Comment of the Week

Maybe it's just that the standards of menace have been so raised by the likes of Calvin and Hobbes or Bart Simpson but I can't remember ever seeing Dennis engage in behavior that would make him a poor children's party guest. He wears a tiny suit to church for goodness sake! He's really just a menace because the strip is called Dennis the Menace but who told the inhabitants of the strip that? Who is going around badmouthing this precocious kid who at worst doesn't always live up to 1950s standards of etiquette? I ask but we all already know it's Mr. Wilson, Mr. Wilson is making the neighbor kid a social pariah out of a sort of misplaced dissatisfaction and inadequacy that his pension wasn't enough to settle him in a gated community with no children.

BananaSam

Post Content

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 3/22/12

See, it’s just like the 1914 Flanders Christmas Truce, but with colorful accents, obesity, and th’ diabetuss.

Funky Winkerbean, 3/22/12

Bull, dear, you were scouted by the St. Louis Cardinals, not “the then” St. Louis Cardinals. Believe it or not, they were called “the St. Louis Cardinals” only during their years in St. Louis (1960 – 1987), so there’s no risk of confusion with any “before” or “after” St. Louis Cardinals. If you need to rule out the baseball team, just add “NFL” or “football.” But otherwise, please — it’s a language; people use it to communicate. Show some care with it.

Now if Les were a real friend, he’d help Bull relive his glory days by pointing out his error at great length — with helpful examples, a diagram or two, and maybe a condescending little smirk. Then Bull could pound his ass like back in the day, go home, bang Linda, and enjoy his best night’s sleep in twenty-five years.

Spider-Man, 3/22/12

Utterly ineffective against Loki and now immobilized, Spider-Man’s gonna spectate the hell out of this battle. It’s like a dream come true!

Marvin, 3/22/12

If he’s sitting on the comics page, I dread tomorrow’s strip.

— Uncle Lumpy

Post Content

Beetle Bailey, 3/21/12

Amos Halftrack, aspirational onanist.

Judge Parker, 3/21/12

Nuzzling, not muzzling!

Blondie, 3/21/12

Dagwood Bumstead, Siri’s bitch.

Curtis, 3/21/12

Cuss Skunk, urban hero.

Mark Trail, 3/21/12

Stink Jacket saves the day.

— Uncle Lumpy

Post Content

Apartment 3-G, 3/20/12

Ah, spring is here — and while Margo thinks it will take a brainload of potent lady-hormones to light up pregnant-but-not-feeling-it Nina, poor naïve Tommie thinks sunshine and blue skies alone will do the trick. I can’t wait to hear Lu Ann weigh in with a prescription for moonbeam sandwiches and unicorn juice.

Curtis, 3/20/12

Say, when is Nina due, anyway — and how will her pregnancy play out in strip time? With multiple plotlines, Apartment 3-G can at least dip in and out of the Nina ‘n’ Scott story — Rex Morgan, M.D. would be all-Nina-all-the-time until delivery or catatonic ennui sets in, whichever comes first. Let’s just all be thankful this isn’t Judge Parker, where time moves so slowly that pregnancy is effectively permanent, or Funky Winkerbean, where it’s invariably fatal.

Wait, did you hear something? I think I drifted off there for a minute.

Crankshaft, 3/20/12

Alas, no hormone, season, or diet can bring relief to Pam and Jeff Murdoch. No sooner do they acquire another noisy trinket to distract themselves from the gaping hole in their lives than the ‘hole opens his damn mouth to ruin it all again.

Gasoline Alley, 3/20/12

Kindhearted nitwit Rufus celebrates the equinox watching nightmare TV while starving himself to feed his clowder of ingrate cats.

Crock, 3/20/12

But it could be worse — it could be Crock. You can carve that in stone.

Just watch your fingers.

— Uncle Lumpy