Saturday, December 31, 2016
Hopefully Heathcliff Never Has a Stroke
Heathcliff
I hope the city makes a New Year's Resolution to finally bring the Garbage Ape back to the zoo. I don't care how many snazzy bowties he has, he doesn't need to be running amok.
Mary Worth
What the hell is a dress-up concert? Like an orchestra or Mostly Mozart? Did you go to concerts like that when you were 25, Iris? I highly doubt it so why would Zak and his friends?
Arlo and Janis
ARLO HAS A DIAPER FETISH!! HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!!
The Underfold, 12/31/2010
Friday, December 30, 2016
Confusing Comics
Dennis the Menace
What? Do rabbits and doves come out of your Mom's purse?
Hi and Lois
Since when does Chip listen to his mom? Why does she look stunned? Because he has popcorn with him or because he has healthy popcorn with him?
Heathcliff
but y tho...?
panels from Slylock Fox and Comics For Kids
Okay, we're going to learn how to draw a cow.
That's inappropriate, Bob Weber, Jr.
Thursday, December 29, 2016
One-Panel Thursday
Ziggy
I see where this is going. Ziggy is going to try to make money by having the purse audition for a variety show. Unfortunately, the purse won't perform when anyone else is around so Ziggy just comes off as crazy and ends up losing all his money when he decides to just open his own theater featuring a singing and dancing purse.
Marmaduke
"Where's Dad?"
Family Circus
Damn you, 2016. DAMN YOU!!!
2016 is almost over. A lot of people have gone on the record saying that 2016 has been the worst year in a long time. Statements like that are relative. I feel like my worst years are a tie between 1994 and 2007. In relation to the celebrities, there is no evidence that this is a bad year for celebrities but I think a lot assume that because of the caliber of celebrities passing away. David Bowie, Alan Rickman, Prince, Patty Duke, Carrie Fisher, Debbie Reynolds, among many others are A-list stars. Aside from the name recognition, the celebrities we, as Millennials or Gen-Xers, grew up with are entering their 60s, 70s, and even 80s. 2017 may be just as hard on our favorites as 2016, and 2018 may be worse. If you have a favorite celebrity who falls into this category, maybe write them a fan letter, email, Facebook post or tweet and let them know how positively they impacted your life.
Wednesday, December 28, 2016
Are We Just Going To See Underwater Whale Images All Week?
Mark Trail
Are Mark and Abbey going to say that the ants caused the volcano to erupt because that's not how that works. They don't even have proof of the ants. No one took any pictures and the island is now scattered all over the Pacific Ocean.
Funky Winkerbean
That sounds awesome. I plan on doing the same thing when I retire.
Dennis the Menace
Cock-blocking is some tip-top menacing. I approve.
Tuesday, December 27, 2016
Limp Bizkit Would Also Be Good
Hi and Lois
Time for some commentary on the shrinking state of our comic strips. When you click to zoom in on these strips, they take up almost half the page and every detail is noticeable. The strips on my site and in some newspapers are seen vastly smaller and in the case of newspapers, black and white so you can imagine my surprise when, reading the smaller thumbnail version of today's Hi and Lois on the Comics Kingdom website, I saw what appeared to be a body with no head.
That other garbage man doesn't get clearer the more you stare at him. Can you imagine seeing that ill-defined mess of lines even smaller than this and in black and white?
Funky Winkerbean
"We are 99% sure that this videotape contains the exact moment Bull got his CTE. Let's giver her a watch."
I'd have the same look on my face too. "How do you propose we watch that? I haven't owned a VCR since 2007."
Mary Worth
Please be the Jerky Boys...
Please be the Jerky Boys...
Please be the Jerky Boys...
Sally Forth
From what I can tell, no one is wearing red party cups but instead white party cups with little blue and red stripes on them. I guess the daily colorist was afraid of the wrath King Features might have ensued from the owner of the Solo Cup Company, the Dart Corporation.
