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Zits, 9/14/12

My wife and I got married seven years ago this week, and we were together for three years before that, so yes, there is a certain amount of gas-passing that goes on in each other’s presence at this point in our relationship, and by “a certain amount” I mean “good lord it is a constant chemical warfare battle of the sort banned by the Geneva Conventions.” And yet I still have a certain amount of sympathy for what’s going on at the bottom left of the third panel. Walt’s just shoveling spoon after spoon of fart-fuel into his gaping maw, blithely assuring his son that someday he and his true love will be so confident in each other’s affections that they’ll go through life hand-in-hand, surrounded by an invisible self-generated cloud of noxious gas, their farts mingling and becoming one; but Connie’s face is a frozen mask, as she tries to hide the fact that her soul dies a little every time Walt toots audibly at the dinner table. I mean, there’s a bathroom right up the hall, you know? It even has a fan.

Mary Worth, 9/14/12

Well, it looks like Dawn is going to be living a more meaningful life, since she’s sure to imbue the fact that her new boyfriend (DO NOT DOUBT THAT HE WILL BE HER NEW BOYFRIEND) has but one arm with much more meaning than the situation deserves. (As about a million people pointed out in the comments, Jim’s disability was completely obvious in yesterday’s strip and yet I managed to not notice it at all, whoops.) Will Jim turn out to be a war hero, or even a semi-hero like Gil’s ex-student? Or is he just some guy who shouldn’t have reached so far into the garbage disposal? Whatever the case, we all know who the real hero is here: Wilbur, for inventing the Meat-Tart that Jim is enjoying with one-handed ease.

Dennis the Menace, 9/14/12

It appears that a shifty-eyed Dennis the Menace has decided on a new tactic in his war against society’s strictures: hard-line Calvinist theology. Isn’t the omnipotent God, who created the universe and predetermined our very ends before time began, the real menace here?

Momma, 9/14/12

“Francis, you have 17 of your friends on ‘speed dial,’ despite the fact that your phone appears to be a rotary-dial bakelite model of the sort not produced in more than 25 years. Why? And, more importantly, How?”

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Apartment 3-G, 10/10/11

OK, so Queen Bee turns out to be less a pop-culture icon than a vaguely Fluxus-y performance artist — more Yoko Ono than Lady Gaga — taking deadly aim at the artistic conventions of 16^th-century Florence, with her stinging parody of the single most-parodied painting in history. GASP! Watch out, Edvard Munch — you’re next!

Thanks to Margo for all the helpful exposition in panel two, there. Otherwise, who would’ve guessed?

Apartment 3-G, 10/10/11, The Mona Lisa (details, edited)

WHOA! But despite Jo’s enthusiastic assurances that this is all somehow going viral, I’m pretty sure YouTube can handle the traffic.

Zits, 10/10/11

Speaking of transgression, I would not have picked Zits as first comic to cross the line
into Mom-bondage. OK, Blondie might have been wishful thinking, but at least we were spared Momma.

Ziggy, 10/10/11

And for real subversion of artistic convention, look at the way Ziggy manages to look even more obscene with his pants on.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Apartment 3-G, 12/14/10

You might find it hard to believe that Lu Ann is sending out radar waves of pure pleasure at the prospect of a quick trip via PATH train to Hoboken, New Jersey, and may think that that she’s just enjoying the music of the pretty man’s voice without bothering to strain her thinking muscle in an attempt to figure out what his beautiful syllables mean. But remember, this is the girl who practically swallowed her tongue in joy at the prospect of a trip to South Dakota, so clearly she’s easy to please, destination-wise.

Beetle Bailey, 12/14/10

You probably viewed this comic with mild disgust at its content, combined with a certain amount of contempt for its portrayal of bedbugs as large enough to be visible. And of course it’s ludicrous that Sarge would be feeding them cereal, since bedbugs subsist on one and only one thing: blood. Which means that Sarge probably isn’t feeding them cereal at all, and is in fact holding a big bowl of scabs. Oh, did your disgust just get a lot less mild?

Mary Worth, 12/14/10

“You and Scott are meant to be together! You’re right to be sure! And sure to be right! You don’t mind if I hover mere inches away from you and talk to you while you attempt to share an intimate moment at a stressful time, do you? Of course you don’t!”

Zits, 12/14/10

Ha ha, Jeremy’s room smells like a dog pooped in it!