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Judge Parker, 7/11/16

I don’t really have the strength to get into the various nuances of the Sophie-Derek-Honey triangle, or how the details have shifted over time to make Sophie look better. I just want to enjoy Derek’s hilarious pissyface in panel one. Look at that thing! It’s almost like he thought inviting two girls who like him but hate each other on this trip was a good idea and the scenario was going to work out great for him and everyone else involved. Sorry Derek!

Gil Thorp, 7/11/16

Is this funeral in a church? I really want Tru to have his full on nihilist breakdown in a church. “Some things are just random. No omniscient deity guides us towards an ending that was meant to be! Nothing has any meaning!” [clergyman attempts to drag him away] “Get your hands off me, you charlatan!”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/11/16

Meanwhile, in the “Rex found valuable comic books under the floorboard of his attic” plot, Rex’s pals are putting the valuable comic books that have been slowly mouldering under the floorboards of Rex’s attic for decades into protective sleeves, apparently under the misapprehension that protective sleeves work retroactively.

Slylock Fox, 7/11/16

You know, considering how often Slylock has Max and Melanie over socially, you’d think he’d get some chairs they could actually sit in.

(Psst! Today’s the twelfth anniversary of the day I started this blog by writing a pissy screed about Non Sequitur, for some reason! Thanks to everyone who’s been reading for twelve years or twelve minutes. It’s still fun and you’re all great!)

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Crankshaft, 7/10/16

“So here’s a pun that would be unbearably bad if we delivered it in a two or three panel daily strip. But what if … stay with me here … what if we ran it on Sunday, and stretched it out over six panels?”

Dennis the Menace, 7/10/16

My friend, if you don’t find it menacing when a child refuses an apple, then says “How about Adam an’ Eve … you know, original sin?”, and then walks out of the room, eating the apple, then you don’t know what menace is.

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Family Circus, 7/9/16

Much as I enjoy this image of poor Jeffy in tears, refusing to believe that his beloved fish pal is gone for good, it did make me suddenly realize what one of a veterinarian’s worst jobs must be: telling little kids that their pets are dead because their parents don’t have the nerve to do it themselves. “Uh, sure, Jeffy, your fish is, uh, probably fine. Let’s take him to the vet to cure him. If he can’t revive him, that just means he’s a bad vet, so be sure to yell at him.”

Funky Winkerbean, 7/9/16

When you live in the Funkyverse and are constantly confronted with the imminent reality of your own death, you really learn to make the most of it.