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I know it seems like I’m metaposting up a storm here, but I have three important things that require your immediate attention.

• T Campbell is a one-man comics-themed empire and has a comics haiku site up.
• Comixpedia, the Webcomics wiki, is looking for a new home and new management! See this blog post for details!
• And finally … for everyone who’s been made to feel a little funny inside by Slylock Fox’s Cassandra Cat, for everyone who’s ever said, “Surely somewhere on the Internet there’s some Cassandra Cat porn” … well, this one’s for you. WARNING WARNING WARNING NOT SAFE FOR WORK OR YOUNG PEOPLE OR ANYONE ANYWHERE REALLY

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Beetle Bailey, 5/30/07

While I’m not a morning person and sympathize with Beetle’s attitude, I’m a little unnerved by the way he goes about expressing it. Specifically, who exactly is he ordering to “go away” and “leave me alone”? It seems that he’s so haunted by this world that he’s addressing existence generally, preferring the icy numbness of sleep or even death to consciousness. Alternately, since he is Trixie Flagston’s uncle, he may be railing against her buddy Sunbeam, hinting that this is a relationship that can go sour once you grow up.

Gil Thorp, 5/30/07

I had high hopes that crafty old Clambake was going to launch into a detailed treatise on just when and how you launch a beanball at a batter for maximum psychological impact. Instead, he appears to be giving young Elmer a “we black folks have it much harder than you Mexicans or whatever ever will so shut your yap whippersnapper” speech, which will inevitably result in either a soul-searching look at prejudice in a new, multiethnic America or an all-out race war, neither of which I’m interested in seeing in Gil Thorp, now or ever.

It’s nice to see the most personable and attractive Gil Thorp recurring character in panel three. I’m talking, of course, about the disembodied alien claw-thing perched on Elmer’s shoulder. It sure loves to sit on people’s shoulders, but it don’t mean no harm to nobody.

Hi and Lois, 5/30/07

I’d fling my food at my parents too if they tried to feed me that undifferentiated inky black goo. It’s like a bowl of finely minced despair.

Mary Worth, 5/30/07

Mary Worth is looking more skeletal and Nancy Reagan-esque than ever in panel two. I have no idea whose enormous hands those are flapping around in front of her, but they clearly aren’t hers. Perhaps they were once attached to her latest hapless victim, the remainder of whom is baking in a casserole dish back in her apartment, to be force-fed to Vera later this evening.

Slylock Fox, 5/30/07

I know it’s all part of the Great Cycle of Barnyard Life, but, like the duck in the pond, I am a little unnerved to see that fox’s last moment of happiness before the farmer beats him to death with that stick. I guess the lesson is: if you’re a fox and you like getting into other people’s business, get a cape and a deerstalker hat and learn to spout some deduction-y sounding bullshit. Otherwise, you’re fair game.

Ziggy, 5/30/07

Ha ha! Ziggy is going to die of smallpox, because he’s poor!

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I’ve been sitting on all kinds of random stuff for a while, and why not throw it all together in one big metapost of FUN?

OK, first thing’s first: Readers! Do you live in, or near, New York City, and/or will you be in New York City on the evening of June 22? If so, you will have your chance to see the world-famous Comics Curmudgeon (aka me) make an ass of himself his first foray into live comedy-style entertainment! I was invited by a faithful reader who’s also some sort of big-city entertainment impresario to participate in an event called ROFL! The deal is that I and seven other hilarious individuals will present and/or explicate to the audience hilarious material we find in the depths of the Internet. Our performances are pitted against one another until one emerges the ULTIMATE CHAMPION! Victors are determined by audience hooting, so obviously I need to pack the joint with my supporters. The event is at Joe’s Pub, which is at 425 Lafayette Street, between Astor Place and East 4th Street, in Manhattan. You can buy tickets online for $12 plus services charges, or just come directly to Joe’s Pub or the Public Theater and avoid said service charges. I will be pimping this again closer to the actual event, unless I hear that it’s sold out, in which case I will mock you suckers who didn’t buy your tickets in time, so you should probably get your tix now, and buy an extra one in case you fall in love sometime in the next three weeks.

Speaking of random sort-of-related-to-comics things I do, I recently managed to bring together the comics-loving and tech journalism sides of my soul by doing an audio interview with Ryan North, creator of the ever-awesome Dinosaur Comics. We talked about Project Wonderful, his new auction-based ad system, which appears on many comics-related Websites (this one among them). You can check out the interview at ITworld.com — either read the transcript or, if you’re interested in finding out just how pinched and nasal my voice is, listen to the audio.

Changing the subject entirely: Many of you are no doubt familiar with Alison Bechdel, the writer and artist behind the long-running and much-beloved underground Dykes To Watch Out For strip (note: contains occasional nudity), who found critical acclaim last year for her graphic novel memoir Fun Home. What you almost certainly don’t know, however, is that she’s a longtime Mark Trail aficionado. She sent me this parody from about 12 years ago featuring Mo, her DTWOF protagonist, as the Man Himself:

Good to see the basic formula hasn’t changed.

Speaking of comics that contain occasional nudity, I’ve been meaning for a while to direct your attention to The Fart Party, a Webcomic by Julia Wertz, just because I love it so.

Speaking of comics that we should all be glad do not contain occasional nudity … have you ever wanted to illustrate a bit of FBOFW foefic? Web comic superstar T Campbell, who writes for Penny and Aggie and a whole bunch of other stuff, is looking for an artist for a Foob-related thingie he’s got cooked up. If you’re interested, e-mail him.

I conclude with two random bits from readers. First, faithful reader Kevin illuminated the thought process of many in regards to Apartment 3-G:

And faithful reader Mooncattie brought his Margo!Boxcar!Saturn! mug to the heart of Foobness itself — Toronto city hall!

Oh, and, uh, in regards to self-clubbing Tyler: I’m going to have a winner picked out … real … soon now. Real soon. Hey, choosing the best one is h-a-a-ard, OK? I don’t like making decisions! WAAAAHHHH! [Further Mike Patterson-style whining.]