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Momma, 9/13/07

OK, Momma, you’ve finally succeeded in convincing me of one of your central theses: that I would not, in fact, want to have Francis as a son. This is not because of the litany of abuse heaped upon him in roughly half of the feature’s strips; rather, it’s because the boy has no filter whatsoever on his sexual ruminations. You might remember that Francis likes to look at Internet porn with his mother in the same room. Today, in panel three, the smart thing to say would have clearly been, “Ah, I’ve also heard nice things about this young woman! Yes, I’d love for you to arrange a date for us.” Then there could be at least a few hot and heavy interludes without Momma’s constant, suffocating interference. Instead, he leapt up into the air and shouted “Woo-hoo! If Freda’s reputation is correct, I’ll soon be having consequence- and commitment-free sex with her, possibly in a kinky fashion!” (or, in bowdlerized Momma-speak, “Yes!! I will! I hear she’s a real swinger!”). Warning to overbearing mothers everywhere: this is what happens when you don’t allow proper boundaries to be established between you and your children. They just say this stuff right in front of you.

Judge Parker, 9/13/07

“Knock it off … I’m not in the mood!” Don’t feel bad, Trudi: this isn’t the first time Sam’s said those very words when faced with boobs like those.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 9/13/07

Here’s my suggestion for a sponge-bath-based TDIET:

Alf Ragweed’s images of nursing care have been heavily influenced by pornographic movies…

(In his thought balloon: “Hello Mr. Ragweed … I need to clean you up … I hear you’re so dirty … are there any particular parts you want me to focus on? Mmmmm … oh yeah …”)

But when he actually needs a sponge bath in a real hospital, how does it go? Need I tell you, dear reader?

(“All right, turn over, and — AWK-K-K-K! What the hell is this? Honestly, I’m not paid enough to deal with you … do you think wiping your crusty ass is a turn-on for me? … and it’s so small … wait till I tell the other nurses on the floor … etc., etc.”)

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/13/07

“Yes, I expect that’s a reunion Hugh isn’t looking forward to! Also, from panel two on, I’ll be played by Oscar-winner Billy Bob Thornton!”

Mark Trail, 9/13/07

Holy crap, is Homer going to start sitting on the duck eggs himself? O great Lord of Comics, we are not worthy of such joys.

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For Better or for Worse, 9/9/07

Awww — cute! And a refreshing change from what Wobbin usually carries in those pants!

Is it wrong to hope for poison ivy?

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/9/07

Awww — sweet! Milton Avery has been in a life raft in the North Atlantic since friggin’ March (I kid you not — you could look it up!). And it looks like he scwatched his widdle captain-of-industry nose — no doubt while gorging himself on the flesh of his fellow survivors. Meanwhile, the crisis is averted and Heather’s litmus dress is back to alkali.

Apartment 3G, 09/09/07

Aww – crap. Today’s Apartment 3G just summarizes preparations for the coming train wreck foreshadowed in panel #5 – Eric (Tim? Anthony? Who the hell cares?) is in love — but not with Margo (gasp-p-p-p!!!)!!! Wine and steaks will please Margo . . . but only blood will sate her! Cue Tim, Nora, China, blah, blah, blah . . . hey, I wonder what’s going on in Judge Parker? Oh yeah. . . . nothing.

Hey, everybody — Josh is back! Look for Comments of the Week Sunday evening, and a return to our regularly scheduled programming on Monday.

Thank you all for a delightful week, especially Galactic Emperor Chennux for giving me a break on Thursday sparing my sorry hide. Thanks to everybody who contributed to the Garage Sale — and see you in the comments!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/8/07

“I can bring home the bacon;
“Fry it up in a pan —
“And never, never, never let you forget
“You’re a total idiot.”

The Phantom, 9/8/07

This plot could go either way: “Ghost-Who-Cleans-up-Neighborhoods” or “Ghost-Who-Defends-Intellectual-Property.” But if I were little Tendai, I’d lay off the illegal downloads for a while. Just sayin’.

Mark Trail, 9/8/07

Here we have almost the entire Mark Trail gradient of good and evil: bald good-hearted Homer Moore, balding conflicted Mr. Thomas, shady sideburned Tom. NEXT: Tom hires ZZ Top and a gang of Hasidic rebbes to beat sense into Homer.

Funky Winkerbean, 9/8/07

Signs of the End Times: Nobody in this picture is maimed or dying. Everybody’s smiling.

Thanks to everybody who hit the Tip Jar or sent Josh a check this week, and for everybody’s patience with a week-long fundraiser. Judging by my mail and the comments, it looks like it was a big success; I know Josh will be thanking contributors individually once he’s back Sunday evening.

— Uncle Lumpy