Post Content











Click above to contribute by credit card or PayPal, here to contribute by check, or here for more details — Thanks!


Spring is in the air! And what better way to celebrate than with a generous donation to the Comics Curmudgeon? Twice a year, I encourage readers to join me in financial support of this fine entertainment, to keep the Comics Curmudgeon strong and independent. If Josh helped enrich your life this past winter, why not return the favor?

Click the banner above to contribute by credit card or PayPal. Full details are here, along with an index to all 36 fundraising banners. Enjoy, and thank you!

— Uncle Lumpy

About this Post

Comments are closed.

Post Content

Dennis the Menace, 3/7/11

Fart joke + slur on treasured American brand = Menace Level 4.7. Points off for the grin.

Mark Trail, 3/7/11

Mark realizes he will soon be shipwrecked with a boatload of arms smugglers! At that precise moment, a beloved animal friend appears as if to remind him that it’s turtles all the way down. That must have been some bump on the head.

Note to comic strip characters: whether you are a man or a woman, it is OK to be named Lonnie. Do not, however, stand next to anybody named Lonnie, whether on the street or at the altar.

Dick Tracy, 3/7/11

Ah, the deaths of Dick Tracy villains. Torched in a wind generator fire. Killed in a fall from the U.S. Capitol Rotunda. Brain wiped clean. Killed in a fall down a smokestack. Blown to bits. Crushed under a bulldozer. Dismembered by a pack of dogs. Immolated in a car fire. Pancaked by a falling antique warplane. And now, eaten alive by rats. Say it with me: Eaten. Alive. By. Rats.

Next Sunday, the Dick Tracy franchise will pass to a new creative team. So Mr. Brozman, thank you for the wonderful rats. And sincere congratulations on your retirement, Mr. Locher — for the five years this blog has followed you through thick and thin, you have never disappointed, not once.

Momma, 3/7/11

What passes for pride in the Mommaverse.

Luann, 3/7/11

Tiffany counts on her fingers how many minutes it will take her to “date” the rest of the football team.

— Uncle Lumpy

Post Content

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 3/6/11

America’s most isolated rural enclave falls at last to the scourge of mef. Soon Jughaid will be raising ‘Tater alone as Snuffy puts up the still for bail and Loweezy gives her sweet love to the Law. At least Hootin’ Holler is safe from mef mouf, due to its residents’ lack of teef.

Mary Worth, 3/6/11

Um, Dawn — if you want to sleep, how about turning your big incesty asphyxiation-play poster around to face the wall? I know I won’t be getting much sleep until you do.

Crankshaft, 3/6/11

To everyone who thinks Ed Crankshaft is a born asshole, he replies: “Assholes are made, not born! Watch me make one out of my son-in-law Jeff, here!”

And in a sign that the idea well at Crankshaft HQ is going dry, the creative process for today’s strip began, “Say, we haven’t done anything with Pam in a long time — there must be something we can do with Pam!”

Judge Parker, 3/6/11

Oh, poo. No murder, no impersonation — just an ambitious intern, “I know I’ve got what it takes”, tedious exposition (“other boss” WTF?), and blah blah blah. How is this different than Sophie’s cheerleader tryouts, exactly? Oh yeah — no audience or professional judging this time around. But hey — Alan’s enjoying the hell out of his Smug Chow, there.

— Uncle Lumpy