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Slylock Fox, 3/26/12

Never let it be said that Slylock only uses his detective services to buttress the prevailing capitalistic power structure! Count Weirdly can drive around with his sinister magnet and cheerful octopus sidekick all day, wrenching valuable steel and iron out of the skyscrapers where the wealthy gather, cackling all the while. Who cares? The Count himself is a member of the aristocracy, so let’s just let the rich fight it out. But these easily terrified homeless beavers — they must have their feelings soothed, through comforting scientific explanations, so that they know that they were never in any real danger (except for danger from death by exposure, when their two wagons’ worth of cans don’t garner enough to pay for a flophouse for the evening).

Mary Worth, 3/26/12

Speaking of America’s tragic homelessness problem, words cannot express how completely giddy I am at the prospect of a week-long summit between Suddenly Conscience-Having Nola and this magical hobo. Presumably, having been softened up by a drunken tirade of abuse from her latest victim, Nola will learn the true meaning of kindness from this man, who, despite having a beard so filthy and ill-kempt it can only be described as “lumpy,” still takes a moment out of his busy day of shouting at invisible demons and not freezing to death to spare a kind word for a weeping businesslady. Will Nola repay this act of generosity by volunteering down at the soup kitchen, or let him camp out in her sweet office, or perhaps move on with her life a better person and never once spare a thought to any existence this homeless person might have outside of the few moments he spent interacting with her? Yeah, probably the last one.

Apartment 3-G, 3/26/12

Margo being an all-heels all-the-time gal fits in pretty well with her personality and whatever we can glimpse of her cultural milieu through the fog of Eisenhower Era-ish art, but I was still kind of surprised to hear her say it, probably because we almost never get to see her below the solar plexus, so who knows what her shoes look like? Does she even have feet?

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Pluggers, 3/20/12

HELLO EVERYONE! Did you enjoy a week with your favorite Uncle — a week that, as Pluggers would like to remind you, brought you just a little bit closer to your inevitable death in poverty? I’ll bet you did! I’ll be back with new comics tomorrow, but did want to offer up your slightly delayed comment of the week!

“I hear that more and more insurance companies are carrying the ‘walk in the park’ option in lieu of offering maternity leave. It’s part of their ‘walk it off, wuss’ complete coverage plan.” — pugfuggly

And your runners up! Very funny!

Apartment 3-G: “Little girls use toys. Margo uses TOOLS.” — UncleJeff

Crankshaft: “Pretty elaborate plot to get Cranky to pick up the bar tab for once.” — TheDiva

Popeye: “The Doomsday Doll is blond, endowed, and interested in physical contact – obviously Sea Hag didn’t research Popeye’s taste in women at all.” — NoahSnark

9 Chickweed Lane: “Let me see if I understand this. Edda becomes a super model who’s become virtually synonymous with your clothing line. Thus the thing to do is fire Edda and have your company known as the assholes that fired the nice hot chick. Are these the same guys that came up with ‘New Coke?'” — Zerowolf

Funky Winkerbean: “‘Les: “Does anyone know what the opening sentence of Moby Dick is? Cory?’
Cory: ‘To the last I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee.’
Les: ‘That’s very good, but that’s not the opening sentence. It’s near the end of the book.’
Cory: ‘What is???'” — seismic-2

“9 Chickweed Lane today is a metaphor for Amos’s unlucky sperm cell, screaming piteously as it falls into Edda’s hellish inferno of an egg.” — Tom T.

9 Chickweed Lane: “Remember, it’s only premarital sex if you get married afterwards!” — greghousesgf

Slylock Fox: “Yes, evidence indicates someone was here moments ago. But the informant claimed the escaped prisoner was hiding in a vacant cabin. Therefore, whoever is hiding in this occupied cabin must not be the escaped prisoner. Case closed! Now, who wants toast?” — Mysterion

Curtis: “I don’t always drink beer. But when I do, I prefer Cuss Skunk.” — Frank Lee Meidere

“Why can Ballard Street do full rear nudity, but not Judge Parker? God dammit.” — commodorejohn

“I notice that Dinette Set comes with a warning at the bottom that it ‘may cause drosiness’. Is drosiness that feeling you get when you want to punch whoever writes these things?” — The Mighty Untrained FOOZLE

“The Dinette Set does not appear in my local newspaper. I’m starting a petition drive to keep it that way.” — Zerowolf

Family Circus: “Why would the clock tick, mommy? Is that like having fleas? Why can’t we enter the twenty-first century like normal people?” — Droopy Says

Thanks to all who put some cash into my tip jar! And this is where we’d thank our advertisers — if we had any this week. To find out more about how you could be thanked in this spot, and more about sponsoring this site’s RSS feed, click here.

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Sunday serials mostly summarize the preceding week — apparently newspapers put the interests of decent Sunday-only and weekday-only subscribers over those of degenerate free-rider Internet obsessives. Thanks a lot, newspapers! Here we go:

Apartment 3-G, 3/25/12

This week’s Apartment 3-G “action” consists of Tommie asking Nina Gaines if she wants to take a walk. While we wait for her answer (give it a month or so), consider that poor Nina is trying to balance her commitment to a career with loyalty to her insensitive clod of a husband amid a storm of powerful lady-hormones that make her weep uncontrollably over every little thing.

Compared to the motivations that drive principal characters Lu Ann (“Shiny!”), Margo (“Blood!”), and Tommie (“What?”), this makes Nina the most complex, nuanced character in Apartment 3-G — its Cleopatra, Lady Macbeth, and Hedda Gabler. She really deserves her own strip, maybe teamed up with Professor Papagoras fighting crime or rescuing pets.

Mary Worth, 3/25/12

Whoa, here’s an unexpected development! Long months after their encounter in the shopping district, Nola remains rooted to her park bench, paralyzed by shame. Smithers — now sober and wiser, his tear-stained tie traded for a snappy cap, and CEO of his own environmental-services startup — returns to help her move on: “Nola, my life as Sales VP was a desperate, lonely wasteland until your lies led me to a greater truth. Because of you I have found enlightenment and peace, so thank you, thank you, my sweet, wonderful *&@#%$!”

Dick Tracy, 3/25/12

Aww, we’ve been neglecting this strip since its conversion to representational art and narrative coherence. Here, criminal gargoyle Blackjack takes a break from his crime spree for some strategic Dick Tracy-related product placement.

Judge Parker, 3/25/12

Hey, remember that story in Judge Parker? The one about the black sedan tailing Li’l Judge Randy and his Walther PPK and the botched murder attempt and how April Bower was implicated and that showdown with the mysterious lady assassin? The story that’s been going on since September, 2010? You do remember it? Well, forget it.

That’s it for me — Josh will be back Monday with a frothy mix of comics, COTW, and all the rich Joshy goodness we’ve come to know and love. Thanks for a fun week!

— Uncle Lumpy