Post Content

Pluggers, 8/26/12

The bear-man pays the dog-man for savory chunks of the pig-man, sparing a few coins for the orphans of his meal.

Pluggers are charitable.

Slylock Fox, 8/24/12, 8/26/12 (panels)

Oh, somebody‘s been practicing his Weirdlys!

It’s hard not to see this as a “Six Differences” panel: snake, fists, frog, wrath, pride, gluttony, lust. OK, that’s seven differences — shoot me.

Curtis, 8/26/12

O Fortuna! The great Wheel of Curtis turns again to “Curtis is humiliated trying on clothes.” But the store is shown as completely empty except at the exact moment the dressing-room door opens — so where did all these people come from? Is it some kind of flash-mob event? What sort of person would show up for something like that? Have the authorities been notified?

I have to say that with the departure of Brenda Starr, Diane Wilkins is my favorite woman in the comics. Sorry, Blondie — we had some great times.

Baby Blues, 8/26/12 (panels)

Voosh boof durbatulûk
Voosh boof gimbatul
Voosh boof thrakatulûk
Agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 8/26/12 (panel)

Be very afraid!

Hey, that’s it for me — Josh will be back soon with Comments of the Week and a whole new lineup of the usual suspects. Thanks for a fun week!

— Uncle Lumpy

Post Content

Apartment 3-G, 8/25/12

Dude, loosen the grip: Margo isn’t leaving, you are. Or maybe not! Ever the professional, Margo tells Cooper, “I will gladly break a prior commitment to avoid spending any more time with you than absolutely necessary. But no need for thanks — that’s just the kind of service my clients have come to expect from me, even though it’s my first day in this business!”

Dick Tracy, 8/25/12

You know, I don’t think I’d eat at a sushi joint at the back of an aquarium, especially if it had really low prices. But of course Phishface is a cannibal, not an epicure: he dines to assimilate the strength of vanquished foes, so taste and freshness aren’t deal-breakers. This adventure can end only in the gruesome hook-related death of Phishface, or a grand feast of bland, stale toreshimaki.

Also, whales are fish. Told you so.

Beetle Bailey, 8/25/12

Oh, look — more golf crap!

The Lockhorns, 8/25/12

You know, for somebody who routinely gets rowdy drunk, monopolizes the hottest chicks, and picks fights, Leroy Lockhorn still gets invited to a lot of parties.

— Uncle Lumpy

Post Content

Judge Parker, 8/24/12

Last seen tormenting Curtis, Cuss Skunk returns to her rural roots to divert Sam and Avery while the marijuana growers recover Avery’s incriminating photo. @★ω*!!

The outlines of the growers’ nefarious plan are now clear: rather than murder Sam and Avery or steal the camera, they intend to prank them into submission. Watch for the criminals to put makeup on our heroes as they sleep, cut off the toes of their socks, and hoist their underwear up the flagpole. They were going to short-sheet Avery’s bed, but it doesn’t seem to be in use tonight.

Mark Trail, 8/24/12

And in today’s other criminals ‘n’ cameras story, Cherry reveals that her plan to protect Rusty from the sheep-murderers is to hope nothing bad happens. The Game Warden’s plan is to hunker down and rely on Mark Trail. They have an equal probability of success!

Family Circus, 8/24/12

Billy’s decision to join the Hasidim will not sit well back at the Keane Kompound.

Gil Thorp, 8/24/12

Oh hey, another advantage of match play is that once a player is ahead by more holes than are left to play, the match is over — and who doesn’t love less golf? Steve’s delighted that his terrible performance gives him special alone time to pitch his miserable woo to Molly Kinsella: “Hey Molly, will you go out with me now that I’m a documented loser?

Pluggers, 8/24/12

Pluggers are slobs.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 8/24/12

“Sorry, Melissa — I engaged a lady once, and it didn’t work out well. Not well at all!”

Mary Worth, 8/24/12

Gaaaaaaaah — “Tell me AGAIN?” ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? People came together to help one another, and life is brutal — is that so freaking hard to understand? Sheesh.

Four hairs. There are always and forever exactly four hairs.

— Uncle Lumpy