Monday, December 26, 2016
Post-Christmas Quickie
Dennis the Menace
Why is Margaret looking at Ruff in that creepy way?
The Born Loser
No, I'm pretty sure I gave him a list of orders.
Blondie
What the hell kind of video game is that? Wait. Is that...? Is that a Tiger Electronic Handheld Game?!!
Sunday, December 25, 2016
Bobbo #2
Monday. Max went through the lunch line, sneering at what was available for lunch. Some sort of chicken nugget chunk with mixed vegetables and applesauce. At the end of the food line, he saw boxed-up pieces of pizza from a pizza chain. “Oh, thank you Lunch Jesus,” Max looked up and grabbed two boxes and sat them on his tray. He grabbed a carton of chocolate milk and sat down with Bobbo and Brooke.
“Pizza?” Bobbo questioned.
“Isn’t that leftover pizza from Friday?” Brooke asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Max moaned, shoving a piece in his mouth. “I would rather eat month old pizza than those gruel nuggets or those wax vegetables they ran under hot water.”
Tuesday. Max sat down with Bobbo and Brooke. He had nothing on his tray but a cinnamon puff and chocolate milk.
“No lunch?” Brooke asked.
“No pizza,” Max mumbled. “And I don’t like tomato soup.”
“It’s chili,” Bobbo said.
“It’s tomato soup. With beans,” Max exclaimed.
Wednesday. Bobbo and Brooke sat down with Max who had a box of pizza in front of him. Next to him, he had a carton of chocolate milk.
“Bring your lunch?” Bobbo asked.
“Oh, yeah. And it’s much better and filling than whatever those breadsticks are trying to do.”
“They’re Italian dunkers,” Brooke pointed out the liquidy meat and marinara sauce in a plastic cup.
“They’re garbage,” Max protested, chewing his pizza.
Thursday. Bobbo and Brooke sat down with Max who had just a carton of chocolate milk. “Max? What’s wrong? You’re shaking,” Bobbo asked, concerned.
“No pizza. Nothing to eat,” Max lamented.
Bobbo looked down at his tray with baked ziti, roasted vegetables, broccoli, and fruit snacks. “Max, there’s baked ziti tod…”
Brooke interrupted him. “Don’t even try.”
Friday. Max sat down with Bobbo and Brooke. He had three pieces of the rectangular pizza on his tray along with some salad, carrots, and a cinnamon roll, along with his chocolate milk.
“Three?” Bobbo questioned.
“The lunch ladies and I have an understanding,” Max said.
“You have a problem, Max,” Brooke said. “You’re going to turn into a pizza someday.”
“That sounds delicious,” Max salivated.
In U.S. History, Mr. Fletcher had put on a movie about a white guy living with Native Americans and fell asleep behind his desk. Max had also fallen asleep and even slept through the dismissal bell.
“Max, come on. We need to get to science,” Bobbo shook Max awake.
Bobbo and Max arrived in the science classroom and sat at their desks. Ms. Hinck, a short and chubby woman, raised her hand to get the student’s attention and began talking. “Okay, class, I promised you something neat today. We’re going to look at gamma radiation,” she said, and pulled a giant futuristic-looking gun out from behind her desk. The kids exclaimed in awe. “Now, everyone look at that potato I have sitting on that stand. I’m going to shoot some gamma radiation at it. Watch what happens.”
Ms. Hinck pulled the trigger and a beam of radiation came out and hit the potato. Within seconds, it was cooked and soon exploded. The kids exclaimed in delight again.
“Who wants to try it?” Ms. Hinck asked. Several kids’ hands shot up. “Trent, come on up.” Trent snickered and walked up to Ms. Hinck. She handed him to the gamma ray gun. “You can shoot it at one thing that’s not another student.”
“Aw, man. You’re safe today, Bobbo,” Trent scoffed. He looked around the room and saw a mirror hanging over the sink. He aimed and shot. The radiation hit the mirror, bounced off, and hit Max in the back.
