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Hello friends! Your COTW in a moment, but first, in seeing-Josh-tell-jokes news, I will be telling jokes in a standup show in Baltimore this coming Wednesday! It’s called The Hustle, it’s put on by What Weekly, and it’s at Maryland Art Place at 218 West Saratoga Street in downtown Baltimore. Starts at 8 p.m. Here is the Facebook event! Don’t miss it!

And now, your comment of the week:

“It’s difficult to say what is most attractive about Boog from Little Blond Girl’s perspective. Is it his unblinking glassy black eyes? His black sweatshirt that glows an eerie red for some reason? The way he deftly uses that non-descript metal object to punctuate his every thought and feeling? His ability to emit tiny black hearts at will like some impish wizard? What IS it?” –Flippin Arkansas

And your runners up! Very funny!

“Meanwhile, Snuffy realizes that he’s in Count Weirdly’s virtual-reality chamber when he sees celery and a bunch of yeller bannaners in Loweezy’s shopping bag. Might as well have a gorilla and a goddamn tree sloth.” –Oregonian

Apartment 3-G: “Meanwhile, back in New York, Margo has quit her job as a publicist and is now *rolls dice* a hot dog vendor.” –Liam

“Incurable disease? Boring! I’m more interested in the story behind that tripoded chimera child wandering the halls.” –sporknpork

“But it was only later, when they insisted that she put on wire-frame glasses and a beard, that Sarah realized that she was the central part of the special Toulouse Lautrec exhibition.” –odinthor

“‘DINNER WAS WONDERFUL AND NOW I’M GOING OUTSIDE!’ Cabbage and baked beans again, huh?” –pugfuggly

“Now that Carol’s demanded a big fat kiss, I’m about 60% sure she’s not Jack’s mom.” –bourbon babe, unbuckled

“In the third panel of today’s Mark Trail, we see the horrifying fate of rebellious waffles in Lost Forest. Nailed to a wall and left to the mold. Don’t cross Mark and Cherry, breakfast food. Just don’t.” –Voshkod

“‘How many kids are going to be in this group, Ms Lanning?’ ‘I’m not sure … it’s a busload! I could count the seats or something, but that just smacks of math. I have people for that.'” –Enlong

Apartment 3-G: “Tommie better watch out — Carol could kill her in front of a dozen witnesses and the cops would never be able to get an accurate description of her. ‘Yes officer, I saw the whole thing — the perp was 5’ 10” and about 40 years old.’ ‘No, no, no — she was only four feet tall and couldn’t have been more than sixteen!’ “Well, one thing we all agree on — she couldn’t stand in one place for long, and her neck swiveled like an owl’s.'” –Tom, the Sailor Man

Mary Worth: “Glad to see Tommy upped his game from panel 1 to panel 2 by switching his tight T-shirt for a looser one with a scooped neck, all the better to give Tina a tantalizing glimpse of the uppermost tuft of his chest hair, a.k.a. The Sternum Bush. Tommy knows that all ladies love themselves a little bit of sternum bush, and hopefully it will distract Tina from noticing how freakishly dilated his eyes are when he stares at her lovely, Keane-Kid sized head.” –gelded wilderbeeste

“I love Weezy’s look of seething rage in that last panel. ‘It’s one thing to poison folks,’ she thinks. ‘It’s quite another to look so damn smug about it. They may tolerate that in Funky Winkerbean, but that’s in that godless Ohio. This is Hootin’ Holler! When you be makin’ a punchline up here, you best be sticking out yore tongue!'” –Guts Dozier

Mary Worth: “Huh, so ‘gentleman’ is the code for creepy guy who offers to get me alone within 10 seconds of meeting now? It’s so hard to keep up with slang these days.” CanuckDownSouth

“Roombas are programed to target concentrated areas of dirt and filth. I’m just saying.” –TheDiva

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Gasoline Alley, 5/30/14

Ha ha, yes, remember how Little Blonde Girl Whose Name I Don’t Remember had a brother dying from an incurable disease? Well, incurable diseases get you all the model trains you want, and model trains help your sister’s love life! She doesn’t even have to be dying to reap the benefits. There’s a reason the hearts floating between her and Boog are an inky black: their love is being built on a foundation of the suffering of her loved ones.

Pluggers, 5/30/14

Pluggers are managing to accommodate their recent and dramatic full appreciation of their own mortality into their larger sense of self by integrating it into one of their most important characteristics: their innate cheapness.

Lockhorns, 5/30/14

If we need any further evidence that human biological life is an awful mistake, that the robots are a cleaner, better breed than us, we really need look no further than the contrast between the Lockhorns and their Roomba; the latter has spent exactly zero minutes of its existence attempting to passive-aggressively destroy another being that it ostensibly loves. RISE, MACHINES, RISE, RISE AND WIPE AWAY THE ORGANIC SCUM AND THEIR HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE EMOTIONS

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Hagar the Horrible, 5/29/14

In the 9th and 10th centuries, spices were unfathomably expensive in Western Europe; most came from the Muslim world and beyond, where the states were much more powerful than the chaotic post-Carolingian kingdoms, and so the Vikings usually had to offer money or legitimate trade items, rather than going with their usual M.O. of just raiding and looting. In other words, this scene is pretty much the early medieval Norse equivalent of a millionaire couple having sex on a bed covered in hundred-dollar bills.

Dennis the Menace, 5/29/14

“C’mon, Joey,” said Dennis. “Let’s go outside.”

“But … but Dennis, it’s pouring out. It’s been pouring out all day.”

“Whatever. We’re going out to play.”

And then they just stood there, under the umbrella that didn’t quite cover them both, for more than an hour. Dennis was staring at the sidewalk and the sign with an angry intensity. The silence was tense, electric. Joey didn’t dare move. He knew Dennis was thinking something, was about to say something, that he had brought him here for a reason — but for what? What did he have on his mind? What was he going to say? It was the most menacing evening Joey had ever spent. He knew his mother was waiting for him to come home, but he was too scared to leave.

Momma, 5/29/14

“Ha ha,” said the Hobbes siblings to each other, “Momma sure is having trouble parsing easy-to-understand English sentences!” None of them mentioned it, but they knew what they felt, that moment they walked into the living room and found her sitting in the chair, the TV still on, her head lolled grotesquely off to one side. For just a second, before her eyes jerked open and she started babbling nonsense, they all felt, deep in their hearts, the purest kind of freedom they’d ever known. They never talked about it, of course, but then again, they never had to.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 5/29/14

Hootin’ Holler’s soil is so poor and rocky that it cannot feed itself through subsistence agriculture; and yet, since it has nothing much else to offer economically, what food the inhabitants do manage to import from the outside world isn’t particularly plentiful or nourishing either.

Crankshaft, 5/29/14

Crankshaft is just a straight-up dick about everything, all the time.