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Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/8/23

Look, Yvonne, either this guy has gone on a journey of personal self discovery that has resulted in the enshittification of his musical career and him dressing like a Secret Service agent for some reason or he and “Dr. Mirakle” are running a badly marketed scam to captive cruisegoers, or maybe Mud Mountain thinks it’s the first one but Dr. Mirakle knows it’s the second one, but whichever one it is, it’s gonna be pretty funny, so please let’s move forward and forget about the “Muddy Boots” thing, OK? I’m sure it’s on Spotify. Maybe ask some probing questions. What’s up with the sunglasses, for instance? Is he blind now? Did Dr. Mirakle order him to blind himself, as part of his ritual of transformation? Or is he just really hungover?

Mary Worth, 4/8/23

“Wow, we just started dating, so suddenly working together every day could be a lot … and you have literally no experience in the veternary field … and you’re clearly very comfortable letting things linger on painfully instead of putting them out of their misery, as evidenced by how long it took you to fully break up with Wilbur … sounds like you’re the pefect candidate! You start Monday bright and early. Hope you own some clean scrubs because the ones down at the clinic have a lot of dog blood on them.”

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Folks! One week from today, the Internet Read Aloud returns to the city of Los Angeles, with a very special guest: Washington Post columnist/Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me panelist/published author Alexandra Petri! Plus me, and some local favs! DO NOT MISS THIS SHOW if you are in the area, it will be very funny, plus it’s free, what do you have to lose???

Here is the Facebook event, if you wanna let Facebook know you’re coming!

Also? Your comment of the week? Is very funny!

“I’m more mystified by the decision to ramp up the coloring FX for this particular episode of Hägar the Horrible, as if to announce that the strip is transitioning from gag-a-day laffs into serious graphic-novel territory, and using mermaid sex as the load-bearing pillar with which to do it. Ichthyophilia and Götterdämmerung: The Lucky Eddie Story will be the talk of next year’s Eisner Awards. Admittedly, much of that talk will be the question ‘Why, WHY??’ and various forms of cursing, but that counts as talking.” –T Campbell

And your runners up are also very funny, too, as well!

“‘Shady’s nuts container’ — They’re called pants, Slylock.” –Liam

“The incompetent lawyer and his red headed wife talking at length about something that happened off camera last year. This strip became Judge Parker so slowly that nobody even noticed.” –Where’s Rocky

“Don’t take astronomical information from a kid who finally notices that the sun is coming at 10 am.” –Cindy

“‘A shopper’? What’s that about? Is his name Angus McFurball? Wilford Bramble? Corpulent Kitty? I need all the facts!” –Flipper

“Dagwood having to be told there’s leftover spaghetti is the most out of character thing in this strip’s history.” –Patrick Duke, on Twitter

“It’s hard not to feel bad for Daisy in this scenario. Normally Dagwood would build an enormous sandwich, scattering food everywhere that a dog could easily pick up, but he’s managed to get every bit of that spaghetti in the microwave. Daisy’s only hope is that he’ll drop it, which is highly unlikely since he’ll probably pour it straight off the plate into his mouth.” –Spunky The Wonder Squid

“Dennis has a red circle on his cheek indicating that he’s a child. Mrs. Wilson has a red circle on her cheek indicating she’s a woman. Mr. Wilson has a red circle on his nose indicating he’s a drunk. The Yokosuka MXY-7 Ohka suicide rocket rapidly approaching the house they’re in has a red circle on its wings, indicating that the Empire of Japan had one last hold-out pilot who really hates Dennis the Menace.” –Voshkod

Humor?! Not on Blondie’s watch!” –Dan

“I can’t help but think that Loretta wanted to spice things up in the bedroom. The flashlight was meant to be a Fleshlight, and I dare not speculate what the other items were meant to be and how they would be used. Suffice to say their real kink is spite, and all these items will be used.” –Philip

My therapist is great, Ed. She’s really helped me overcome my neediness and control issues. I’ve already set up an appointment for you.” –Merry Mirth

“Lucky Eddie is referring the the next level of evolution. Like the lungfish, the mermaid can already breathe air. She will venture onto land, burrow into muddy ground and encase herself in a mucous sheath that gradually hardens as she spends the dry season estivating. Hagar is correct that this will not be very rewarding for Eddie.” –Mantipath

“I’m not a psychologist but shutting all the lights save for one spotlight focused on Dennis might be somewhat enabling.” –Hibbleton

“The Mitchells’ entire circle of acquaintances is made up of dorky husbands and hot wives? Do they find these people on a special internet site?” –Ukulele Ike

“Only someone who lives in a huge suburban home would believe that the best way to deal with Chip’s clutter problem is by giving him more junk.” –BigTed

“This is a game changer for fans of this long-running strip, just in time for the centennial of Beau Geste next year. They have cell phones in Crock. The Lost Patrol apparently chooses to be lost since its members don’t want to use their cell phones. The brains behind the strip are now using it to remind us of the French invasion of Algeria in 1830, during the final days of Charles X’s rule, comparing that last Bourbon monarch to Macron. We’ve gone through the looking glass, people. Or cell phones could be forgotten and never referenced again in Crock. But for a moment a comic strip about the French Legion tried to be relevant.” –KMD

“At this point, we can agree that Crock is a subset of steampunk. Across the ocean in the same universe, Jay Gastby has a 4K television in an Art Deco casing and an electric Dusenberg with a touch screen. Ernest Hemingway is taking selfies of himself in Pamplona. And torrents are pirating Lady Chatterly’s Lover all around the world in a mocking of the censors.” –Tonio

“I think I’m going to spend the whole Easter holiday weekend working out what kind of engineer would show up at the Mitchell house in a name-tagged blazer and carrying a manilla folder, but also wearing loafers. Best I can come up with so far is genetic engineer, come to do his regular checkup on the secret government Super-Menace project.” –Schroduck

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Dennis the Menace, 4/7/23

Last month I speculated on Henry Mitchell’s career status, based on my half-memory that he might be an engineer, and readers pointed me in some intriguing directions. In the 1950s/60s TV show, Henry works for Trask Engineering; on the fan-maintained Dennis the Menace wiki, we’re told that he’s a “a workaday aerospace engineer,” whereas on actual Wikipedia it says he’s “a workaday teacher at Dennis’s school,” which is clearly wrong (also I am desperate to understand why “workaday” appears in both those descriptions but I think I need to apply for a research grant so I can fully analyze the situation). Anyway, I’m going to take the preponderance of evidence here and accept that he’s an engineer, which makes Dennis turning to this total stranger for engineering advice all the more menacing, though based on Henry’s sidelong glance I assume these two are coworkers and he’s basically saying “See? I told you what a moron he is.”

Hi and Lois, 4/6/23

When I was in high school, our debate team hosted a tournament one year, and I was in charge of getting the trophies, and the time spent tracking down a trophy store and picking out the design and getting the orders in really rearranged the way I think about accolades like this. You can just buy a trophy or a medal that says anything you want! They don’t necessarily mean anything! Still, I appreciate today’s Hi and Lois as a corrective to this attitude, as it shows that if you get into buying and handing out trophies as a bit, your loved ones will get sick of your shit almost immediately.

Crock, 4/6/23

OK, fine, usually just slipping “[LATEST TECH FAD]” into a sentence at random and claiming it’s a punchline is something that sends me spinning into a rage, but this one somehow loops around all the way into being funny again. Like I’m laughing just imagining some callow teens that exist entirely in a boomer’s imagination brought to the brink of starvation and sullenly gnawing on their phones. “I love phone,” the teens say, refusing to make direct eye contact with adults in a forthright and masculine way. “Phone good.”