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Slylock Fox, 1/6/08

OH, COME ON, SLYLOCK! I can’t make out the solution to this mystery in its small typeface, but I especially can’t make out why the two of you aren’t making out right now. “Prank calls,” indeed. I’m assuming that the only way the usual slack-jawed bunny and bird townsfolk were able to figure out that these sexy, sexy phone calls were coming from Cassandra was through top-secret technology called “caller ID.” Therefore, by my powers of deduction, I come to the conclusion that she wanted to be caught — caught with a full bubble bath and a bunch of scented candles. And who do you bring over? Max. Frickin’ Max. Unbelievable. That’s it, I’m on Team Cassandra! Who’s with me? (Buy the shirt if so, obviously.)

Zits, 1/6/07

I’m not sure if I mentioned it in a blog post, but a few weeks back there was some mild degree of controversy because Zits delved into the darkest, most offensive world of sexually charged street lingo. Specifically, there was a strip that featured Jeremy uttering in the word “sucks” — not in the sense of anybody specifically sucking on anything in particular, but in the general sense of the situation he was in being suboptimal, in the way that teenagers have been doing since at least five years before I was born. Several newspapers actually pulled the strip. Anyway, it baffles me that said word caused a kerfuffle and yet Scott and Borgman walk the streets as free men after foisting this image onto our brains, is what I’m saying.

Apartment 3-G, 1/6/08

“…a little sad and a lot drunk. And a lot asshole, too.”

(P.S. Don’t forget that Comments of the Week now appear on Mondays! So you can go to bed now, is what I’m trying to say.)

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Dick Tracy, 12/22/07

I’ve managed to go several weeks without mentioning Dick Tracy, and that’s because it’s been stupid and incomprehensible and insane. The meandering, pointless storyline has involved a maniac holding the governor hostage in an old haunted mansion at the end of a tunnel behind a painting; meanwhile, a wrecking crew has shown up to demolish the house the same day that a high-profile charity haunted house sleepover event involving local politicians is ostensibly in progress inside, and they refuse to obey the orders of the police. Today’s comic is worthy of mention, though, because it features the bad guy (or maybe the governor — I’m not entirely clear on this point) falling to his death, a mighty SPLATT ringing out as his organs are pulped inside his body cavity; then his corpse is mangled by a bulldozer, which the operator of said machine barely notices. I would bet money that this strip runs in at least one newspaper that pulled Zits last month because it used the word “sucks.”

Family Circus, 12/22/07

This sort of blasphemous sass that should definitely not bring a wry little smile to the lips of the mother of any ostensibly Christian household. Mommy needs to get out the crucifix and use it to bludgeon the devil out of her sinful son.

Judge Parker, 12/22/07

Hmm, pot brownies should really leave Abbey “inspired” to do little more than sit in the office and giggle about all the clashing color schemes she keeps coming up with. New theory: meth brownies.

Slylock Fox, 12/22/07

You know what America needs more of? Superheroes that pick up criminals by the scruff of the neck and then punch them in the face.

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Luann, 12/19/07

Check out Toni’s right hand. Anything weird about it? A little off? No? How about the fact that it appears to be almost two-thirds as long as the whole rest of her arm? I know she’s a cartoon character with, for instance, weird beady little eyes and an impossibly large mouth, but there’s something about her hand that’s creeping me out. Urrrgggh.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I really hope Brad and Toni are overcome by the festiveness of their costumes and end up playing “bad Santa and naughty elf.” Not because I want to see or even imagine their erotic congress, mind you, but I just want it over with. Please. The sexual tension between these two is not hot. It’s soooo very un-hot and queasy-making, and the inhumanly large hand ISN’T HELPING. Just do it already, you two, because it will be terrible and awkward and you’ll never do it again and then we can all rest easy.

Spider-Man, 12/19/07

The sad thing is that the six weeks of Google searches to which we’re about be treated are actually preferable to the alternative, which is of course six weeks of Peter Parker whining at the TV. At least Spider-Man will actually be doing something, even if it’s just typing. I love the way the flat-screen monitor is dramatically foregrounded in the final panel, as if to say, “Here, dear reader! Here is the true hero of this strip! Behold, the Internet!”

Slylock Fox, 12/19/07

Remember, everyone, you don’t need to spend big money on tickets to Stomp! You can just recreate it in your own home! Also, children as young as eighteen months can be trained to make margaritas.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 12/19/07

I have a note in my calendar that today’s TDIET is from faithful reader Tili; if so, stand up and take a bow! I am in full solidarity with you, my night owl brother or sister. The Man tells you that you should get up early and go to bed early, but without late night toiling where would we be? This blog would be short quite a few posts, I’ll tell you that much.

Marmaduke, 12/19/07

Do you ever get the feeling that the creator of Marmaduke is just totally bonkers? Well, today’s comic is not going to disabuse you of that notion.

Hey, remember when I speculated on a Sally Forth-Shortpacked crossover? Behold my power over the world of cartooning!