay on each other will eventually start getting increasingly baroque, and I’m here for it. Hyperinflation-based insults? Sure! “That’s the the b.-pengő note of suits,” Loretta says, looking Leroy up and down with contempt.

Mary Worth, 8/4/19

Wait, hold up! What form of water will Dawn be showing her skills off in next? A river? A lake? One of those infinity pool things? An underground sewer? Hugo hasn’t seen noting yet — but he’s never going to find out what’s in store for him if he keeps wasting time with all these makeouts!

Funky Winkerbean, 8/4/19

The title character, seeking medical care for his aging and decaying body, lets loose a sci-fi pop culture quip with no apparent context (is the chair he’s sitting in … supposed to be like Captain Kirk’s chair? is this cramped, crowded office supposed to be like the Enterprise’s bridge?) while ostensibly smiling but in a really angry-looking, aggressive way, basically daring anyone to question him; his interlocutor, stands staring dumbly at him looking crushed by the overall weight of life and his disappointment in it. I believe we’ve finally created the perfect Funky Winkerbean.