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Funky Winkerbean, 4/19/12

Congrats to Funky Winkerbean for coming up with a storyline that finally makes me feel hate for it again, instead of just bemused indifference! I don’t know why I find Underclassman Nerd Whose Name I Don’t Remember’s love for Summer so irritating. As a nerd myself who likes feisty, non-demure gals, you’d think I’d be in his corner, but I just find his whole strategy and technique annoying and doomed. Since he first fell for her because she rescued him from a bully, I suppose that the inevitable ending of this plot, in which Summer punches U.N.W.N.I.D.R. in the face, will at least provide some O. Henry-style chuckles.

Today’s strip also made me laugh joylessly at the thought that Montoni’s represents “good pizza,” rather than “the only pizza you can eat outside your home in this hell-burg, and also Summer’s dad works there so what do you expect.”

Crock, 4/19/12

You guys, nobody tell the creators of Crock that “pitch a tent” is a euphemism for sporting a visible erection, OK? I don’t want them to be embarrassed about how they accidentally used the phrase in this comic. (I choose to believe that they’re unfamiliar with this bit of modern-day slang, because the alternative is too awful to contemplate.)

Marvin, 4/19/12

Marvin’s parents can’t bring themselves to kill him with a rock, so they’ve just fled from the house and are letting him starve to death.

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Hello, Comics Curmudgeon readers! You are probably aware (because I’ve pointed it out to you several times) that I co-run a Tumblr, called [Citation Needed], full of hilarious/terrible excerpts from Wikipedia. You are probably also aware that there is a book that culls the best of the Tumblr, and includes funny jokes from us to boot. But what you may not know is that you can get the Kindle version of the book for free for the rest of the week! We are hoping you will download it on your Kindle and think “What I need is a paper copy of this book that I can keep in the bathroom at all times” and then you’ll shell out for that, but really if you just get it on your Kindle and enjoy it we’ll be mildly satisfied.

The occasion for this act of generosity is tomorrow, which is of course the 2012 edition of National High Five Day. While surely you are aware of this event and probably already have the day off from work, what you may not know is that it’s an entirely fake holiday co-invented ten years ago by Conor Lastowka, who is my partner in [Citation Needed] curation (and also a writer for Rifftrax). Conor has recently decided that High Five Day should be not just about propagating obvious falsehoods about the origin of the high five, but also about helping others, and thus is not only giving out Kindle editions of our book (which helps you via the gift of laughter) but also raising money for cancer research. Have you wanted to fight cancer, but always feel like doing so just makes everyone in Funky Winkerbean all the smugger? Well, click here to help make a genuine friend o’ Josh smug instead.

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Mark Trail, 4/18/12

OK, guys, I know that what I’m about to type will sound like pure liquid madness, but: does anyone else think that the current series of Mark Trail events actually somewhat hold together logically? I’m thinking in particular about these two boys here, who, despite their cheery bravado, are not the brightest pair of underemployed mulletheads in the county, as their decision to grow pot on government land indicates, and have arrived at this place in their life because of their inability to clearly plan out the steps they need to reach their goals. Probably a lot of brutal killings that happen in the course of the illegal narcotics trade don’t happen because someone woke up one morning hoping to become an axe murderer; it’s just that someone stumbles upon your grow operation, and he’s seen your stuff and he’s seen your faces, and, well, murder’s a big deal, you probably don’t do it right away, but you can’t let him go, and the hours pass and you can’t think of other options, and, I mean, you’ve already got the axe. It’s right there, you know?

Beetle Bailey, 4/18/12

Everything in Beetle Bailey, meanwhile, only makes sense in a unsettling fugue state of underdeveloped eroticism. Beetle and Miss Buxley are in a field, and it’s the middle of the night, and suddenly she stubs her toe. “Hug me!” she demands, and the Beetle, who’s never shown anything other than platonic interest in her, suddenly becomes a sexually aggressive bear. It’s like what Freud must have thought sex was like, when he was nine.