“Naargh!” Max exclaimed and shuddered in his desk. “I feel weird.” Max began growing, getting to twice his height but he also grew pepperoni and his skin became a mixture of crust and cheese. The kids in science class scattered at the sight of Max becoming a human pizza monster. “Hungry!” he growled.
Max shoved desks out of the way and crashed through the door and headed to the cafeteria. The kitchen staff was just finishing cleaning up when Max burst through the doors. “Kitchen’s closed,” one of the ladies said.
“Pizza,” Max growled.
“I said...Oh, my. Our pizza is in there,” she pointed to the giant walk-in fridge. “It’s not warmed up.”
“Warm. In. Belly,” Max said. He ripped the door off of the walk-in and saw the pieces on a large, flat baking pan. He began downing the pieces one-by-one. With each piece he grew bigger and bigger. Soon, he broke through the ceiling of the school. Alarms in the school began going off and the students ran away.
Sirens could be heard in the distance. With the last piece of pizza in his hand, waving it over his head, Max bellowed “Pizza!” as the police cars and fire trucks arrived with military arsenal close behind.
“Max, wake up,” Bobbo finally just moved Max’s chair nearly causing him to fall out. “We need to get to science.”
“Man,” Max seemed to sigh in relief. “I had the weirdest dream.”
“Was it about pizza?” Bobbo asked.
“Yeah. How did you know?”
“You kept muttering ‘pizza’ in your sleep,” Bobbo said.
“Sorry. My Mom says I do that a lot.”
“Pizza?” Bobbo questioned.
“Isn’t that leftover pizza from Friday?” Brooke asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Max moaned, shoving a piece in his mouth. “I would rather eat month old pizza than those gruel nuggets or those wax vegetables they ran under hot water.”
Tuesday. Max sat down with Bobbo and Brooke. He had nothing on his tray but a cinnamon puff and chocolate milk.
“No lunch?” Brooke asked.
“No pizza,” Max mumbled. “And I don’t like tomato soup.”
“It’s chili,” Bobbo said.
“It’s tomato soup. With beans,” Max exclaimed.
Wednesday. Bobbo and Brooke sat down with Max who had a box of pizza in front of him. Next to him, he had a carton of chocolate milk.
“Bring your lunch?” Bobbo asked.
“Oh, yeah. And it’s much better and filling than whatever those breadsticks are trying to do.”
“They’re Italian dunkers,” Brooke pointed out the liquidy meat and marinara sauce in a plastic cup.
“They’re garbage,” Max protested, chewing his pizza.
Thursday. Bobbo and Brooke sat down with Max who had just a carton of chocolate milk. “Max? What’s wrong? You’re shaking,” Bobbo asked, concerned.
“No pizza. Nothing to eat,” Max lamented.
Bobbo looked down at his tray with baked ziti, roasted vegetables, broccoli, and fruit snacks. “Max, there’s baked ziti tod…”
Brooke interrupted him. “Don’t even try.”
Friday. Max sat down with Bobbo and Brooke. He had three pieces of the rectangular pizza on his tray along with some salad, carrots, and a cinnamon roll, along with his chocolate milk.
“Three?” Bobbo questioned.
“The lunch ladies and I have an understanding,” Max said.
“You have a problem, Max,” Brooke said. “You’re going to turn into a pizza someday.”
“That sounds delicious,” Max salivated.
In U.S. History, Mr. Fletcher had put on a movie about a white guy living with Native Americans and fell asleep behind his desk. Max had also fallen asleep and even slept through the dismissal bell.
“Max, come on. We need to get to science,” Bobbo shook Max awake.
