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Heathcliff, 10/25/13

It’s pizza night, everyone! And that’s why Heathcliff is on the roof playing the bagpipes. Sure, there’s literally no correlation between bagpiping and pizza, but Heathcliff doesn’t care about your square cultural consensus about the correspondence between the signifier and the signified any more than he cares about local noise ordinances. Heathcliff’s going to stand on top of your God-damned roof playing the God-damned bagpipes and then eat some God-damned pizza, because he’s God-damned Heathcliff. It doesn’t have to make sense. You know it, he knows it, so why you don’t you just stand there and listen to “Amazing Grace” or “Scotland the Brave” or whatever until he decides he’s done, hmm?

(By the way, this is another Heathcliff that works very well with the caption replaced by “I’m thinking of unfriending him on Facebook.”)

Pluggers, 10/25/13

After going to great lengths to try to convince us that pluggers are wholly incapable of sexual arousal, the strip has finally admitted that, yes, pluggers can experience faint stirrings of lust, but only if they work so hard at it that they actually experience physical pain.

Lockhorns, 10/25/13

LOOK A CONTEMPORARY CULTURAL REFERENCE THE LOCKHORNS IS DEFINITELY NOT A COLLECTION OF THOUSANDS OF CARTOONS ALL DRAWN IN A SWEATSHOP IN 1965 AND DOLED OUT TO NEWSPAPERS ONE AT A TIME OVER THE DECADES PLEASE CONTINUE READING THANK YOU

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Mark Trail, 10/24/13

So I hadn’t mentioned this earlier but Johnny Walker shot an elk and wounded it but then didn’t bother to follow it and put it out of its misery, and though I’m a city slicker who is terrified of things you encounter while hunting (guns, animals, direct sunlight, “outside,” etc.) it was pretty clear to me from context that this made him evil. And now, as he flees with Mark Trail’s enormous, battery-drained cell phone, he’s about to meet that elk, and its huge, razor-sharp antlers! Pretty sure this is the first example of “Chekov’s elk” in the history of narrative.

Spider-Man, 10/24/13

Yeah, so, Spidey and the Tarantula have pretty much won their fight against El Condor and his regime, but they still seem to be awful cocky about their current scenario? Remember, this is a brutal dictator for whom the best case near-term scenario probably involves a brief show trial before a Revolutionary Tribunal resulting in a sentence of execution by firing squad; more likely outcomes involve a rope, a lamppost in the plaza in front of the presidential palace, and nobody who knows how to do a hanging properly so it’s swift and painless. So, you know, why not shoot at one or more of the spider-themed superheroes who helped the leftist running dogs overthrow you? Especially when they’re both being so smug and irritating?

Crankshaft, 10/24/13

Speaking of revolutions: Crankshaft knew that his own reign of terror couldn’t last forever, that eventually the children on his bus route and their parents and his co-workers and his own family would realize they had had enough of him, and would organize to send him into the dustbin of history. But unlike El Condor, Crankshaft was prepared. You could still just barely hear the angry mob in the distance, baying for blood, but already the CIA helicopter was landing inside Crankshaft’s compound. The citizenry could take their rage out on his fence and his yard, could tear his house to bits, but they would never find Crankshaft. It was like he was never there at all.

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Lockhorns, 10/23/12

Never let it be said that long-running legacy strips don’t occasionally enjoy innovating! For instance, today’s Lockhorns brings us a new perspective on Leroy and Loretta — specifically, a perspective about nine inches above their bedroom floor, for some reason. Normally I think of the Lockhorns as being fairly short and squat, but today we experience what it would be like to be a tiny, tiny creature over whom they loom menacingly!

Family Circus, 10/23/13

I can’t even tell you how happy I am that Jeffy has a sweatshirt (t-shirt? it’s hard to tell, given his freakishly stumpy arms) that just says “JEFFY” across the front in big letters. Do you think it’s so that in case he forgets who he is, he can look down and be reminded, both by his name written there and by all the chicken grease stains?

Dennis the Menace, 10/23/12

“Drowning, that’s how I’d kill a man,” Mr. Wilson had said. “No fuss, no muss, not a lot of messy blood,” Mr. Wilson had said.

Pluggers, 10/23/12

Danger, Pluggers, danger! The only reason anyone from fancy-pants New York City would write into you would be to make fun of your readers and their horrible fashion sense! Do not use their suggestions in your comic! Also, you have terrible crippling osteoporosis.