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Sally Forth, 6/13/05

Jesus, look at Sally and Ted’s eyes! It looks like they spent the better part of the previous evening taking turns hitting each other in the face with a brick. If you want more proof of the Sally Forth-industrial complex’s horror of day jobs, you need look no further than the bleak, puffy morning faces of our two-income couple.

Speaking of day jobs, seeing Ted in a tie makes me wonder: does anyone know what exactly Mr. Forth does for a living? Other than sit around and try to think of comebacks to Sally’s witticisms, I mean.

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Curtis, 6/12/05

We’ve of course seen plenty of egregiously unhip fake “rapper” names used in Curtis, but I believe this is the first instance of egregiously unhip fake “rap” lyrics. Let’s take a moment to savor them, shall we?

Den ah snuffed ‘im!
I snuffed ‘im! Woo!
He looked at me wrong,
so ah snuffed ‘im!

Yeah! Woo! I put quotation marks around “rap,” of course, as an homage to Curtis’ tendency to put quotation marks around “rap,” along with almost anything else, including, in this strip, “complaints” and “Bullet-Wound’s” (and what’s with the hyphen? Is he an 18th century rapper or something?). Bizarrely, the word “spanker” in panel four is left unquoted.

The question that really gets me in this strip, though, is: how old is Barry supposed to be, anyway? I mean, Curtis may be about three years too young to be listening to the ultraviolent stylings of Bullet-Wound and Fortyounce and what have you, but I have Barry pegged at about three years too old to be shouting “yay” at the choo-choos and the teddy bear town and all that sugary crap. And incidentally, the top two panels of this strip were cut off by my paper, so I was severely traumatized when I downloaded this strip and actually saw Charlie Chipmunk in the flesh. If I had a little brother who insisted on watching this, I might have a very strong urge to, well, snuff ‘im.

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Family Circus, 6/11/05

This is the sort of trash you’re going to encounter if you insist on bringing your precious little angel onto public transportation instead of safely strapping her into her car seat in the back of your SUV as you shuttle her from strip mall to strip mall in your pristine, tattooed-hippie-free suburb. I mean, look at this guy! The tattoos are bad enough, of course, but check out the mushy red worker’s cap — he’s probably in the Wobblies or something. And his hair would almost be long enough to touch his collar — if he had a collar, which he doesn’t. Freak.

Why are Mommy and Dolly on the bus with all the ghetto puds, anyway? And why is Dolly wearing that weirdly matronly dress? Maybe Daddy got drunk and obnoxious one time too many, and Mommy grabbed her only girl-child, wrapped her up in the first thing she could find, and headed to the Greyhound station looking for a new life. Why, Mr. Magic Markers could be her new best friend! I bet he’d learn little miss mouthy some manners real quick.