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Ziggy, 2/29/08

Sometimes, it’s important remember that we all have a huge, aching hole inside of us, a hole of hate and despair and pain and loss. What can fill that hole? Love, of course! Except that nobody loves us. So, we’ve got to go with the next best thing: food. Food is almost like love, except in the sense that if you absorb enough of it, you’ll probably throw up. But still, you keep eating those milkshakes that are literally larger than your head, Ziggy. Because maybe this time it’ll make you feel better. Maybe this time.

Shoe, 2/29/08

Ha! It’s funny because the only thing he hates more than his wife is talking to his wife! Thankfully he’s in a bar with Shoe, where his wife can’t possibly go, because she’s a lady. Don’t worry, fella: Tasty brown liquor doesn’t expect you to hold up a conversation!

Apartment 3-G, 2/29/08

Man, how much smack is running with Alan’s veins right now? Just saying his name make Lu Ann look all heavy-lidded and blissed up. “I can’t wait to tell Alan … Alan … so nice … Alan … [falls out].”

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Apartment 3-G, 2/28/08

Good lord, is there anything more divine than imagining a timid and baffled Lu Ann on some sort of weird A3G approximation of The View? I can just see her shrinking with embarassment further and further down into her seat as Whoopi Goldberg and Elisabeth Hasselback scream at each other about the merits of modern art or something. Then Margo would burst onto the set, slap Whoopi and Elisabeth, and, eyes flashing with fire, bellow “This interview is over!” at Barbara Walters. Next, taking off one shoe, she’d…

…OK, I’m officially a little too excited by this scenario.

Gil Thorp, 2/28/08

The sad Tale of Andrew The Abandoned Boy continues, with the A-Train forced to boil things for his little siblings while his father heroically protects U.S. State Department officials with Blackwater. Today, I’m mostly troubled by whatever the hell is going on under the narration box in panel two. It looks like Andrew is programming some sort of 1950s-era computer, complete with a slot for a punch card. Perhaps the artist thinks that once a check is “direct-deposited,” one can extract the money from ENIAC?

Site note: I’ve finally done something I should have done years ago: I created a privacy policy for the site. Take a look, won’t you? (Update: I just made a few quite minor tweaks thanks to suggestions, including adding details about PayPal.)

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Family Circus and Marvin, 2/27/08

Marvin and the Family Circus have apparently decided to keep hammering home these appalling running gags until we beg for mercy. Well, I’m officially begging. Please stop. Please?

Of today’s entries, I find the Family Circus more baffling and disturbing. It seems fairly unlikely that any normal child — or even a Keane Kid — would have the slightest interest in CNN’s resident deranged, babbling 97-year-old talk show host, or even the vaguest idea as to who he is. There’s also something unsettling about the sight of anyone — even a snowman — wearing suspenders but no pants; in particular, the fact that they seem to be affixed to his naked hips implies some kind of kinky piercing situation that believe me, you don’t want to contemplate really at all but especially in terms of Larry King.

Meanwhile, Marvin’s ongoing “Belly Laffs” horror has made the subtle shift from “You know you’re pregnant when you occupy more volume than usual” to “You know you’re pregnant when your mass increases.”

Funky Winkerbean, 2/27/08

“You know what else is expanding rather aggressively? The angle of my legs! Check out Funky’s Winkerbean, baby. You know you want it.”

Apartment 3-G, 2/27/08

By coincidence, Margo’s dialog in panel three is also pretty much the sum total of her foreplay techniques.