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Dennis the Menace, 12/11/18

Dennis knows that it would be extremely menacing if someone were to tip off the Mossad about the location of Georg Wilhelm, one of the last SS commanders still at large.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/11/18

“I actually get a commission for referring your son to the hospital, which is why I’m here: to make sure you pay for the surgery. Remember all that paperwork you signed? Bet you wish you’d read it now, huh?”

Sam and Silo, 12/11/18

Bit by bit, I’m figuring Sam and Silo out. Now I know which one is Sam and which is Silo! Sam is the one with severe clinical depression.

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So ends the 2018 Fall Comics Curmudgeon Fundraiser. So exciting! Thank you, generous readers!

Sherman’s Lagoon, 12/1/18

In Slylock Fox, the judge is invariably an owl. That won’t work under water of course, but why an octopus? It’s the long arm of the law, not the many arms. Some Hawaiian people believe the octopus is the sole survivor of a previous creation, but that still seems like Slylock Fox territory. All hands on deck? Many hands make light work?

It would be funnier with eight gavels.

Crankshaft, 12/1/18

In the final days of Apartment 3-G, the characters swapped identities and chanted incoherently as they swirled about the frame. At last, we have a successor.

Funky Winkerbean, 12/1/18

So all week long it’s been “Funky is a jerk at the gym,” alternating between his passive-aggressive whining and jumping on some lady’s treadmill to “draft” her haha. Now he’s inevitably stumbled off the machine, but instead of being greviously injured out of simple justice, he’s been thrown onto the leg press machine for his last exercise of the day.

Why finish up with the leg press? Because it’ll give him a big number so he’ll come back tomorrow. Despite his pathetic cardiovascular conditioning and will-o’-the-wisp upper-body strength, Funky has quads of iron from keeping all that mass upright all day. With his leg muscles isolated and the 45° rails carrying half the weight, he can probably press a quarter ton. See you again tomorrow, Samson.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/1/18

After two weeks of nonstop kidney disease, we pause in the final panel to confront the tragedy of color blindness. I hope the grub in Jordan’s Generic House of Food is better than the décor.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Marvin, 11/3/18

Maybe it’s just me, but when you see the phrase “mentoring Marvin” in isolation, parsing “mentoring” as a verbal noun with “Marvin” as its object — i.e., “the process of being a mentor to Marvin” — seems like a much more natural reading than parsing it as a verbal adjective modifying “Marvin” — i.e., “Marvin, the baby that goes around being a mentor.” But apparently I’m wrong! Apparently that’s not what’s happening here. Apparently people think that a heavy lidded cynic cruelly disabusing you of treasured beliefs that tie you to your loved ones counts as “mentoring” now. Apparently you can “have all the answers” even if you consistently and stubbornly refuse to learn how to poop in a toilet.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/3/18

A thing that I forgot to mention about the current Jordan and Michelle storyline in Rex Morgan, amongst all the stolen valor, is that a drunk guy tried to mug them but just ended up lunging at them and missing, and then it turned out that said drunk guy was an PTSD-afflicted vet who also went to high school with Jordan, and because Jordan had this pre-existing personal relationship with him he asked the judge to be lenient, which, isn’t it interesting how our supposedly objective system of justice is really informed in practice by the innumerable social ties that hold individuals together, but that’s neither here nor there because the important thing is that this dude is hallucinating! And Jordan has promised, without consulting Rex, that he can get this hallucinating dude in to see Rex, today! I am vibrating with glee imagining the scowl that Rex is going to grace us with on this one.