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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 12/2/14

Parson Tuttle is a well-known fraud: he’s largely ignorant of spiritual and theological matters and presumably came to Hootin’ Holler, a community abandoned by actual clergy, to bilk its inhabitants out of their meager savings. But today we learn that this long-term grift has managed to trouble even this con-man’s conscience. What right does he, as a fraud and bearer of false witness, have to tell his parishioner-marks that their minor transgressions mark them out for eternal damnation? As an unbeliever himself, how dare he fill these poor souls’ minds with awful visions of Hell? Can the slim, ill-gotten rewards of this life he’s chosen really be worth it?

Pluggers, 12/2/14

Boy, today’s Pluggers caption is really pretty long, huh? Usually they’re short and sweet, but I’d be down with seeing the walls of text expanding to show us what’s really going on beneath the down-home folksy surface of a typical Pluggers panel. “You’re a plugger if you get your ladder out of the garage in the morning to clean out your gutters and it’s still leaning against the house at dusk, because what’s the point, really? It’s just a task you’re going to have to do year after year, again and again. Maybe your gutters will clog up if you don’t do it, boo fuckin’ hoo, it’s not like the roof doesn’t already have three leaks in it, it’s not like the storm windows really shut properly. The whole rotten place is drafty all winter. It’s not like you know how to fix any of that stuff, or can afford to pay someone who does know. You remember the last time you cleaned out the gutters, when your friend Hank was there to help. Hank’s job transferred him to another city eight months ago. You haven’t talked to him much. Men don’t spend all day gabbing on the phone, the way your wife does with who knows what. Sure would make it more fun if Hank were here, though.”

Herb and Jamaal, 12/2/14

Haha, it’s funny because women in service jobs often need to perform “emotional labor” to maintain their tip income, leading to blurred emotional boundaries with customers!

Dennis the Menace, 12/2/14

“OH MY GOD,” thinks Alice, “MY SECRET REVEALED: I POOP OUT MY BUTTHOLE LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN DOES”

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Mary Worth, 11/27/14

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYBODY! Mary is spending the holiday with her dearest friends: Wilbur, Iris, Dawn, Ian, Toby, and … some dude? Some dude who is definitely not Dr. Jeff. Seems that Hanna Dingdon isn’t the only person finding new love these days!

Also missing from the table is Iris’s supposedly reformed son Tommy. My best guess is that he and Jeff are holed up over in Iris’s apartment, getting high.

Pluggers, 11/27/14

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYBODY! Pluggers would like to remind you that if you serve a frozen pie to your family today you’re human garbage.

Crankshaft, 11/27/14

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYBODY! Crankshaft reminds you that Thanksgiving is a fun time to watch your elderly relatives, who know that they’re going to die soon, bargain with God. Enjoy!

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Family Circus, 11/6/14

The idea that one is constantly being closely observed and assessed by others is known within psychology circles as the “imaginary audience”. It’s common in children, but if it lingers into adolescence it’s generally considered a variety of diagnosable narcissism. Frankly, I think it’s about time for Billy to grow out of it; instead, his own inborn egotism, fed by a steady diet of for-profit media, has led him to the delusion that not only is his dull life fascinating to the faceless millions watching his every move, but that his antics are somehow amusing enough for someone to actually buy ad time against them.

Mother Goose and Grimm, 11/6/14

I mean, sure, if you’re going to predicate your strip on the idea that dogs are sapient to the extent that they talk and hire psychotherapists, why stop there? Why only dogs? Why not the fleas that live on the talking dog’s skin and feast on its blood — why can’t these parasitic creatures also think and reason and talk, their incessant chatter banging around the edges of Grimm’s consciousness? And why stop at the fleas? What about the microbes that live on the fleas? Why shouldn’t all the individual cells making up the fleas and the dogs and the therapists have their own thoughts and feelings and opinions? Why shouldn’t be the world be a baffling, terrifying blur of murmuring consciousness, a quicksand of souls pulling us into whirling chaos?

Momma, 11/6/14

Ugh, that got a little heavy, didn’t it? Here’s today’s Momma as a palate-cleanser. Ha ha, it’s funny because Momma and her sons are literally the last people in America who don’t have a calling plan with unlimited voice minutes!

Pluggers, 11/6/14

Desperate to maintain readership, Pluggers will now only offer comic panels that can be easily misconstrued as something so horrifying that you have to read the caption to reassure yourself that the world is still a sane place.

Apartment 3-G, 11/6/14

This is gasp-worthy news! On the one hand, Margo loves her mother and wants to do right by her; on the other hand, Margo is not very good at planning weddings, just like she’s not very good at all the other glamorous-sounding consulting businesses she’s set up and abandoned over the years. Fortunately, if this week’s strips are any indication, Margo can just arrange to have the wedding inside some dowdy apartment and tell her parents it’s New York’s most fashionable restaurant.