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Sally Forth, 7/26/14

It’s lonely being strange. Boyfriend Jon showed Hilary a way to escape the refuge and isolation of her family, leaving Sally to consider whether a life of surrealist Monopoly games, chocolate bunny ears, thwarted Paris vacations, and the Star Wars Holiday Special would be enough to sustain her, even if they did come with the love of a good — well, let’s go with “man.”

So she coaxed Ted to the neighborhood barbeque, even though parties are minefields for them — over the years, they have managed to offend the few neighbors whose names they know, share none of their interests or experiences, and always wind up in a corner numbly wisecracking to one another, trying not to drink too much and sneaking looks at the time.

Neighbor Tom Racine, a sensitive host and a decent man, sees, understands, and deftly relieves their discomfort, leaving Sally in stunned gratitude for the three seconds it takes Ted to fuck it all up.

Herb and Jamaal, 7/26/14

Herb congratulates himself for a jerk tactic that hasn’t worked in all of history.

Shoe, 7/26/14

The Perfessor’s butt is so big OSHA makes him wear a vehicle motion alarm.

Has anybody else seen A Thousand Clowns? What I mean is, I think Sally Forth is A Thousand Clowns, which means Sally herself is Barbara Harris and I need to rethink my life.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Sally Forth, 8/8/13

Aw — seems like just yesterday she was a cute little fifth-grader, and here she is ruining her first summer romance with a pointless, self-destructive neurotic meltdown. Little Hilary, all grown up!

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 8/8/13

Wait! Tell us more about this “Charlie” player, cutting a wide swath through the maidens of Hootin’ Holler with his smooth talk, fancy ring, and bait-and-switch mating strategy. Is he unaware of the role played by firearms in his community’s courtship rituals?

Or perhaps Hootin’ Holler’s ancestral wimminfolk cobbled together their own ritual from scraps of Sadie Hawkins Day and Musical Chairs, in which eligible wimmin pass the ring down from one to another as one by one they wed, until at last the final maiden is doomed to wear it as she weds the Final Feller — the Feller No One Wants.

Yes, that must be it, judging from the look of shock, horror, and despair on Ginny’s face — it’s exactly how Loweezy looked wearing the ring at her own weddin’ a generation ago.

Mary Worth, 8/8/13

Swimming! Hiking! Stretching! A life of petty intrusiveness requires constant discipline. Not for the weak!

Herb and Jamaal, 8/8/13

Jamaal lives every day as though it were his last, and reeks so bad everyone around him wishes it were theirs.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Women, amirite?

Phantom, 2/17/13

OK, so the Phantom adheres to the quaint old ‘50’s-TV-cowboy “shoot the guns from the bad guys’ hands” ethic, while Savarna just stone cold kills the bastards, no fuss. But the Ghost Who Negotiates ought to know that while employers may set terms and conditions (like uniforms, mmm…) for their workers, they can’t go around telling independent contractors like Savarna how to deliver their services. What I’m saying is if he hasn’t got a W-2 job on offer here, he’d better let Savarna continue her reign of bloody 1099-MISC slaughter, or there’ll be hell to pay with the IRS.

Lockhorns panel, 2/17/13

At last we know what keeps the Lockhorns together: as devout Catholics, death is the only permissible exit from their loveless hell of a marriage. But really, Father — a penance enhancement for Leroy? Isn’t Loretta enough? You’ve just heard the endless catalog of her horrifying sins against this poor man; have you no mercy? Don’t pretend you can’t hear me, Padre, I know you’re still in there!

Sally Forth, 2/17/13

Ted tries desperately to charm Sally out of her Seasonal Affective Disorder. I know you’re probably wondering, “Why should Ted and Sally have all the fun? Why can’t I enjoy the full-on Charles in Charge theme song karaoke binge experience?” Well, faithful reader, wonder no more:

Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/17/13

Apparently cancer stripper Dolores’ gender-sniffin’ powers work only on the preborn, otherwise how could she have missed out on Honey’s Big Secret? Or maybe Honey is always extra-careful to put the seat back down? Seriously, is there any other way to read this? “Rex, I want you to know I’m not like the other girls. Not like other girls at all, CHECK IT OUT DOC!”

Poor Rex instantly shrivels back to his tiny prepubescent boyhood, to relive his psychosexual development in light of this revelation, and maybe get it right this time.

Crankshaft, 2/17/13

This has nothing to do with women, or of course humor — I just thought you’d enjoy seeing Ed Crankshaft in pain. Was I wrong? I don’t think so!

Hey, Josh is once again abandoning you for his annual winter sojurn at scenic Undisclosed Location. No fundraiser this time around, but I’ll be here through next Sunday. If you have any site issues, drop me a line at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net and I’ll do what I can to help.

“ ♫ I want Charles in charge of meeeee … ♫”

— Uncle Lumpy