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Well, kids, as happens every year, I’m about to depart for my annual multi-city Christmas travelganza. I will start posting again on January 2, or thereabouts! But, as has become my wont, I have some fun things to share with you before I sign off for the year.

First up is an awesomely ambitious offering from faithful reader commodorejohn! You may have heard some of this comics-themed music before; now he’s completed an entire concept album called The Funnies, the cover art to which I dearly hope he doesn’t mind that I reproduce here:

With song titles like “Mary Worth Told Me To,” “Bösendorfer Bop,” and “Rockin’ The Armory (Recorded live at the Bucket, August 4th, 2009.)”, how could you go wrong? And it’s downloadable for free! What are you waiting for?

Also! I got a note from faithful reader Kattack about a recent trip she took to Monterey, California, where she encountered a playground dedicated to Dennis the Menace. Here she is, high-fiving and frolicking with the cartoon scamp in an extremely non-menacing fashion:

As is generally the case, the missing menace was provided by raccoons, who have decided to blanket the park with their delicious-looking feces:

“I actually made my whole family go out of their way to find this park once I saw it on a map because I knew you would appreciate it,” Kattack says. “The raccoon shit sign was just a bonus.”

Also! We’ve all been watching in mingled horror and fascination as the Pearls Before Swine characters have, with apparent success, agitated for Ziggy to start wearing pants. But what if things had gone … the other way? The Jumble’s Jeff Knurek dares to visualize it!

And finally! Faithful reader Susan sent me some pics of one of her delightful finds: a Mark Trail coloring book!

Wait, who’s this little blonde girl? A friend for Rusty? Ha ha, just kidding, it’s well known that Rusty has no friends.

What says “good, wholesome fun for kids” more than the severed heads of their favorite comics characters surrounding a personal message from Ronald Reagan’s Secretary of the Interior?

The most unsettling thing to me about this image is Mark and Rusty’s white hair. Kids, do you have an extremely black crayon? One that’s blacker than black? One that’s so black it appears to shine with its own dark, mysterious inner light?

Let me just step in here and say that you don’t own any of America, Rusty. It’s exactly this sort of commie “holding land in common” talk that led directly to Mark’s brutal assault on a duly appointed law enforcement officer.

And on that note, I leave you to your own holiday fun. See ya in 2010, everybody!

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Blondie, 12/23/09

As is sadly typical, the actual punchline in today’s Blondie is so gentle as to be essentially undetectable, but I confess that I like the visual gag. Generally, when the Bumsteads’ shop, they end up with packages ludicrously stacked in their arms in structurally improbable configurations. Today’s strip takes this to its logical conclusion, with a series of boxes just sort of floating in a cloud around Blondie, without any visible means of support.

Mark Trail, 12/23/09

OH YEAH MARK TRAIL JUST PUNCHED A COP RIGHT IN THE FUCKIN’ FACE! This is the greatest Christmas gift you or I or anyone else will receive this year. Note that the mighty blow has miraculously dislodged the car keys that Mark and the lawmen were discussing in the previous panel; Mark’s fists are unerring plot-device-seeking projectiles.

Hi and Lois, 12/23/09

Add another entry to the “call social services on the Flagstons” file: the apparently unsupervised Trixie is just eating garbage she finds under the furniture now.

Herb and Jamaal, 12/23/09

I’ve been reading this strip for going on five years now, and more or less against my will I’ve actually accumulated some knowledge about the title characters. For instance, here’s what I know about Jamaal: He’s a firefighter, he’s in love with his fellow firefighter Yolanda, his name is “Jamaal J. Jamaal,” and — a relevant detail about today’s installment — he’s a former professional basketball player. Since today he’s challenging his gnomish best friend to a game of one on one, I’m guessing I’m going to have to add “he’s a cruel bastard who needs to boost his fragile ego by demolishing poor Herb on the court” to that list.

Apartment 3-G, 12/23/09

“To be more specific: I hope you like them enough that you’ll let me trade these poinsettias I stole from the Macy’s window display for more sleeping pills!”

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Family Circus, 12/22/09

So why is Grandma smiling? It’s certainly not because Jeffy has opened his mouth and proven, once again, that he doesn’t have the brains God gave a bowling ball; she probably isn’t even marveling at the wonderful advantages that modern capitalism has over the primitive ointment- and precious-metal-based economic systems prevalent in Biblical times. No, I think she’s cracking a little grin because the drugs are finally kicking in. How else do you explain the fact that Jeffy is significantly tinier than PJ, a miniscule Jeffy-homunculus perched in the crook of her arm? He’s probably spouting his idiocy in a squeaky, comical little voice! “Soon,” she thinks, “he’ll be so little that I can just ignore him altogether!”

Mary Worth, 12/22/09

As noted yesterday, the drugs kicked in long ago in Mary Worth. I’m not sure where those hands on Dr. Jeff’s chest are coming from in panel one, but they certainly aren’t attached to Adrian’s arms — at least, they wouldn’t be in the three-dimensionally Euclidean space with which I’m familiar. But in Dr. Jeff’s hash-hazed mind, Adrian’s left shoulder can be behind him but her left hand in front of him. Why not? Time, space, location — all illusions, man! His expression in panel two is that of someone who’s going to describe this new world-theory to you in earnest and incoherent detail for about twenty or thirty seconds before wandering off to go lie down on something.

Mark Trail, 12/22/09

Oh, look, it’s Mark Trail, backwoods hypocrite. Normally he’s all “Those sideburns are the only search warrant I need” and “My fists may be cruel, but they’re not unusual.” But now that he’s the one thrown in jail, all he can talk about is “Wah wah wah rights of the accused wah wah wah” like a little liberal baby. You’re lucky this comical country lawman is so scrupulous about Constitutional provisions for due process, Mark — which you’re no doubt going to exploit, like the nature-terrorist you are.