Bobbo and Max arrived in the science classroom and sat at their desks. Ms. Hinck, a short and chubby woman, raised her hand to get the student’s attention and began talking. “Okay, class, I promised you something neat today. We’re going to look at gamma radiation,” she said, and pulled a giant futuristic-looking gun out from behind her desk. The kids exclaimed in awe. “Now, everyone look at that potato I have sitting on that stand. I’m going to shoot some gamma radiation at it. Watch what happens.”
Ms. Hinck pulled the trigger and a beam of radiation came out and hit the potato. Within seconds, it was cooked and soon exploded. The kids exclaimed in delight again.
“Who wants to try it?” Ms. Hinck asked. Several kids’ hands shot up. “Trent, come on up.” Trent snickered and walked up to Ms. Hinck. She handed him to the gamma ray gun. “You can shoot it at one thing that’s not another student.”
“Aw, man. You’re safe today, Bobbo,” Trent scoffed. He looked around the room and saw a mirror hanging over the sink. He aimed and shot. The radiation hit the mirror, bounced off, and hit Max in the back.
“Naargh!” Max exclaimed and shuddered in his desk. “I feel weird.” Max began growing, getting to twice his height but he also grew pepperoni and his skin became a mixture of crust and cheese. The kids in science class scattered at the sight of Max becoming a human pizza monster. “Hungry!” he growled.
Max shoved desks out of the way and crashed through the door and headed to the cafeteria. The kitchen staff was just finishing cleaning up when Max burst through the doors. “Kitchen’s closed,” one of the ladies said.
“Pizza,” Max growled.
“I said...Oh, my. Our pizza is in there,” she pointed to the giant walk-in fridge. “It’s not warmed up.”
“Warm. In. Belly,” Max said. He ripped the door off of the walk-in and saw the pieces on a large, flat baking pan. He began downing the pieces one-by-one. With each piece he grew bigger and bigger. Soon, he broke through the ceiling of the school. Alarms in the school began going off and the students ran away.
Sirens could be heard in the distance. With the last piece of pizza in his hand, waving it over his head, Max bellowed “Pizza!” as the police cars and fire trucks arrived with military arsenal close behind.
“Max, wake up,” Bobbo finally just moved Max’s chair nearly causing him to fall out. “We need to get to science.”
“Man,” Max seemed to sigh in relief. “I had the weirdest dream.”
“Was it about pizza?” Bobbo asked.
“Yeah. How did you know?”
“You kept muttering ‘pizza’ in your sleep,” Bobbo said.
“Sorry. My Mom says I do that a lot.”
Christmas 2016
I've always been a huge fan of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. It's part of the reason that I try to be a decent human being. The thought of possibly being shackled with heavy chains in the afterlife does not thrill me, I don't care if I am a ghost. My favorite versions are the Mister Magoo version and this one. It's only 25 minutes and it won an Oscar. Enjoy and then head down to the comics.
Funky Winkerbean
"Well, my friend and costar didn't kill herself so let's go to Coronado Island. We need to get away from the stress of Los Angeles."
Slylock Fox and Comics For Kids
I guess you could put a tarp over the artifacts or maybe you should've driven something that was a bit more enclosed. Or just bury everything, I guess that works too.
Rex Morgan, M.D.
I would've rather seen Rex read 'Twas the Night Before Christmas to Sarah but her coming out of her coma is good too, I guess.
Beetle Bailey
Saturday, December 24, 2016
Tauy Creek Digest #31: $#!+ Storm
We all knew this was coming. We all knew those pipes couldn't handle the pressure as our diets grew and grew and our bowel movements grew and grew. Some cities upgraded their pipes but most didn't and when the Reckoning arrived, no one knew what to do.
Pipes burst and the waste from the plants designed to hold and treat our left-behinds poured into the sky and fell to the earth like rain. Some was just released into water bodies, turning the blue or green or off-clear into a dark and gritty brown. I was fortunate. I heard the rattle from the toilet as I was urinating and was able to dodge out of the way as my toilet exploded and the fecal matter flooded my bathroom and flooded over the rest of my apartment. Climbing down the fire escape, I saw other tenants racing down or even jumping out of windows. I ran into my neighbor, Lauren, who lived two floors under me, as I raced down the escape.
