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Shoe, 8/11/12

The empty benches behind Roz actually speak rather well of the bird-people of Shoe-world. Rather than coming into open court to gawk at the spectacle of a poor delusional woman attempting to seek legal relief from her own biology, they have stayed away to give her some small amount of privacy and, to the extent possible, dignity.

Apartment 3-G, 8/11/12

Wow, this guy has answer to everything, doesn’t he? “Oh, is my main reference’s number not on my resume? Just take a look at … this business card! Oh, you don’t think someone from L.A. would have heard of your tiny middlebrow art gallery? Maybe that’s because I’m … not from L.A. at all, but from New York City — the very place where your art gallery is located!” Jesus, dude, just tell her you Googled her after you saw the job ad on Craigslist.

Beetle Bailey, 8/11/12

Sarge is not what you’d call an intellectual, so it makes sense that he looks so distressed at suddenly finding himself the subject of and a participant in an experimental work of recursive meta-fiction.

Pluggers, 8/11/12

Pluggers would rather spend their declining years staring in absolute silence at a tired cultural relic of their bygone youth than interact with their families. Also, they can’t be bothered to learn how to program a DVR.

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B.C., 8/9/12

Why, I’m glad you asked, blond B.C. character whose name I’m not going to look up (I think it might be “Thor”)! The modern pentathlon was brainchild of the Pierre de Coubertin, who was the driving force behind the modern Olympic movement. It consists of five events:

• Épée fencing
• Pistol shooting
• 200 metre freestyle swimming
• Show jumping on horseback
• 3 km cross country running

Just as the Ancient Greek pentathlon, consisting of running, jumping, javelin, discus, and wrestling events, was meant to serve as a way to practice and display soldierly virtues, so too was the modern pentathlon meant to simulate the sort of things a cavalry officer might have to do if trapped behind enemy lines: shoot a gun, fight with a sword, swim across a river, run for an extended distance, and ride an unfamiliar horse. In fact, for the first few Olympics in which it was an event, only cavalry officers were allowed to compete!

I find the whole thing an anachronistic delight, as of course it it became outdated more or less immediately after it was introduced in 1912, since World War I fairly definitively ended the cavalry age. This makes its “modern” designation all the funnier, though it still does make a useful distinction with the ancient version. Still, bandying around the word “modern” ought to make you take a long, hard look at yourselves, cavemen who are talking to each other from behind boulders.

Baldo, 8/9/12

I’m … pretty sure this is not the case? Unless “help her lift a box” means something filthy beyond my imagination.

Momma, 8/9/12

This implied proposal to exchange of sexual favors for dental work is exactly the right combination of sleazy and practical for Momma.

Shoe, 8/9/12

Have you ever wondered what one of the freakish, unnatural bird-people of Shoe would look like in a state of intense erotic arousal? It would be difficult to distinguish from a massive stroke, apparently!

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Herb and Jamaal, 8/1/12

Herb’s mother-in-law Eula, who both lives and works with him, is always on his case, constantly. One could write this off as just part of the eternal conflict between a mother-in-law and her child’s spouse, or, perhaps more accurately, as a tired, stereotypical retreading of the supposedly eternal conflict between a mother-in-law and her child’s spouse. Or, as today’s strip demonstrates, it could be that she’s terrified by Herb’s obvious emotional and sexual connection to his “best buddy Jamaal,” and will do anything to distract him from it, in the vain hope that she can keep her family together.

Lockhorns, 8/1/12

Call the Lockhorns hackneyed if you must, but it can still take us to depths of relationship hell that we never imagined existed. I mean, just think if you were at a place in your marriage when you thought, “God, I wish we had gotten that murder-suicide pact nailed down when the time was right. But what’s the point, now?”

Marvin, 8/1/12

It’s Marvin’s 30th anniversary, and from this day forward, I will no longer think of him as a horrible brat-child glorying in his inability or refusal to poop in a toilet. Instead, I will pity him as a victim of a capricious creator who for whatever perverse reason delights in forcing him to stew in his own excrement.

Shoe, 8/1/12

You may be alarmed to learn that Shoe is having sex with his golf clubs. Personally, I’m even more unsettled to discover that he’s getting emotionally attached to some of them.