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Family Circus, 3/14/11

Ill-content with his future as a sullen dick, Billy aspires to be a sullen ignorant dick. Live the dream, Billy!

Baby Blues, 3/14/11

Uh-oh — looks like Hammie’s been bitten by a radioactive spider. Lot of that going around. Can’t wait for the musical!

Marvin, 3/14/11

Marvin, perfected. You folks can stop now.

Judge Parker, 3/14/11

Marketing executive — of course. Alan’s Blackberry® also brings news that his two-week Wonder Novel has received a Pulitzer Prize, and Sam’s been appointed Attorney General and Papal Nuncio. Judge Parker pumps its characters so full of gas it’s like watching Ally McBeal staged by Macy’s parade balloons.

Dick Tracy, 3/14/11

Whoa — what the hell is that thing growing out of Dick’s left wrist? And are we headed for four months of “It’s morning out there”/”I’m gonna call you, Tracy”? Time will tell.

Hey, I’m outta here! Josh will return on Monday with your COTW, and chew back into the comics on Tuesday. It’s been a fun week — thanks!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Crock, 1/25/11

Today we have an excellent demonstration of the inner workings of the underimagined hell-world that is Crock. Our action involves Figowitz, who is always slouched despondently against the exterior wall of the Foreign Legion’s fort, and Captain Preppie, who for dramatic reasons should be shown sitting jauntily with his legs crossed. Except: there is no furniture upon which the good captain can place his shapely buttocks in Figowitz’s blasted desert sitting-spot! What to do? Summon a vaguely cuboid sitting-box out of nowhere, of course. Once Preppie gets up to stroll away, this mysterious plinth can simply vanish into the ether of narrative convenience out of which it emerged.

On a surely totally unrelated note, the chunk missing from Preppie’s right elbow in panel one is no doubt of aesthetic significance too sublime to be understood by a ruffian such as myself; we certainly shouldn’t assume that this particular drawing of the handsome captain has been carelessly cut and pasted from an earlier strip.

Apartment 3-G, 1/25/11

Normally when your new boyfriend drives you to a creepy abandoned house somewhere in New Jersey, that’s a sign of very bad news to come. But Paul drives a huge, pearly white Hummer! He must be a classy guy!

Marvin, 1/25/11

The WikiLeaks saga, combining as it does political intrigue, cloak-and-dagger spy drama, philosophical debates about the merits of openness vs. secrecy in different realms, and accusations of sexual assault, has enough inherent drama to serve as a the foundation for a whole series of fascinating novels. Or, if you’re Marvin, you could use it as the basis for a pun about pissing yourself!

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I normally don’t do this, but let’s backtrack a day to yesterday’s Gasoline Alley:

Gasoline Alley, 1/9/11

This is an actually rather poignant fantasy sequence in which Slim begs God to help him control his appetite. In awful display of self-loathing, Slim attempts to condition himself away from overeating by visualizing delicious foodstuffs as being created by horrifying demons, in hell. And how does God respond to Slim’s prayers?

Gasoline Alley, 1/10/11

Apparently by inspiring him with insatiable hunger, by means of the Bible! Though it could be that this Bible has become so mangled and rearranged that it has accidentally summoned up some of the food demons from yesterday’s strip. Another possible explanation is that Slim is just hungry.

Hi and Lois, 1/10/11

Meanwhile, Dot and Ditto seem eager to give thanks to God, despite the fact that He has cursed them with deformed lobster-claw hands.

Marvin, 1/10/111

You know, when most babies show a signs that they might become ill, the adults who care for them show concern, monitoring their health and perhaps even seeking medical attention. But that doesn’t apply to Marvin, the worst baby in the world! Instead, his family has abandoned him on the couch, hopefully to die.