"I don't know what I hate more," Lauren shouted at me. "The thought of being covered with all this or that the smell will linger in my nose until I die."
"I'm lucky to still be here. I was in the bathroom," I said.
"Where are we supposed to go?"
"There's nowhere we can go. Maybe an empty field in the Middle of Nowhere, Nebraska but the world is going to be flooded soon and we're all going to die. Or be really smelly from now on," I said, narrowly avoiding some wastewater bubbling up from underground.
As we ran into the street, it began pouring from the storm drains and bubbling from the manholes. "Why is it doing that?" Lauren cried. "Those should be two different systems."
"Logic no longer applies. It's like a couple months ago when those sharks got caught in that waterspout in Florida and began raining down on people inland. People said it would never happen but it did and we paid dearly for our mistake."
"Why didn't we listen to the warnings?" Lauren pleaded. We were suddenly separated by a wall of waste crashing down between us.
I didn't wait around to see if she was all right. I got up and began running. I don't know why or where to but thought that was the best idea. Brown, viscous water oozed from the sewers and from underneath doors to houses and businesses. No place was safe from our homemade Hell. I heard a commotion coming from my right. I glanced and saw a bunch of people standing at a school directing me to go over there. I had nothing to lose, so I did.
"Most of the rooms are far away from the bathrooms," a man said. "We should be safe here if we just stay in those rooms."
A couple hundred people were in the school and we all split off into separate classrooms, away from the restrooms. The smell still permeated the air but it wasn't as bad as it could be. We waited out the initial storm until everything was just slow-moving slime meandering across the world, finding the path of least resistance.
"When should we leave?" a woman in the room I was in asked softly.
Everyone gave her a questioning look and shrugged their shoulders.
"I have to go the bathroom," a man said.
"Now that you mention it..." another spoke.
"How can you even think about going to the bathroom at a time like this?" a woman, obviously distraught, gruffly spat.
"We've been here for hours. It's only natural."
"I was in the bathroom when it happened," I said.
Everyone gasped in horror.
"Someone should go out and see what's going on. It's not dark yet. Maybe we can return home," another woman said.
"I'll go," a man stood up.
A couple other people--a man and a woman--stood. "We'll go."
"Same," I said as I stood.
We ventured out into the near twilight. The streets were covered in the brown waste, it pooled in some spots along the curbs or in potholes. Some of the trees dripped with the stuff and I couldn't tell if the grass was covered in mud or the other stuff. Everything was stained, skidmarks everywhere.
The air reeked. I could feel every nasal receptor getting destroyed by the scent. As we walked down the street, taking in our surroundings, we noticed some people had already started cleaning up. It gave me hope that people had already started. It had been a rough day and some rough days were still ahead but we were alive and not covered in fecal matter. Some people weren't so lucky.
Pipes burst and the waste from the plants designed to hold and treat our left-behinds poured into the sky and fell to the earth like rain. Some was just released into water bodies, turning the blue or green or off-clear into a dark and gritty brown. I was fortunate. I heard the rattle from the toilet as I was urinating and was able to dodge out of the way as my toilet exploded and the fecal matter flooded my bathroom and flooded over the rest of my apartment. Climbing down the fire escape, I saw other tenants racing down or even jumping out of windows. I ran into my neighbor, Lauren, who lived two floors under me, as I raced down the escape.
"I don't know what I hate more," Lauren shouted at me. "The thought of being covered with all this or that the smell will linger in my nose until I die."
"I'm lucky to still be here. I was in the bathroom," I said.
"Where are we supposed to go?"
"There's nowhere we can go. Maybe an empty field in the Middle of Nowhere, Nebraska but the world is going to be flooded soon and we're all going to die. Or be really smelly from now on," I said, narrowly avoiding some wastewater bubbling up from underground.
