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Shoe, 9/18/18

OK, so, see, if Roz’s boyfriend collected trash, “The Garbageman” wouldn’t be a nickname; it would be a straightforward description of his job. Like “garbagemen” is definitely a word we use to describe sanitation workers, in American English! Though I guess I’m assuming Shoe is using “collecting” here in the professional sense. Maybe he thinks Roz is dating a hoarder, and is trying to be as cruel to her as possible about it! Jokes on him, it seems: in fact, she’s dating one of his fellow newspapermen — and one who doesn’t believe in the pious niceties of bourgeois, “respectable” journalism! Those are some well earned goggle eyes of horror.

Slylock Fox, 9/18/18

So dad is wearing … hairpants? Like a hairshirt, but pants? Isn’t parenting a child who he obviously holds in contempt self-punishment enough?

Gil Thorp, 9/18/18

Ugh, once again football season gets underway without the annual bonfire, a tradition that dates at least back to 2007 but seems to have abruptly ended after the 2015 season. I for one would’ve loved an entire wacky summer storyline about how the school board’s insurance company finally broke it to the athletic department that giant bonfires are incredibly dangerous and they can’t have them anymore, because it would’ve given Gil a chance to be hilariously indignant, would’ve probably ended in some laughable compromise, and would’ve at least acknowledged that this annual tradition stopped happening for some reason. There’s a slim chance that we’ll get a true bonfire before the first home game, but until then I’m going console myself that the jagged white shapes in the background of panel two are billowing waves of smoke rising into the sky from Milford itself, miles away from Oakwood and in the process of being burned to the ground in an orgy of Mudlark-supporting.

Spider-Man, 9/18/18

Ha ha! They were holograms all along! Just like we all figured! The old hologram trick! A classic bit.

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Gil Thorp, 9/17/18

More often than not Gil Thorp will follow a couple, sometimes interrelated, plots over the course of a sports season, and it looks like we’re getting two football plots this year: whatever the heck’s going on with Tiki Jansen, and some long snapper drama. Special teams are the goofiest part of football, so I’m extremely excited to see them get the spotlight in Gil Thorp this year. It seems that the long snapper is also the best punter, and for those of you who don’t follow football, this is a problem because the punter is the person the long snapper hurls the ball to, in the graceful position demonstrated in panel one. My sincere hope is that this dilemma is solved using cloning, or possibly time travel.

Mary Worth, 9/17/18

“Mr. Wynter, I just wanted to see how you were coping after your tragic loss. I know what it’s like to lose someone dear myself! In my case that someone was my husband, a human being, who some might say is a little more worthy of grief than a mere animal, but I won’t comment on that one way or another. Also, my husband left me a good deal of money after his demise, ensuring my financial stability. Did your dog leave you any money? At any rate, I hope this can of processed salmon is of comfort to you!” [she gently lobs the can of salmon at Mr. Wynter; he fails to catch it and it hits him square in the face]

Family Circus, 9/17/18

I was briefly thinking that at least one of Dolly’s grandmas was dead and only seen in the strip in ghost form. I was wrong, of course — it’s her maternal grandfather I’m thinking of — but wouldn’t it be funny if I was right, and Dolly was beseeching God to keep the heat turned up on her grandmother’s damned soul, in hell? Anyway, long story short, I’m a bad person.

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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 9/16/18

Wait, which real world are we talking about here? A real world where a child wearing a coonskin cap and suspenders walks home from a clapboard one-room schoolhouse along the edge of a cliff? In this faux-hillbilly dreamscape, it’s actually more likely that the local education system would assess its charges’ skills in cartoonishly rustic pursuits rather than traditional academic subjects, to be honest.

Six Chix, 9/16/8

Not sure exactly what’s going on here: has the guard spent all day telling museum patrons to back away from the art, and now he’s urging these two to back away from the most glorious piece of art: the human form? Or is there, like, an epidemic of art museum sex going on that I’m not aware of?