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Family Circus, 11/12/07

Christ almighty, what is the deal with the Keane kids and their asses? Someone needs to explain to little Jeffy the basics of literal and metaphorical human anatomy, pronto, before he starts complaining about a “broken heart,” “offering up his heart” to his first love, “wearing his heart on his sleeve,” and other scenarios that don’t even bear thinking about it.

When I first saw this cartoon, I thought Jeffy and his mom were looking out the window, and that a spontaneous act of Veterans Day (Observed) flag approbation was going on in their front yard. This could have made Jeffy not just stupid but dangerously stupid, as the gathered vets might have thought that he was bringing shame to the flag with his ass-clutching and decided to beat him up. This of course would have been hilarious, especially if some of the really old guys had taken the lead (imagine him being held down by a couple of 73-year-old Korean War vets while an 84-year-old comes at him with the same bayonet he used at Guadalcanal). However, since they’re actually watching the Patriotism Channel on their enormous flat-screen TV, Jeffy is only shaming his household, which is nothing new.

Slylock Fox, 11/12/07

The sight of Slylock dickering with some kind of smallish mammalian taxi driver (a monkey, maybe?) over cab fare while the as-usual moronic bunnies stare on dumbly is probably the funniest thing I’ve seen today. I would say that the taxi driver’s sudden attack of deafness is less “a mystery to be solved” and more “the driver being kind of a dick.” On the other hand, maybe there’s some history here that we’re not privy to. (“How did Murray Monkey know that he should give Slylock the incorrect change? Solution — Because the cheap bastard never tipped on any of his previous trips to the airport, and his picture is taped to the dashboard of every cab in town.”)

I know that Max is clambering into the trunk to get out the comparatively enormous suitcase because he can’t actually reach it from the curb, but I’d like to imagine that Slylock and/or the driver actually made him ride back there for the entire way. “Sorry, Max, no rodents in the car!”

They’ll Do It Every Time, 11/12/07

Who’ll do it every time? Why, Comics Curmudgeon readers, of course! “Donna Normington” is really none other than our own Mountain Momma. I have to say that I’m impressed by her limber nature — I don’t think I could ring the doorbell with my foot while carrying two bags full of groceries! And I hope her hubby appreciates his buck-toothed caricature.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 11/12/07

Whoa, check out those tiger-striped suspenders on Lem! Hot. HOTT. This is what happens when the International Male catalog starts delivering to Hootin’ Holler.

And finally, I leave you with a stunning find from faithful reader Jym. In his own words:

On October 10, 1987, I encountered what I recognized as the Rosetta Stone of Mark Trail strips. A young motorcycle hooligan had disrupted a teen-themed outdoor adventure with his infernal racket, but we got some inkling that he maybe wasn’t all bad. This strip showed us exactly what he needed to do to reveal himself as a worthy citizen.

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Garfield, 11/10/07

OK, Garfield, I thought you and I had a deal. An unspoken agreement. But now that you’ve gone and broken it, I think I need to spell out the terms.

Here’s how it works:

• I continue to read you, despite the fact that you’ve been built around the same half-dozen or so lame jokes for as long as I can remember and are a soulless corporate shell of a comic designed to sell adorable plush dolls and vaguely sarcastic greeting cards.
• And in return, all I ask is that you don’t make me look up any words in the God-damned dictionary.

Don’t let this happen again.

Mark Trail, 11/10/07

Ah, Johnny, you know that there’s no problem that can’t be solved in the high-stakes world of boutique, full-service wilderness tourism that can’t be solved with a double-barreled shotgun. As Bull Malone lies gut-shot and squirming in front of their tent, it’s going to dawn on those big-city businessmen that they’ve gotten way more than they bargained for. Somebody’s going to be getting a terrible review on TripAdvisor.com, I tell you what.

Beetle Bailey, 11/10/07

Today in Beetle Bailey: When second-generation artists rediscover characters created when the original artists read the Cliff Notes to Catch-22!

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Well, “review,” anyway. If I may be so bold as to quote faithful reader eyeballpupil, who posted this comment on the last thread:

You guys! Mark Trail Family Theatre was great. There was a bear, and hunky Mark Trail, and naughty sexy Kelly, and Josh! as Ranger Rick with a southern accent. The picture of the bear on the toilet was surprisingly topical. And a special guest appearance at the very end! I won’t spoil the surprise for those of you going to the Saturday shows, you’ll have a great time.

Thanks for your kind words, eyeballpupil, and thanks for coming! (By the way, eyeballpupil, are you the same person as faithful reader Livia [or possibly Olivia, there was a lot of ambient noise while we were talking] who I chatted with a bit last night? If not, then also: Hi Livia [or possibly Olivia]!)

So, there you have it: you’re coming, that’s settled. And, Baltimore-area fans: Faithful reader Minivet is taking the train in from out of town around 5 p.m. and wants to meet up with someone! Show your Charm City hospitality by making arrangements in the forum, or send me your contact info and I’ll forward your address onto him. (I actually met him briefly at SPX last month and he is a charming fellow.)