The Phantom 1/26/07
Trouble in Bangalla – Old Man Mozz has been captured by Smurfs!
Funky Winkerbean 1/26/07
Sorry, Cancer Gal, but here in Funky Winkerbean we roll with no hope of any kind.
Curtis 1/26/07
Hey, Greg – you’re lucky you’re not in Funky Winkerbean.
Sally Forth 1/26/07
Oh, Lord – not again.
9 Chickweed Lane 1/26/07
Yes, you can draw. No, you can’t write.
Sally Forth, 12/11/06
You know, if the world around me had suddenly disappeared in a puff of smoke and I found myself on a higher plane, face to face with a benevolent, all-powerful deity who offered me a chance to come up with a definitive catalog of horrifying, traumatic things that, thanks to His all-loving power and favor, I would never, ever have to look at, it would never even have occurred to me before today to add “bald Sally Forth” to the list; and if such a blessed event ever happens to me in the future, there’s really no point, since I can never unsee it.
I like to imagine that Sally’s hair just came off in one immobile unit, with her classic freakish hairstyle undisturbed despite its separation from her head, and that somewhere a cancer survivor who tried to save a few bucks is kind of peeved with that decision.
They’ll Do It Every Time, 12/11/06
TDIET, tired of wasting its petty rage on intergenerational squabbles and marital discord, has decided to wade into the public health arena. I’d just like to point out that any establishment that sells cigarettes in bulk mere feet away from its inhaler stand isn’t just laying the groundwork for classic funny-pages irony; it’s also destined to make money hand over fist, as consumption of the former inevitably necessitates the purchase of wares from the latter for the customer and all those who share airspace with him. That’s what we call synergy, folks.
Judge Parker, 12/11/06
You know, usually Monday soap strips are boring, since they need to just rehash what happened Sunday, but I think we deserve a double shot of Celeste’s magnificient wrath. I do appreciate the appearance of Officer Flattop McMustache in the second panel; his slack-jawed, panicked face tells us that nothing in his police academy training, or his years as a U.S. Marine before that, could have prepared him for this. Hopefully tomorrow’s strip will feature less petition filing and more tasering.
Sally Forth and Peanuts, 9/2/06
It’s never particularly fair to compare any comic to Peanuts, but I was struck by the convergence of Ted’s team snatching defeat from the jaws of victory with one of the earlier Charlie-Brown’s-baseball-team-are-losers storylines. This strip again goes to show how routinely Peanuts was probably the bleakest thing not just on the comics pages, but in the entire newspaper. Ted at least is directing his rage outward in an emotionally healthy manner. Presumably the tears and self-recrimination will happen later.
Gil Thorp, 9/2/06
More interesting than the dating etiquette of Milford High students is … well, anything, really, but I’m thinking here of Marty Moon’s sad little face in panel two. “Hey guys, I thought maybe the three of us could hang out … guys? Oh, um, that’s OK, I’ll just go back to my car … I have some booze … I’ll be fine…”
If you’re wondering how Von and Mandy managed to save Marty’s bacon … Ben Franklin figured out pretty quickly that the two of them were pulling some elementary scam, was impressed by their moxie, and cut Moon’s $5,000 debt down to $500. No, I don’t understand it either.
They’ll Do It Every Time, 9/3/06
Note that Lugbutt and his bartender are totally capable of speaking in complete sentences, but that he and his doctor communicate entirely in a disconnected series of proper nouns. For me, the ironic reversal would have been much better if he and the sawbones had spent the whole visit talking about booze. “Beer … malt liquor … scotch … vomiting … rum … cirrhosis of the liver … vodka … etc …”