Post Content

Mary Worth, 9/19/09

Some cops slip a spare gun in their boot for extra protection. Jason of the Argonauts lashed a Gorgon’s head to his shield and turned adversaries to stone. Confusing the two, Detective Scott paralyzes his foot.

Crankshaft, 9/19/09

Crankshaft‘s old-timey photo reminds us: generations come and go; only pain and loss endure. After that fateful game, Grimace abandoned his dead-end mascot career and opened discussions with McDonald’s.

The Phantom, 9/19/09

Long into the night, Chatu stares at his pinups and spins elaborate, violent fantasies. Not so special after all, are ya, pal?

And in other news:

Rhymes with Orange, 9/19/09

Hey lady — pills for that now, they have!

9 Chickweed Lane, 9/19/09

Juliette Burber, who bullies insecure college students and trustees, chides her mother for bullying a sales clerk. Next: Edda kicks a Cub Scout!

Hey, Josh is off for the week — if you have any trouble with the site, etc., reach me at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net. You can still reach Josh at bio@jfruh.com, but expect a wait.

Uncle Lumpy

Post Content

Beetle Bailey, 9/18/09

Wow, I’m not sure who reeks of desperation more here: Sgt. Snorkel, wandering despondently around Camp Swampy in the middle of the night because he can’t be with his true love Beetle, or Sgt. Lugg, who has given up on having Sarge acknowledge any kind of affection for her and is now just offering no-strings-attached sex. Sarge is sad and lonely enough to take her up on it, but obviously he needs to get himself good and drunk first.

Blondie, 9/18/09

I’m a 35-year-old who spends much of his time writing a blog about Mary Worth and Apartment 3-G, so obviously I’m not “hip” and “with it” when it comes to the kids today, but: really? I always thought of Crocs as being dorky and suburban, not the sort of thing the kids would use to drive teachers crazy and “push the buttons” of anyone in authority. (Thanks for using the quote marks there, Blondie, as otherwise I would have assumed that some literal button-pushing was going on.) I suppose upon reflection that Crocs have all the necessary attributes for being a punk rock accessory, seeing as they’re both ugly and uncomfortable.

Hi and Lois, 9/18/09

Speaking of punk rock, here’s one of those scary, crazy, anything-goes Webcomics artists! Man, they’re a bunch of angry radicals, aren’t they! And why wouldn’t they be, with their failure to make as much money as the 50 or so widely syndicated newspaper comics artists? Don’t worry, my pink-haired friend; someday your son will be smugly paying gag writers to churn out daily installments of the strip you created before heading out to the golf course, right up to the point when the medium in which its published goes bankrupt.

Family Circus, 9/18/09

“I’m diggin’ up all the pets we buried and piecing together bits of their corpses to make a Frankenstein animal monster! Should I reanimate the dead matter using dark magic or perverted science?”

Ziggy, 9/18/09

Ziggy thinks that his parrot should know something about Quetzalcoatl, the fearsome flying snake god of the Aztecs! That’s because Ziggy experienced a psychotic break from reality, many years ago.

Speaking of breaks, psychotic and otherwise … I’m takin’ the next week off! But don’t worry, your favorite Uncle Lumpy will be here to amuse you. See you next Saturday!

Post Content

Family Circus, 9/17/09

Grandma knows that she’ll only be given time to tend to her methodical clothes-folding in peace if she manages to say something so confusing to whatever idiot grandchild is jabbering at her that they’ll wander off in despair. Fortunately for her, her grandchildren are very easy to confuse.

Funky Winkerbean, 9/17/09

Ah, yes, why not just have the text push out the boring pictures entirely from here on in, so we can sit back and enjoy panel after panel of self-justification?

Luann, 9/17/09

The inside of Brad’s head is even more troubled than I could have imagined. For one thing, he apparently believes his parents’ marriage to be a loveless sham.

Gil Thorp, 9/17/09

Say what you will about Marty Moon, but you can never doubt his total commitment to his job. Today, for instance, he bravely continues his play-by-play of the Milford football season opener, despite the fact that he’s clearly been abducted and sealed up in a wooden shipping crate.