Let’s end the week with a BANG, y’all … a bang delivered by this week’s top comment:
“On the ominous orphanage name scale, ‘Ms. Asthma’s Orphan Asylum’ ranks somewhere between ‘St. Jerome’s Home for the Unfortunates’ and ‘The Misery Street Orphanage (Malfecia Harridan, directress).’” –TheDiva
“I’m curious about the actual ritual elements in Blondie. Like there is nothing in Herb’s appearance to suggest why he suddenly shouts AUGH so I assume that is part of it, and maybe it’s significant that we never actually see a tool change hands. Most of all, though, I wonder why he first says ‘pleez’ and then ‘please’. Can you even tell those apart verbally, or does this imply there is a written text they are following? There’s a lot happening in this annual tradition that we have somehow never seen before.” –pachoo
“Not having any context or anything, I love how chill everyone in today’s Gil Thorp is being. ‘Sorry I’m late, my son committed a pretty serious crime. Not slap-on-the-wrist stuff, the kind of thing they really take you down for.’ ‘No worries Gil, the important thing is that you’re here for what really matters: Sports.’” –Dan
“That look on the old cowboy’s face tells me there are runaway teens buried in the desert who had their organs harvested. But that’s just what Jeff Bez… Oh, sorry, ‘The Arizona Kid’ (wink, wink) does to prolong his life.” –Tabby Lavalamp
“God, just look at Sarge’s face in the last panel: that is definitely a man discovering a fetish.” –pugfuggly
“Snuffy, I think you might have a better chance arguing that this court is not legitimate because the American flag is just a blue blanket with red patches sewn on it.” –Old Man Shadow
“And where better to connect than Connecticut? I mean, it’s right there in the name!” –Pozzo
“‘I’m flying to Connecticut on SUNDAY.’ Well, HERE’s a conflict! How will Mary work Dawn’s trip into her annual Easter tribute? Oh, wait, I found it: ‘Dawn and resurrection are synonymous. The reappearance of the light is the same as the survival of the soul.’ –Victor Hugo” –Charterstoned
“The son taking initiative to reduce the amount of time he spends with the father? This is going to require an extensive ‘Cat’s in the Cradle’ rewrite.” –I’m Not Cthulhu, But I Play Him On TV
“Note how Dawn’s abrupt decision to fly alone cross-country to see her estranged mother came immediately after she started eating a muffin. If she’s gone too long without a good meddle, Mary doses her cupcakes with a mixture of stimulants, hallucinogens, and inhibition removers and hands them out to neighbors, just so she has something to do.” –Schroduck
“Tobias Gordon is one of the best because when he passes the ball it sounds like SWOOSH, normally a sound you’d associate with making a basket.” –taig
“Dawn has been attending the local university since at least 2007, so the university is more than happy to get her off the books and stop her from ruining their US News & World Report rankings, which include the average length of time for students to graduate into consideration. Maybe she will get back to her studies in medicine in Connecticut and become Yale’s problem.” –Philip
“Literally ‘ran into.’ With a car. I need to get out of this town … at least for a while!” –Handsome Harry Backstayge, Idol of a Million Other Women
“Of course, if you don’t want the sun to die, you need to feed it a steady diet of human sacrifices. But it’s no longer PC, I’m told!” –Ettorre
“After years of hard work and achieving degrees in solar astrophysics, Doctor Trixie Flagston took a deep breath of the rarified air atop Mauna Loa. From her vantage, she could see the entire island, from the smoking craters of Kīlauea to the buildings of Hilo and Kona. Off to the east, nothing but ocean all the way to Oregon. To the west, the Hawai’ian chain like a necklace cast into the sea. And above, her prey and her love. She was already two miles closer than she’d been yesterday, here on the volcanic peak. Time to get closer. She brought the Coronal Multi-channel Polarimeter into focus and saw its face, so clear and so near and so dear. ‘Never again, my sweet, do you get to hide anything from me,’ she whispered.” –Voshkod
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