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Dick Tracy, 10/15/19

It was all fun and games reading up on the hilarious backstory of Detective Frisk and Sal Monella, but the current storyline has turned out to be kind of enh, mostly involving Frisk tracking down Lily, her birth mother, who turns out to have sold Frisk as a baby as part of some kind of baby-selling ring she’s still connected to that Frisk is investigating, and now she’s pretending to emotionally bond with Frisk so that the ring can … catch up with Frisk, I think? Or something. Anyway, today is notable because said baby-selling bio-mom proves that she’s truly beyond the pale morally by openly lusting after Vitamin Flintheart, who’s a weird gross old man and also already spoken for. Control yourself, Lily! You should go see a production of Our Town to appreciate its metatheatrical commentary on ordinary lives, not to get horny!

Mary Worth, 10/15/19

Speaking of not getting horny, Wilbur and Estelle are strengthening their bond by belting out Sandy Denny’s 1973 folk-rock classic, “Who Knows Where the Time Goes?” Meanwhile, Iris has been feeling exhausted, possibly because her hot young stud boyfriend’s sexual endurance is outpacing hers. “Maybe you should cut back on your class schedule?” Zak suggests. “And focus your energy on the important stuff? Like sex with me?”

Marvin, 10/15/19

Meanwhile, over in Marvin, Marvin’s grandpa yearns to join his wife in the grave, and honestly: if the alternative is hanging around alive with the rest of his family, who can blame him?

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Funky Winkerbean, 10/3/19

Hello, Funky Winkerbean readers! Have you or a loved one been affected by CTE-related dementia, and have been hoping to gain some solace from a series of strips tackling the condition? Well, definitely don’t look up what “DRT” means if you’re wondering what a hardened, cynical police officer might say when approaching the scene of the tragedy that will forever define the remainder of your life! The rest of us can have fun trying to guess what surprising thing Bull was wearing (I’m sure it’s supposed to be a seatbelt, and the reason this is surprising will be explored soon, but I’m hoping it’s a t-shirt that says “I dedicated my life to entertaining others by playing and coaching a hard-hitting contact sport and all I got was this lousy degenerative brain condition.”)

Marvin, 10/3/19

Not sure even I would’ve predicted that a comic strip might be printed in newspapers where the punchline was “If you’d really like to ‘rough it,’ [something about a character’s anus],” but now than it’s here, it’s absolutely no surprise at all that it’s Marvin.

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Marvin, 9/11/19

Sometimes, faithful readers, I have to take a good, hard look at myself and acknowledge that I’ve spent a decade and a half — more than half of my adult life — regularly getting angry online about how the popular widely syndicated comic strip Marvin just makes jokes about shitting, day after day after day, right in public where everyone sees it. Sometimes I feel like I do it too often and should save my righteous fury for days like today, which features a strip that’s not only about Marvin shitting but actually demands that we get into the weeds of the mechanics of the whole thing. Like, isn’t the whole deal with Marvin that he doesn’t care about getting his diaper changed? Wouldn’t he be more likely just to shit himself and the keep eating, having just made more room in his stomach, to the disgust of his fellow competitors and everyone around him? Anyway, damn you, Marvin, for making me contemplate this today, and also several times a week, forever.

Pluggers, 9/11/19

Pluggers at least has the courtesy to leave the digestive distress this plugger’s about to experience largely in the realm of the imagination. Will he endure a mere gurgle or two from chowing down on the long-expired canned food alone in his kitchen, or suffer the full-on runs? The details aren’t as important as the overall gist, which is that pluggers are cheap, lazy, and so depressed that they honestly don’t care whether they live or die.