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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 7/9/10 and (panels) 7/11/10

I have to admit to having been scandalized by Friday’s Snuffy Smith, in which a local young woman casually admits that her paramour has left her to enter into a polygamous relationship with sisters. What could be the cause of this attack on traditional values in Hootin’ Holler? Could the male population have been so reduced in number by moonshine still explosions that the women have to share them? The throwaway panels, in which another local admits to fathering more than a dozen children with who knows how many women, points in the same direction. It’s also possible that some multinational chemical conglomerate is using whatever fetid lake serves as Hootin’ Holler’s water supply as a illicit disposal site, with the noxious substances causing a freakish increase in the libido of the male inhabitants.

Panels from Apartment 3-G, 7/11/10

Was this all that Tommie ever wanted — shared humiliation? She knows that her own world of sadness will never end, but now that Lu Ann and especially Margo have been dragged down with her, she allows a brief smile to cross her face.

Hey, everybody, do you know what today is? It’s the sixth anniversary of the beginning of this blog, which in Internet years is several lifetimes! Look back in wonder at my first-ever post, in which I talk about Non Sequitur (something I would almost never did again) and break my own (later-instituted) Don’t Talk About Mallard Fillmore Rule right in the title. I think I have come a long way in my writing skills and comics appreciation in the 2,400+ posts that have followed, and both my skills and my appreciation have been honed by the 369,000+ comments that readers have added to the site. Thanks to all of you, whether you’ve been reading for six years or six days — it’s only knowing that so many of you enjoy the site that keeps me doing it. And don’t worry, I plan to carry on until the Internet is replaced by something even more irritating and time-sucking.

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Apartment 3-G, 7/10/10

OMG YOU GUYS TRIPLE MAKEOVER! At long last, the A3G girls will be returned to their sexy, sexy glory days, after they are transformed into such visions of fashion-forwardness as … uh, Kat and Kitty here.

Seriously, this would actually be a pretty intriguing way to transition to a new artist, one with a sexier, more modern style. But I can’t find any information about such a shift of personnel online. Surely King Features would at least put a press release out about it, right? Or just hand-deliver it to me, since my blog is probably the only “media outlet” that would care?

Funky Winkerbean, 7/10/10

Aw, it looks like Funky isn’t dead or traveling through time to harass his younger self after all, just hallucinating from the agony of his body being shattered in a car wreck. “You’re going to be okay, buddy,” the paramedic says, knowing that in Westview, having your deluded mind living out fantasies within your mangled physical form is as “okay” as it gets.

Slylock Fox, 7/10/10

I’m a non-driver and a firm advocate for public transit, but even I will admit that taking the bus reduces’s one’s pimp-cred considerably.

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Blondie, 7/9/10

I imagine that the guy who draws Blondie gets tired of hearing about the strip’s title character’s unusually large and shapely bosom, both from the “oh God it’s hot it makes me so hot” camp and the “you’re a pervert creating unrealistic body images” camp. Look, can’t a guy draw a dame who’s stacked without getting an earful about it? I’d like to think that today’s strip is supposed to be some kind of response. You want to see a broad with big cans? Check this one out! She’s a freak of nature! A biological impossibility! I guess she’s supposed to be heavy-set — thus the wacky food-obsession banter — but with her relatively svelte legs, she just looks top-heavy, like she’s going to tip over in one direction or the other at any minute.

Funky Winkerbean, 7/9/10

“BPH,” for those not in the know, is benign prostatic hyperplasia — basically an enlarged prostate, which makes it hard for Funky to pee. So, you know, Funky is either experiencing a bizarre time-travel phenomenon or an intense, lucid dream, and after about twenty minutes it’s all come back to physical discomfort and potentially cancerous body parts. He can’t even contemplate that tiny cup of refreshing water without thinking of the hours of agony he’ll be spending in front of the urinal later. Might as well make sure his past self is good and glum too, while he’s at it!

Lockhorns, 7/9/10

Leroy’s carpool apparently reacted to his “practical joke” by beating the crap out of him. Or perhaps it was a reaction to his unpleasant personality.