Post Content

Gearhead Gertie, 10/3/24

Now, I might be an Ivy League-educated coastal elitist, but the Ivy League school I attended was in fact located in the Finger Lakes, and I know that they’ll just let any schmo drive on at least one NASCAR track, so I assume this is probably true elsewhere? Not going to bother researching that, I’m just saying, this panel is predicated on the idea that Gertie is doing something crazy when in fact she’s doing something very normal for a NASCAR obsessive such as herself. I don’t usually take sides in comic strip marital spats but her husband needs to chill out!

Blondie, 10/3/24

Blondie is a strip I very much never think of as “visually interesting,” so I do have to give props to Dagwood’s thought balloon in the first panel, which wraps around the door to match his imagined sausage garland placement. On the other hand, his wink is pure nightmare fuel, and the idea of “pizza-shaped pillows” … that’s just round! That’s not epic at all! Look, Alexander, there’s a pizza-shaped pillow on the couch right next to you!

Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/3/24

You know, if Mud Mountain only pretended to be the first guy in history who ever had his personality genuinely improved after joining an obviously fake scam self-help cult, just so he could lull Truck into complacency and get an invitation to perform together again, at which point he plans to pull off his patented move — pretending to shit his pants on stage — well, I for one will have no choice but to respect it.

Post Content

Beetle Bailey, 9/30/24

Today, most food service in the U.S. military is outsourced to contractors, and one of the military’s most awesome powers is the ability to deploy a fully operational Burger King to a combat zone within 24 hours. But Beetle Bailey remembers an earlier time, when cooks would’ve been soldiers themselves — my grandfather enlisted during World War II and spent the war stateside making meals in bulk for soldiers about to ship out to the Pacific, for instance, and it only occurred to me reading this strip that I never knew what his rank was. Did he outrank a sergeant? Could he, within the bounds of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, have ordered a private to prevent his sergeant from gaining access to the company’s food stores, using deadly force, if necessary? Much to think about.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/30/24

Oh wow, Wanda, just casually demonstrating your ability to cross your fingers right in front of your trigger finger-striken boyfriend? Flexible finger privilege much????

Post Content

Beetle Bailey, 9/25/24

Once upon a time, your average newspaper reader looked forward to the middle of the week with eager anticipation. That’s because they knew that Wednesday was “Miss Buxley Wednesday,” an opportunity to turn to the comics page and briefly become horny from looking at a crude drawing of an attractive blonde woman in a skimpy black dress. But then we all got older, especially the old man who was the blonde woman’s boss, and while we’re still going through the Wednesday motions, nobody’s getting horny anymore, not really. Instead, the old man is getting exasperated by his subordinate, and the blonde woman, even more crudely drawn than before, is quietly typing away in the background, presumably grateful that nobody is getting horny at her.

Dick Tracy, 9/25/24

Speaking of letdowns, if you were a mysterious alien being with innate biological powers, a command of advanced technologies, and a vague plan to conquer humanity, how would you think your Wednesday would go? Probably you wouldn’t guess that you’d be spending it going through some file cabinets, right? But that’s just how it happens sometimes. Into everyone’s life, a little file cabinet searching must fall, even into the lives of aliens from the Moon.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/25/24

Hey guys! Did you know that trigger finger happens with a tendon sheath is inflamed and creates a temporary inability to straighten a finger or thumb? Pretty neat, huh? Not sure exactly what you’re supposed to do about it, but if we’re lucky, we might find out soon!

Shoe, 9/25/24

Oh, the Perfesser’s refill isn’t scheduled for another week but he needs more sleeping pills now? Interesting, interesting. Look, I’m not saying a “the Perfesser gets addicted to downers” would be a great new direction for this strip, but it’d probably be better than [spends 45 seconds trying to come up with a funny and pithy description of what exactly Shoe has been getting at for the past 20 years, then fails and gives up] whatever it’s doing now.