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Celebrate two decades of quality comics mockery with a generous contribution!

Blondie, 9/10/24

Dagwood demands that the dietary preferences of the majority be enforced on all through the power of the State. Today I learned Dagwood is literally Hitler. And here I always thought it was that guy over in Marmaduke.

Between Friends, 9/10/24

Torn between the listless advances of her French boss Jean here and the ambiguous affections of her ex Steve back home, Slut Friend Maeve resolves to make something happen. This being Between Friends, it’s far more likely to involve shoes than sex.

Six Chix, 9/10/24

The next time you’re on deadline for a blog post, trust me you do not want to go Googling “What does Godzilla eat?” or “Do pigs have souls?” But if you’re ever in Decatur Indiana, make it a point to check out Soul Pig: it’s got four and a half stars on TripAdvisor! I’ve read all the Yelp reviews, and apparently their smoked ham is delicious! Now what was it I was supposed to be doing…?

Bizarro, 9/10/24

Airport Security: “Arbitrary, opaque bureaucratic intrusions or world-historical cruelty and oppression? Make up your mind, buddy, you’re holding up the line!”
Me: “I’m thinking, I’m thinking!”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/10/24

♭♪ “Sit on, Truck Tyler, sit on!” ♮♬

—Uncle Lumpy

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Click the banner to contribute by PayPal, or here for other options.

The twentieth anniversary Comics Curmudgeon Fall Fundraiser is here!

Celebrate two decades of the daily comics mockery we’ve come to know and love. Contribute in the way that best suits your preferences and lifestyle:

• Commenters can enjoy an ad-free online experience, a WYSIWYG comment editor, plus ten full minutes to fix that banned word, life-destroying revelation, or traceable personal information. Comes in handy, let me tell you! Become a Website Subscriber to The Comics Curmudgeon at the link.
• Busy professionals don’t always have time to browse the website, but live in fear of missing even a single day of professional-grade newspaper comics mockery. Get The Comics Curmudgeon delivered ad-free to your inbox every day, beneath the radar of corporate web filters and other such killjoys, under the pretense of checking your email. Sign on as a Newsletter Subscriber, and lighten up your workday.
• Patrons of the arts will enjoy the opportunity to support all of Josh’s comedic efforts, including The Comics Curmudgeon, with support through Josh’s Patreon page.
• Traditionalists give the old-fashioned way—PayPal! Click the banner upstairs to make a one-time contribution from your PayPal or credit-card account.
Now with AI, like everything else!
• Pluggers don’t much cotton to all this seamless, virtual, new-fangled nonsense. They send cash money in the mail, and we better by-gum like it! We do! Just request Josh’s address, where you can send cash, checks, gemstones, banned pharmaceuticals, live ruminants, and more. Short on funds? Hock your TV!
• Kids today embrace incomprehensible instant-payment applications like Venmo, which turn photos of speckled squares into financial support for cultural icon Josh Fruhlinger. Sound sketchy? Try it and see!
• Drive-by readers can help boost advertising revenues by turning off their ad-blockers selectively for this site, and occasionally clicking an ad that looks interesting. Every little bit helps!

Contributions in any form are always completely confidential and deeply appreciated.

Click here for an index of links to legacy Comics Curmudgeon fundraising banners stretching all the way back to 2008. And thank you, generous reader!

–Uncle Lumpy

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Dustin, 9/9/24

Deckhand on an Alaskan crab boat.
Choker setter for a logging crew.
Apprentice roofer.

C’mon, Dustin—get it over with.

Dick Tracy, 9/9/24

Sure, Ro-Zan is dangerous but Thorin, with his desperation at Moon Valley losing its atmosphere, known antipathy to Terrans, and blatant disregard for human rights, is no saint either—and he’s headed your way, Diet. Don’t forget, “the nation that controls magnetism will control the universe,” and said nation is emphatically not yours.

Hi and Lois, 9/9/24

Hi will both mash his thumb and pulverize the precious Oxy he’ll need for the pain. Ditto will tell him he can still snort it, but he has to pick out the plastic fragments first. Hi will ignore him—he’s in a hurry, dammit—and maybe he can hassle the E.R. docs for more Oxy to ease the pain from his nosebleed.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/9/24

Truck sits and ponders his answer: “Am I Truck Tyler? Used to be, kid; used to be ….”

—Uncle Lumpy