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Mary Worth, 1/12/18

Aww, isn’t this nice? Father and daughter are really relating to each other as adults and supporting each other emotionally! Say, also, unless I missed something, Dawn has neglected to mention to her dad that she made out with a married dude at her summer job, just like Wilbur never brought up the fact that he was grifted by a statuesque beauty in Colombia right before he came home. Just a happy father-daughter pair keeping deep secrets from one another and chowing down on some muffins, in other words!

Hagar the Horrible, 1/12/18

I have several questions about what’s going on here. The first is about the tattoo on this bar lady’s hand. That definitely looks like a prison tattoo font. Did she get that tattoo in prison? Was she in the least bad-ass prison ever, where that would be considered a cool prison tattoo? Did the fact that the tattoo is on the palm of her hand, a very sensitive part of the body and therefore an extremely painful one to get a tattoo on, make it seem slightly more bad-ass?

Perhaps more relevant: how exactly did Lucky Eddy come by his extremely non-specific knowledge of this lady’s tattooed status? Hagar’s smirk implies that he was the one who set up this little farce, but I’m not sure that really works with his canonical illiteracy.

Mark Trail, 1/12/18

One giraffe in Lost Forest is a bizarre, inexplicable freak of nature. But two? Two means that the forest land should be opened to responsible hunting by outdoorspersons who want to harvest delicious giraffe meat and keep local populations in check and avoid the tragedies of “nuisance giraffes.” This will be a profitable year for Doc’s side business selling individual pancakes off his cabin’s front porch!

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Mary Worth, 1/9/18

I’m really excited to watch Wilbur’s emotional journey to healing over the coming … weeks? Months? Today, for instance, we can tell he’s moving forward a bit because rather than just shoving that muffin down his gullet to fill the hole inside him where love used to be, he’s taking a moment to enjoy its bouquet, as he would with a fine wine. Meanwhile, Dawn, wide-eyed and still rolling on Molly after another night of clubbing, is about to blow through the kitchen and disrupt Wilbur’s philosophical mindset with some manic, MDMA-addled chatter.

Funky Winkerbean, 1/9/18

“Yes, ancillary character who I’m pretty sure was just introduced into this narrative specifically for the super-depressing ‘Bull vanishes into dementia‘ arc! Only you can still bring joy to this household. He certainly never smiles around me, his own wife! Ha ha, my life isn’t a hell, at all!”

Six Chix, 1/9/18

Here is a comic where dogs discuss the fact that they can’t fuck. Enjoy!

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Mark Trail, 1/4/18

Wow, everybody, Mark isn’t just taking Rusty on a trip for once; he’s taking him and Cherry on a trip to Mexico! They haven’t mentioned fishing yet but snorkeling counts, right? I think it’s cute that they’re trying to spin a trip to Mexico as exposing Rusty to a “totally different culture,” as if he’s had any meaningful contact with American culture beyond the AM radio broadcasts that are occasionally permitted within the log walls of the compound.

The casual mention of Mark’s “old archaeologist friend” is obviously setting up the main plot, so I think the questions we need to ask ourselves are: which cursèd artifact will Rusty be touching, how soon will he be touching it, and to which ancient Olmec god of blood will it be necessary to sacrifice him to prevent the destruction of the world?

Mary Worth, 1/4/18

As Wilbur spirals down into full-on anhedonia, I was trying to remember the last time I saw him experience happiness that isn’t retroactively tainted by Fabiana’s perfidy. I’m thinking it might be when he deliriously proclaimed to his editor that “I shouldn’t be alive … but I am”? What I’m trying to say is, if Wilbur wants to feel joy again, he might want to rent himself out to a rich sadist with a private island for a “Most Dangerous Game” situation.

Funky Winkerbean, 1/4/18

Hey, were you wondering how Funky’s AA meeting is going? Welp, he’s basically given a long, rambling diatribe about how everything’s going to shit that’s both extremely intense and weirdly lacking in proper nouns while everyone else stares at him in horrified silence. It’s going great, in other words.

Pluggers, 1/4/18

ONLY PLUGGERS CAN RECONSTRUCT INCIDENTS FROM THEIR MEMORY INTO A COHERENT NARRATIVE AND UNDERSTAND THE PASSAGE OF TIME

WE URBAN ELITISTS LIVE IN A JUMBLED FOG OF PAST AND PRESENT INCIDENTS, UNABLE TO REMINISCE OR LEARN OR PERCEIVE CAUSE AND EFFECT