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Gil Thorp, 9/3/14

Captain of Industry Art Standish lays down the law to a public employee over whom he has no power, and who can inconvenience him mightily with no effort or risk of repercussions. I bet ol’ Art just cracks ’em up down at the DMV: “What’s that, sir? Oh, you pay my salary? Hey, Denise, we got a VIP with us this morning — this gentleman taxpayer here pays my salary! Well sir, why don’t you just stop paying those taxes — I bet that’ll fix me good won’t it?”

Curtis, 9/3/14

An alternate-dimension Curtis arrives to teach Our Curtis a Valuable Lesson, misuse the word “identical”, and start an argument about who is argumentative. Don’t worry, Our Curtis — evidence suggests that you are indeed the “smart” Curtis, although frankly this speaks poorly of dimensions everywhere.

Mary Worth, 9/3/14

Mary advises acting on only your most powerful delusions. Isn’t that pretty much how delusions work?

Judge Parker, 9/3/14

Speaking of delusions, this is Neddy’s business plan! Hey kid, your landlord doesn’t need to see it unless you want to use the space rent-free, in which case you are looking for money.

And isn’t Bebe already a thing that exists?

Josh and Amber rolled into Los Angeles on Tuesday evening, to stay with family overnight and start moving into their new home today. I’m on the clock for a little while longer to give Josh time to find his computer, connect to the Internet, and catch up on all the action in Apartment 3-G.

And so ends the Westward Bound! Comics Curmudgeon fundraiser. Every contributor will be receiving a personal thank-you from Josh, but I’d like to add my own: thanks, you guys are the best!

— Uncle Lumpy

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OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS only one day left until Josh reaches LA! Last day for your generous and historic contribution! HURRY HURRY HURRY just click the banner right here ↓↓↓ HURRY!

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Wizard of Id, 9/2/14

Do you think the Wizard makes his own coffee? I don’t think the Wizard makes his own coffee.

So here’s how mornings go down in the Ofid household: when the rooster goes off Wiz casually throws a frogspell into Blanche there and hits snooze for a couple more Zs. Blanche hops wetly to the kitchen and struggles to get the coffee started. Nothing works: she slides around on the linoleum, her webbed fingers don’t grip the matches, eyes aren’t wired to see anything that isn’t moving, and she reflexively splots every fly – and these are the Middle Ages so FLIES, yo. Finally she gets the job done and sits down to have a cup and wash out the fly taste. She’s way past expecting thanks or even courtesy but could she at least have her goddamn window back you asshole?

Mark Trail, 9/2/14

Dirty, Dirty, Dirty, you just can’t catch a break with these stampedes, can you? It’s like recurring psoriasis, only with charismatic megafauna.

And c’mon, Mark – those elephants are already headed away from you in the first panel. Admit it, you’re doing this for fun.

Pluggers, 9/2/14

Pluggers can’t understand why looters don’t get free delivery.

Funky Winkerbean, 9/2/14

It’s not Les Moore it’s not Les Moore it’s not Les Moore it’s not Les Moore it’s not Les Moore ….

So hey. Yeah, Josh and Amber arrive in LA late tomorrow God willing but that doesn’t mean you get your precious Josh back QUITE so fast no siree. There are households to unload; laid-back California ISPs to bribe, cajole, and threaten; and sleep debts to pay off.

The fundraiser ends when they arrive in LA (Hurry! Thanks!), but I’ll stay on a bit. The plan is for me to post through Friday and Josh to return with COTW sometime that afternoon. But you know what happens to plans, right? — they gang aft agley, that’s what. I’ll keep you posted.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Could this be the single best day in all of history to contribute to the Comics Curmudgeon? Probably! Click the banner and find out for sure!

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Apartment 3-G, 9/1/14 (panel)

They’re going to either burst into a Rocky Ledge duet or dash for the bedroom, and I don’t know which would be worse.

Slylock Fox, 9/1/14

I’m always fascinated by Weirdly’s gadgets, minor taxonomy-related errors aside. But I was transfixed by Slylock’s scuba outfit, encasing his luxuriant red tail in yards of pillowy blue neoprene. At first it looked like a clever canid-specific buoyancy compensator, maintaining both depth and balance — probably fart-powered to conserve breathing air and protect the delicate reef ecology. Then I saw Max’s predicament, and realized that Sly’s tailsheath is essential defense against the carnivorous goldfish, which consumes its victim tail-first, inch by inch, until after long months of agony the nose disappears into its toothy maw like the final cherry of an after-dinner flambé. Red in tooth and claw, folks — dive safe, and keep those tails covered!

Mary Worth, 9/1/14

Mary is driven insane about the way l’affaire Kaphut was resolved without her interference so no credit is coming her way and she had to go crawling to that smug punk son of her jellyfish boyfriend just to find out what the hell happened. Like she’s no better than some damn nurse! In her rage she lets her defenses slip and reverts to the hair, posture, expression, and sing-songy speech cadences of an Evil Queen in a Disney movie (probably Ursula from The Little Mermaid, but maybe Cruella from 101 Dalmations, your choice):

♫ “You seeeeeeeeem to have very ACurate gutinnnnnnnnstincts (cackle cackle cackle)!” ♫
♫ “You KNOW what was reeeeeecently reVEALED about himmmmmmm? hmmmmmmm? (cackle shriek cackle, whiff of sulfur, bright flash)”

Van Horn Texas — home to Jeff Bezos’ Blue Image spaceport and the 10,000-year clock buried in the surrounding hills. Come for the diesel-fried chicken and donkey-ropin’; leave for Tucson in the morning. Send burrito money, folks — he’s a long, long way from home and a burrito could be a good friend right now.

— Uncle Lumpy