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Apartment 3-G, 4/20/15

I won’t try to update you on recent goings-on in Apartment 3-G, because, well, let’s just say Josh’s theory that the strip has become a livestream of Margo’s psychotic delusions seems as good as any. This new guy/hallucination is either some jerk who’s been pranking Margo on the streets for a few months, or one of her string of unfortunate lovers stretching back to the Kennedy administration, and there is NO WAY I’m implying that those two are mutually exclusive. Maybe in Margo’s fevered imagination President Kennedy himself has come back from the dead to prank her on the streets, I wouldn’t rule it out. Quite the card, that Jack — and lookin’ pretty sharp for a man of 97.

Gasoline Alley, 4/20/15

Like everybody, I just knew when a custodian named “Gus Todian” showed up, he would pepper Mrs. “Trace Me” Hatley and the rest of us with pointless and annoying wordplay. But “vegetablearian” had me stumped until I realized it was an attempt to force “veterinarian” in there, as though veterinarians, or for that matter midwives, help out after insects hatch. From their eggs. Just shut up and go get Jetpack the wetvac, Gus — slurp up those nymphs mighty quick.

Judge Parker, 4/20/15

Long, long ago — decades before his New Year’s Day 2000 wedding to Abbey Spencer — Sam was the badass in this strip. He was a detective, then, doing the tough, messy work stuffy neither Judge Alan nor that effete smartass Randy had the stones or the competence to do themselves. But consigliere or not, it’s the Parkers’ name on the strip, and Sam will never be family.

Now, while Alan and Randy jet off to jungle compounds to quaff Cristal with willowy assassins and international arms merchants, Sam squats in this washed-out squirrel-infested trailer park, nursing his diminishing stores of supermarket plonk, ignoring his shrieking, entitled daughter, and picking fights with the likes of Dalton here and his meaty comrades. I wouldn’t go pointing that finger, Dalton — our boy’s having a very bad day.

–Uncle Lumpy

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Beetle Bailey, 4/19/15

Never mind the deceptively delicate “sent to look for dangerous things” mission description — this is a hardened, deadly battle-drone that forces Beetle to reveal himself as a pacifist shirker or die. Deftly, Beetle inserts a brief viral message into the drone’s code, a vision of happy indolence — to live in the midst of an army, yet be far removed from the exertions and terrors of war. The drone is immediately and completely disarmed. Asymmetric warfare, indeed!

Beetle is thus exposed as a subversive menace and an imminent threat to our armed forces. I’m counting on Sarge to crush him. At least a couple times, this week.

Funky Winkerbean, 4/19/15

Say, didn’t we just finish “petulant writer gets the chance of a lifetime in Hollywood and whines about it the whole time”? Why yes we did. So why are we sending in the B team? And will we never, ever be free of Starbuck Jones? Didn’t John Carter teach Hollywood that old-timey science fiction is a bore and a money pit?

I do like the “handsome actor drives around mumbling incoherently” bit, although that car should definitely be a Lincoln.

Prince Valiant, 4/19/15

Nearing home, Aleta reflects, “Sure, girls, you can always enslave your enemies. But take it from Mom, it’s much easier just to straight-up crucify them. Oops ha-ha, I mean ‘peg’ them to ‘posts.'”

Val thinks, “Uh-oh, wife’s in one of her moods again. Hmm, maybe I can help out in the galley for a while.”

— Uncle Lumpy

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Dick Tracy, 4/18/15

Long experience tells me that when an odd name like ABE ONGO shows up in Dick Tracy, it’s probably an anagram. I’m going with “BEAN GOO.”

And aww, Dick has tender feelings about old-timey public libraries. Let’s see if they survive his trudge past racks of DVDs and cadres of porn-surfers, searching in vain for anything that remotely resembles a book. Hey, Dick, get with the times — it’s a library, not a museum.

Funky Winkerbean, 4/18/15

Writers are saints, producers are monsters, and readers are fools. Enjoy your treasured Funky Winkerbean comic strip, ladies and gentlemen!

Marvin, 4/18/15

I sure hope this isn’t a crossover, because I do not need Ed Crankshaft poop jokes.

Hi there! Josh is off on his annual Southwestern sojourn, so I’m sitting in until the 28th. You can reach me at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net if you encounter any site issues. Enjoy!

–Uncle Lumpy