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Marmaduke, 3/17/09

Hello, Comics Curmudgeon readers! We interrupt your usual “Marmaduke eats people” joke to bring you the following “Marmaduke participates in bestiality” joke:

Marmaduke has somehow managed to displace his male owner from his bed, if you know what I mean, and I think you do.

Thanks for tuning in to this special “Marmaduke participates in bestiality” joke! We now return you to your regularly scheduled program.

Marmaduke has somehow managed to displace his male owner from his bed, probably by eating him.

Beetle Bailey, 3/17/09

I suppose there are some legitimate, military-related reasons as to why a U.S. Army general might stand in front of a line graph and talk about declining numbers of some sort to a bunch of people sitting around a long table, and I could try to think of some, but … look, you and I both know that’s not how it went down over at the Beetle Bailey division of Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Enterprises LLC. I think it went more like this:

1. Hey, I thought of a joke that would work well in a boardroom, because of the recession!
2. Hmm, our strip takes place in a military environment. Can we make it work somehow?
3. No. But everyone else gets to make recession jokes. It’s not fair!
4. Hey, I have an idea! Let’s use the joke anyway!
5. [Sound of golf bags being hoisted onto shoulders]

Apartment 3-G, 3/17/09

“At last, [name of A3G girl]’s going to live out her ultimate fantasy — a three-way with two dudes who look exactly alike! Oh, wait, I just described every M-F-M three-way in the Apartment 3-G universe.” –Josh Fruhlinger, December 4, 2008.

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Mark Trail, 3/11/09

With each passing day, it becomes harder for me to imagine going back to my vision of Mark Trail as a lovable idiot savant who loves nature and punching smugglers; now he will forever be known as an abuse enabler, ready to stoke the fires of domestic violence hell for women who dare to enter their husbands’ field of vision when he’s having business troubles, just has he’s literally stoking the fires in his fireplace in panel two. I’m sure looking forward to seeing that magazine story, the thesis of which will be “Ladies! If you’re thinking about keeping a wild animal as a pet, get some advice, or you’re gonna get beat up!” Hopefully it will be published in Cosmo, the better to reach its target audience of women, rather than in Mark’s usual wildlife magazine, which is read by nobody.

The only faint glimmer of hope is that Ken and Patty are apparently going to adopt their baby — or rather, will apply to adopt a baby, and will be immediately turned down by the adoption agency when the terrifying dynamic of their relationship becomes obvious about thirty seconds into the home visit. I mean, that’s what’s going to happen, right? RIGHT? Oh, who am I kidding — this is Lost Forest! Probably the social worker will show up, note that Ken doesn’t have facial hair, check the medicine cabinet to make sure supplies of razors and shaving cream are adequate, and then hand over a squalling infant on the spot.

Marvin, 3/11/09

Normally, a couple lying in bed making comments like these about their privacy would be hinting not so subtly that they’re too self-conscious about having the relations within earshot of old people. However, these are Marvin’s parents; we know for certain that, once they saw the product of their coupling, they vowed to never, ever even think about having sex again.

Marmaduke, 3/11/09

Oh, you’ll be plenty warm … IN MARMADUKE’S STOMACH! Because he likes to eat people, you see.

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Slylock Fox, 3/1/09 (portion) and 3/2/09

First off, an apology: while scanning Sunday’s strips for entertainment value, I somehow managed to completely miss an appearance by my hero, Reeky Rat, in which he is actually innocent of the crime of which he is accused! He’s still guilty of wearing a hideous yellow sweater that in no way lives up to his awesome fashion potential, and of befouling the snow-covered dirt patch in front of his trailer, but if the plot on which a man has parked his trailer (the rent on which is less than sixty days overdue) is not his castle, where he can dress and litter as he pleases, then what rights remain to us in this country? Reeky’s small-type, upside-down exoneration may be a first for the Slylock Fox rogues gallery, and presumably this is all the excuse Slylock needs to stop going to down to the trailer park altogether and just let its denizens dish out brutal justice to one another with their crude homemade weaponry.

That should clear up lots of time in his schedule for episodes like today’s, in which our detective heads over to the gym to creepily stare at the patrons and employees in their little short shorts. What, do you work for the FDA now, Fox? I’m sure Buford can produce some kind of corporate-sponsored study proving that regular bowel movements are an important part of any muscle-building regimen.

Archie, 3/2/09

The main joke in today’s Archie indicates nothing more than that the AJGLU 3000’s anti-lawsuit module has been given far too much priority over its other humor functions (THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT LUCKY CHARMS® BRAND CEREAL FROM GENERAL MILLS I ALONE DARE SAY THIS), but I am amused by Archie’s father’s mug, which reads “#2 DAD.” It’s possible that our charming joke-generating machine, in its cold mechanical logic, doesn’t see why 2 would be much inferior to 1 on a scale of 0 to infinity and means this as a compliment, but I prefer to believe that it has finally learned the importance of poop jokes.

A more sobering revelation comes on the milk carton in the second panel, which tells us that Jughead has been kidnapped, possibly after having been lured into a creepy van by a trail of hamburgers.

Family Circus, 3/2/09

“I mean it, our children are lazy little turds, lying there on the floor sullenly mashing mass-manufactured pieces of plastic crap together for hours on end. Just the very sight of them sickens me. I sincerely hope you bought the toys that are known choking hazards, like I asked you to.”

Dick Tracy, 3/2/09

“The oil companies will make him a rich man … for keeping his mouth shut, after they bury that formula in a very, very deep hole.”

Marmaduke, 3/2/09

“I don’t mind too much, though, because this way I can’t really feel the pooling urine.”