Post Content

Luann, 4/22/05

Like, oh my God, Luann’s going to do the high school drama storyline that never ever fails to entertain: one person, one dance, two dates! I’m sure we have several weeks of stressful wackiness in store as Gunther tries to figure out how to say no to either Luann or Bernice (who asked him yesterday, for those not following along), possibly living in fear and panic until the night of the dance itself, when the monstrousness of his deception becomes apparent and both young women, their faith in their fellow humans tragically abused, discover Gunther’s two-timing and stalk off, enraged, with none of the three ever talking to any of the others ever again. Oh, the hilarity!

For the record, as a high school student my social situation bore a passing resemblance to Gunther’s, and for me the scenario played itself out a little differently. First, I wouldn’t ask anyone out because I was too terrified. Then, nobody would ask me out because they didn’t like me or (more likely) didn’t know I existed. Finally, the night of the dance, I would stay home and read Isaac Asimov novels or watch Perfect Strangers on TV. The end.

Post Content

An embarrassment of riches in today’s funny pages! I present to you five one-panel short takes.

From Luann, 4/18/05

I dare you to use the phrase “She’s a honey … but you’re sugar” in conversation with someone with whom you’re trying to ingratiate yourself romantically. I dare you.

From Apartment 3-G, 4/18/05

And by “she,” I’m pretty sure she means Margo. “Seriously, I can’t believe they let you in. What are you doing here?”

From Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/18/05

“Why weren’t you invited? Because Buck likes men, June. Real men with cleft chins and tight jeans and thick coats of forearm hair. Now you make sure that thumbsucker is out of my sight and my breakfast is ready by the time I’m back from the tent-pitching, you hear?”

From Mary Worth, 4/18/05

Be careful what you wish for: after three weeks of Mary filing patient reports, you will beg to see Anna and Brian quoting Richard Bach at one another again.

From B.C., 4/18/05

No, but seriously: what the f— oh, why do I even bother?

Post Content

I admit to having been slack over the past few days, forcing you to hit Refresh on your browser over and over again, hoping to see a new post here and being mocked by an ad for Comics Curmudgeon tchotchkes. (An offer almost nobody has taken up, incidentally. Come on, don’t you know that everyone will worship you like a new god if you wear a “More zippers, mule!” t-shirt?) To make it up to you, I offer you not one, not two, but three fresh comics for today.

B.C., 2/1/05

I don’t think Jesus likes that punchline very much, Johnny. Also, I don’t really get the grandpa angle of the joke, nor the being-hip angle. If you’re going to set up this joke — and, I need to emphasize, I really don’t think you should — then you could probably find a better way to go about doing it.

Luann, 2/1/05

To my mind, this is the funniest Luann in weeks. It’s also evidence that a strip doesn’t need to have a punchline per se to be funny. Things I like about it: Brad casually saying “Whatev.” (complete with period) while raising one eyebrow, in panel one; T.J. solemnly offering a box of Oreos to Brad’s grave; the poem on Brad’s imaginary tombstone (you probably can’t read it in this graphic, but it reads “Brad DeGroot/ Ran out of luck/ Fell in love/ Forgot to duck); and the fact that T.J. hasn’t felt the need to dress up for his visit to the graveyard.

T.J. appears to have an earing, something I never noticed before. You’ll also notice that he’s entirely mum on the subject of dealing with sexual pressure.

Mark Trail, 2/1/05

Never mind the thrashing around, Mark; maybe you should STOP SHOUTING! I swear, if I were a shark, I’d eat him just to shut him up.