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Man, give Comics Curmudgeon readers access to one wacky Gil Thorp cartoon and about 36 hours, and you get an entire elaborate — and utterly hilarious — backstory for the “Rock and Roll Carole King.” Go back and read the comments on this post. I dare you not to giggle. I dare you.

Meanwhile, faithful reader Trotzenbonnie sent me some pics of her taking her Margo!Boxcar!Saturn! shirt out for a walk in he Big Easy. Here she is sucking down a mojito at Pat O’Brien’s…

…and here she’s showering herself with powdered sugar at Cafe Du Monde.

“My M!B!S! t-shirt was admired by several passers-by who all thought my name must be Margo,” she said. “I liked that.”

Also! I’ve linked to plenty of blogs that focus relentlessly on a single comic strip; in all that time, there’s been a gaping hole in that genre that at last has been filled. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Nobody Loves Rusty, for your all-Mark-Trail-all-the-time needs.

And finally, apparently every Webcomics artist is a secret FBOFW reader.

UPDATE: Will GailMania ever end? Probably! But to cash in on it before that happens, coming Monday there’ll be GAIL MARTIN CONCERT T-SHIRTS available from my CafePress store! The design is by faithful reader Dingo:

He says he’ll update it with more cities over the weekend, so post your suggestions in the comments.

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Hi and Lois, 7/13/07

The eldest Flagston child apparently hasn’t noticed that the background to the strip, which in Hi and Lois is usually rendered with a certain amount of detail, as if someone feels obligated to at least pretend to care, is completely absent today; Chip and his dad (and his dad’s disgustingly ancient chair and side table) are floating at random in a nightmarish vacuum of gleaming white nothingness. This indicates that their already fictional universe is becoming less and less detailed, leaving them with only a few concrete items and concepts to latch onto, one of which is apparently Chip’s job. So, the poor boy won’t just be flipping burgers for the rest of his life; in this existentialist blankness, he’ll be flipping burgers for the rest of eternity.

Beetle Bailey, 7/13/07

Not that I have a long history of drinking binges or anything, but in my experience they result in giddiness, a heightened and unjustified sense of competence and/or attractiveness (one’s own and others’), lapses in judgement, and loss of motor control and digestive stability. They do not, however, generate pleasant hallucinations. Still, it’s kind of heartrending and pathetic to see what General Halftrack’s perfect world is like. Apparently it involves sexy half-naked angels, birds, a gnome tending a pot of gold, and some kind of golf club rainbow (and I hope I don’t offend anyone here, but if your transcendent fantasies involve equipment that you can buy at Dick’s Sporting Goods, I pity the narrowness of your imagination).

Incidentally, does anyone want to explain what the deal is with Beetle Bailey and gnomes? In a way that won’t scar me for life?

Crankshaft, 7/13/07

I come before you today not to criticize Crankshaft’s hateful misanthropy, nor to comment on his awful punning, nor even to remark on the fucking smirks to which his entire family is prone. I seek only to express concern at their awful pallor. Seriously, they look like death warmed over. Was this particular shade of off-flesh intended for Funky Winkerbean and accidentally misrouted? Or is Crankshaft going to one-up zombie strips written by the sons and nephews of the original creators and become a strip that’s literally about zombies?

Sally Forth, 7/13/07

This actually made me laugh aloud this morning. Ted says it hurt, but look at his eyes. You can tell that he stopped feeling pain — or feeling anything at all, really — about three weeks ago.

Hey! Remember how a little band called the Quarrymen eventually changed their name to the Beatles? Well, New Delhi Monkey Gang (that would be Hil and Faye) are looking for a similar shift in fortunes to go with a new moniker. Head over to Ces’s blog to help him pick a new name. I’m pushing heavily for “Teenage Girl President.” I’m also pushing for Faye to get a new guitar that isn’t so hideously green.

Pluggers, 7/13/07

Pluggers are awful damn cheerful, considering how close they are to all that manure.

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Pluggers and Slylock Fox, 7/12/07

Pluggers are xenophobes. Hungry, hungry xenophobes.

I feel like there must be something of this dynamic going on in today’s Slylock Fox six differences, too. Why does Buzzy McFlatop harbor such simmering resentment towards the pizza delivery fellow? Presumably he rages inwardly because his children can’t get enough of that ethnic food imported to this great country by unwashed papist immigrants from the filthy Mediterranean countries. If only he could get decent, wholesome American fare delivered, like … um … venison? Turkey? I’m kind of at a loss.

Gil Thorp, 7/12/07

YEAH, BABY, I’M DIGGING MY GIL THORP SUMMER OF TOTAL INSANITY! Why won’t she give you a little kiss? Maybe it’s because she doesn’t feel like smooching the smooth, featureless skin on the front of your head, you no-faced freak. Fortunately, Walter Cronkite is here to come at you at a spatially baffling angle and smack you right in the spot where your mouth should be.

Blondie, 7/12/07

“Also, the front and the back are entirely different colors. Trust me, it’s all the rage this year. The Japanese have been wasting their time on lowering gas mileage, but Detroit’s been investing in the two-tone look.”

Mary Worth, 7/12/07

“Or, to put it another way, what can I do to you … with my penis? Wait, did I say that last part out loud?”