Post Content

Marvin, 11/11/17

Welp, just when I think Marvin can’t veer any further past “ha ha, it’s funny when babies make poopy” into straight-up scat fetishism, we get today’s strip. See, it’s funny because Marvin eats food, just straight up masticates and swallows it, and then his digestive system does its thing, leaching out all the nutrients and leaving behind a disgusting slurry of solid waste, which he extrudes out his anus — and, because he isn’t potty trained, all this feces just goes into his diaper, where he sits in it, until one of his parents decides to change him. It’s the circle of life! This is the punchline of a joke that runs in literal newspapers across the country.

Blondie, 11/11/17

On the other hand, today’s Blondie contains a minor miracle: a panel in which an old person’s mistaken idea of what a younger person might look like says “no prob” that somehow doesn’t lead to the protagonist seething with incandescent rage about the RUDENESS and CASUAL MANNER of the KIDS TODAY

Post Content

This week’s top comment: it’s here!

“‘That phase of his life is behind him, honey! He wants to be remembered for his art, not his mutation. You have to separate the work from the lizard. Why you gotta bring up old stuff.’ This was a well-timed plot, Spider-Man. Good job, thumb on the pulse.” –Dan

The runners-up: they’re also hilarious!

“Ha ha, it’s funny because even after three pretty clear clues, Dagwood still can’t figure out that it’s Daylight Savings, an event that has happened twice a year his entire life! That’s so … troubling, actually? Is his brain getting clogged up with bologna or something?” –pugfuggly

“Hello? Spidey Sense Consumer Hotline? Yes, I have some complaints.” –Joe Blevins

“Humans might be low in the social hierarchy, but nothing has changed for fish after the Animapocalypse. The new masters still need an underclass, it’s the cycle of revolution.” –Ettore

“The dog didn’t need color vision, or even smell, to identify the red ones. He just licked all of them. Because he’s a dog! Enjoy the rest of your jelly beans, Young Jeffrey.” –Peanut Gallery

“Look at all that white snow. I have never been so grateful for a colorist’s mistake.” –matt w

“I’m looking forward to the future Mary Worth where Iris and Zak meet up with Wilbur and Fabiana for a cordial, awkward dinner. I give it an hour and no more than 2 glasses of wine before the young hotties have locked themselves into the bathroom. Iris and Wilbur will have no recourse but to weep, listen to their exuberant lovemaking, and glumly masturbate.” –stepped pyramids

“You see, if he HAD changed the clocks, the time in the cartoon would be 1:43. 143 is the sum of seven consecutive primes (11 + 13 + 17 + 19 + 23 + 29 + 31). That, plus the fact that the person on the right is carrying a basket of laundry should make the hilarious subtext obvious. I mean, it’s all right there!” –grsblvnyk

“That stereotypical cowboy in Mark Trail looks devastated by his gun’s betrayal. He might walk in on his wife and his best friend in bed; his dog might turn on him; his horse might go lame; all these things he could accept with the quiet stoicism we expect from the stereotypical cowboy. But when a man’s gun up and stabs him in the back like that, well, that’s just too much. Unless there’s a bayonet involved. Then you expect a stabbing.” –Voshkod

“Obviously Mark Trail is trying to appeal to the millennials with that ‘glitch’ noise because the gun was created with a 3D printer. That’s what the kids do nowadays, right? Make things with 3D printers?” –tb4000

“When Iris asks, ‘Isn’t it kind of late for coffee?’, she is being sincerely curious. She’s dumb. But when Zak replies, ‘It’s never too late for coffee’, he really is talking about coffee because if Iris throws down the stupid, Zak rolls with it. They’re perfect for each other.” –Gabacho

“The PR guy gets into a taxi. Peter waves to an empty limo. Mary Jane is sick of the crowds on an otherwise deserted street. Next thing ya know, that phase of Dr. Connors’ life will be shown NOT to be behind him after all! Lies! It’s all LIES!” –Hogenmogen

“Zak leads an uncertain Iris into his apartment, closes the door, and turns the lights on, low. Smiling, he pulls not one, but two small foil packets out of his pants pocket, and murmurs into Iris’ ear, ‘Don’t worry, I come prepared!’ and with one quick motion rips open both single-cup servings of Sanka.” –Charterstoned

Dear Diary: Today, I’m finally going to convince Beetle to walk out into the void. If he makes it through the endless nothingness, maybe he can warn the government about General Halftrack’s cloning experiments. Beetle may be our only hope of stopping him.” –Super Luigi 64

Dear Diary: Next week I’m going to be walking with Beetle and Blips will remark that I always write about things that happen a week in advance. That’s it. That’s the extent of my powers. I can predict the future with 100% accuracy but I can’t alter it in any way. It’s a curse. Oh well!” –made of wince

Thanks to everyone who became a Comics Curmudgeon Supporter to get an banner-ad-free site, put some scratch in my tip jar, or backed me on Patreon!. If you would like to buy advertising on the Comics Curmudgeon, and get a text shoutout in these posts, get the details on my BuySellAds page.

About this Post

Comments are closed.

Post Content

Beetle Bailey, 11/10/17

Today definitely represents a high point in the 67-year-long failure to pass the Bechdel Test that is Beetle Bailey. The joke (“joke”) requires another woman with whom Private Blips can cattily gossip about Miss Buxley. Too bad there aren’t female characters available! Apparently it wasn’t considered realistic for her to be chatting with Mrs. Halftrack, Sgt. Lugg, or Sgt. Lugg’s cat [the following name came instantly to mind, despite my inability to remember, say, how old any of my nieces or nephews are] Bella, so the Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Industries LLC creative team just summoned a raven-haired doppelgänger out of the ether for her.

Gil Thorp, 11/10/17

Wow, Rick’s thousand-mile stare in the final panel is something. In an instant, he sees his life flickering ahead of him: his fame on message boards and Facebook groups frequented by elderly war vets will inevitably lead to a tour of VFW halls around the country, endless staring into seas of rheumy eyes as excited to hear patriotic ditties as they are suspicious of his shaggy-haired youthfulness. He’s going to be singing the national anthem a lot. Maybe “God Bless America,” too, if he’s feeling a little crazy. But he and Francis Scott Key are going to be locked in an intimate, suffocating embrace for years to come.