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Spider-Man, 10/18/12

So Kraven the Hunter has been out of prison long enough to get his own Vegas show, but the Daily Bugle is only now getting wind of it? Maybe they aren’t the hard-charging journalistic enterprise I’d always imagined. I guess it’s telling that Robbie is reading this information from a dispatch still hot from the fax machine.

What do you suppose is going on with everyone’s relative head sizes in the second panel, by the way? Is this just a cinematic way to show that Peter is dwelling on this conversation hours later, hearing JJJ say “they pardoned him?” in his head, over and over, as he smacks his forehead in exasperation at America’s failing justice system? (No, actually, the correct answer is “clip art.”)

Dick Tracy, 10/18/12

Famous model Sparkle Plenty is the daughter of B.O. Plenty and Gravel Gertie, which means that she’s the full sister of whatever horrifying baby-creature sent these medicos fleeing in terror. Got all the good genes, I guess! Anyway, this diseased ne’er-do-well she just met appears to be attempting to sell her drugs. Is this how famous people obtain drugs? I don’t think this is how famous people obtain drugs.

Momma, 10/18/12

So, is Momma a terrible hypochondriac, or is she a desperate pill-head who will say anything to get a fix? Which possibility is funnier? Which is sadder? Is your answer to both questions the same? Discuss.

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Shoe, 10/4/12

OK, fine, you’ve come up with a joke where someone is handed a plate of smoldering food and retorts “Who taught you to cook, [someone with ‘smoke’ in their name or nickname, because this meal is spewing smoke]?” I mean, not fine, actually, because that joke isn’t funny in any meaningful sense, but it’s not actively offensive or anything — until you decide that the smoke-named character that you’ll drop in for the punchline will be one specifically created to urge people not to cause fires. Smokey the Bear would never have allowed this tragedy to happen! He would have counseled Roz to pay careful attention to her oven to make sure her food didn’t burst into flames! Here, here are some other Smokeys that wouldn’t have undermined the joke: Smokey Robinson, Smokey Stover, Smokey and the Bandit. Smokey the Bear, come on, are you kidding me.

Momma, 10/4/12

Say what you will about Francis, but he’s always an optimist! Notice how he’s reaching out for his $40 with both arms extended. This would be unnecessary if his mother were just going to give him a couple of twenties, but maybe he’s imagining that she’ll be handing over an oversized novelty check, or a burlap sack full of nickels with a big dollar sign on the side. You know, just for fun!

Apartment 3-G, 10/4/12

“I hadn’t made plans to go with anyone, but bought two tickets because I don’t like to leave my jacket at the coat check — they expect tips, the greedy little bastards. But if I leave my coat on top of you during the show, it’ll be warm when I put it back on again! It’s settled, Evan, you’re coming with me. You’ll refrain from speaking to me directly, of course.”

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 10/4/12

Cindy’s new boyfriend’s sexual prowess is not of the advertised quality.

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Zits, 9/14/12

My wife and I got married seven years ago this week, and we were together for three years before that, so yes, there is a certain amount of gas-passing that goes on in each other’s presence at this point in our relationship, and by “a certain amount” I mean “good lord it is a constant chemical warfare battle of the sort banned by the Geneva Conventions.” And yet I still have a certain amount of sympathy for what’s going on at the bottom left of the third panel. Walt’s just shoveling spoon after spoon of fart-fuel into his gaping maw, blithely assuring his son that someday he and his true love will be so confident in each other’s affections that they’ll go through life hand-in-hand, surrounded by an invisible self-generated cloud of noxious gas, their farts mingling and becoming one; but Connie’s face is a frozen mask, as she tries to hide the fact that her soul dies a little every time Walt toots audibly at the dinner table. I mean, there’s a bathroom right up the hall, you know? It even has a fan.

Mary Worth, 9/14/12

Well, it looks like Dawn is going to be living a more meaningful life, since she’s sure to imbue the fact that her new boyfriend (DO NOT DOUBT THAT HE WILL BE HER NEW BOYFRIEND) has but one arm with much more meaning than the situation deserves. (As about a million people pointed out in the comments, Jim’s disability was completely obvious in yesterday’s strip and yet I managed to not notice it at all, whoops.) Will Jim turn out to be a war hero, or even a semi-hero like Gil’s ex-student? Or is he just some guy who shouldn’t have reached so far into the garbage disposal? Whatever the case, we all know who the real hero is here: Wilbur, for inventing the Meat-Tart that Jim is enjoying with one-handed ease.

Dennis the Menace, 9/14/12

It appears that a shifty-eyed Dennis the Menace has decided on a new tactic in his war against society’s strictures: hard-line Calvinist theology. Isn’t the omnipotent God, who created the universe and predetermined our very ends before time began, the real menace here?

Momma, 9/14/12

“Francis, you have 17 of your friends on ‘speed dial,’ despite the fact that your phone appears to be a rotary-dial bakelite model of the sort not produced in more than 25 years. Why? And, more importantly, How?”