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Dustin, 11/20/22

Look, I’d be lying if I claimed that I haven’t myself stared at the various cutesy branded pants size designation at the Gap with a certain degree of animus, but here’s the difference between me and Dustin’s dad: I would not, when griping about this to my wife, push my glasses up on my forehead and pinch the bridge of my nose in a fit of comically exaggerated performative exasperation, so everyone would know just how much I hate it. I also wouldn’t harken back to some mythical golden age when we all just covered ourselves with voluminous wraps and it didn’t really matter what size or shape they, or we, were.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/20/22

Say what you will about Mud Mountain Murphy’s digestive problems and the degree to which he himself is responsible for them, but you have to admit that they provided Rex an opportunity to avoid some classic Buck-curated roots country bullshit. Everything happens for a reason, as Mary Worth would say!

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Funky Winkerbean, 11/19/22

Hey folks, remember beloved but unheralded elder comic book artist Ruby Lith, introduced back in 2019? Remember when she finally got the recognition she deserved and was inducted into the Comics Hall of Fame back in 2021? No? You don’t? None of this is ringing a bell? You say Funky Winkerbean is full of people that you have some kind of emotional relationship with only because they’ve been in the strip for years and you’ve grown to really dislike them, and none of the “new” characters really stuck with you? Well, too bad. Tom Batuik‘s retiring, which means each and every character is this strip is retiring, and we’re going to commemorate all of them, one by one.

Crankshaft, 11/19/22

“It’s certainly not a day for family to gather and contemplate what they’re thankful for. We aren’t having anyone over and nobody’s invited us to their place. We’re annoying and nobody wants to be around us!”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/19/22

Oh, good news, everyone! Mud Mountain isn’t dying after all. He just had to poop! It took him over an hour.

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Dick Tracy, 11/17/22

Look, I know, we’re never getting back to the glory days of “guy in gimp suit gets eaten alive by rats,” but you have to admit that we’re coming pretty close with a Dick Tracy villain named “Steelface,” whose whole thing is that he has a steel plate in his face that’s magnetic, and you’d think that he’d be know about situations where such an arrangment would be dangerous, like, say, getting into an MRI machine, and also you’d think the medical techs would ask questions like, “Say, you don’t have a steel plate under that bandage, do you?”, but it turns out nope on both counts and now he’s going to get his skull ripped apart by the MRI machine’s powerful magnets. He only ended up at this hospital because he hit his head fleeing from a police raid on his stolen car operation, so we can basically credit this grisly death to the cops, or at least that’s what they’ll be telling themselves while they stand around watching the poor hospital night shift guy scraping what’s left of Steelface’s face off the inside of the MRI machine with a putty knife.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/17/22

If you were really at a concert like this and a performer made this kind of announcement, everyone in the audience would chuckle knowingly and understand that “ice cream” and “tummyache” were code for “drugs and/or alcohol” and “unconscious.” Sadly, this is Rex Morgan, M.D., where literally everything is exactly as it seems on the surface, all the time.

Hi and Lois, 11/17/22

Sure, Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Industries LLC has somehow managed to survive and even thrive in a declining newspaper industry as their readership ages, but I’m hoping that this comic means they’re about to go all-in on crypto at the worst possible time.

Crankshaft, 11/17/22

Look, not every Crankshaft has to be a big “event,” you know? Sometimes it can be something quiet and delightful, like Crankshaft falling face-first up a flight of stairs.