As we ran into the street, it began pouring from the storm drains and bubbling from the manholes. "Why is it doing that?" Lauren cried. "Those should be two different systems."
"Logic no longer applies. It's like a couple months ago when those sharks got caught in that waterspout in Florida and began raining down on people inland. People said it would never happen but it did and we paid dearly for our mistake."
"Why didn't we listen to the warnings?" Lauren pleaded. We were suddenly separated by a wall of waste crashing down between us.
I didn't wait around to see if she was all right. I got up and began running. I don't know why or where to but thought that was the best idea. Brown, viscous water oozed from the sewers and from underneath doors to houses and businesses. No place was safe from our homemade Hell. I heard a commotion coming from my right. I glanced and saw a bunch of people standing at a school directing me to go over there. I had nothing to lose, so I did.
"Most of the rooms are far away from the bathrooms," a man said. "We should be safe here if we just stay in those rooms."
A couple hundred people were in the school and we all split off into separate classrooms, away from the restrooms. The smell still permeated the air but it wasn't as bad as it could be. We waited out the initial storm until everything was just slow-moving slime meandering across the world, finding the path of least resistance.
"When should we leave?" a woman in the room I was in asked softly.
Everyone gave her a questioning look and shrugged their shoulders.
"I have to go the bathroom," a man said.
"Now that you mention it..." another spoke.
"How can you even think about going to the bathroom at a time like this?" a woman, obviously distraught, gruffly spat.
"We've been here for hours. It's only natural."
"I was in the bathroom when it happened," I said.
Everyone gasped in horror.
"Someone should go out and see what's going on. It's not dark yet. Maybe we can return home," another woman said.
"I'll go," a man stood up.
A couple other people--a man and a woman--stood. "We'll go."
"Same," I said as I stood.
We ventured out into the near twilight. The streets were covered in the brown waste, it pooled in some spots along the curbs or in potholes. Some of the trees dripped with the stuff and I couldn't tell if the grass was covered in mud or the other stuff. Everything was stained, skidmarks everywhere.
The air reeked. I could feel every nasal receptor getting destroyed by the scent. As we walked down the street, taking in our surroundings, we noticed some people had already started cleaning up. It gave me hope that people had already started. It had been a rough day and some rough days were still ahead but we were alive and not covered in fecal matter. Some people weren't so lucky.
Christmas Eve Quickies
Marvin
Marvin's parents look just a bit too happy for having two toddlers blat a trumpet and screech a song in their living room. Seriously, those kids can't be that good.
Curtis
That is very specific Barry. I'm a bit concerned now.
Six Chix
I don't care if that is supposed to be kid, that is a gigantic cat.
Dennis the Menace
The word shepherd literally comes from the word sheep herder. Get your etymology right, Alice.
Rex Morgan, M.D.
Will Sunday's strip just be Rex reading 'Twas the Night Before Christmas to a comatose Sarah? That's my kind of Christmas.
Friday, December 23, 2016
Yes, MJ, I'm Going To Do It In My Birthday Suit
Garfield Classics 12/22/1977
My cat Shadow played with ornaments. Batting them around with his paws. He stopped after a few years but would still occasionally bat one around. Atticus likes to chew on Christmas trees for whatever reason. The first day we had the tree up he vomited about six times. Each time the vomit had tree needles in it. He stopped chewing on the tree since then. Katy could not care less about either of our trees. Or us, the people who take care of her.
The Amazing Spider-Man
You would never catch a DC superhero in the middle of the desert in their underwear.
Heathcliff
Merry Christmas, everyone.
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Another Day, Another Failed Funky Suicide
Crankshaft
She wasn't yelling at you because you broke an ornament, she was yelling at you because she hated you.
Family Circus
I like Christmas songs but I don't like it when children butcher the words. Look, I'm confused as to who Harold Angel is and why Stephen gets his own feast but Joy To the World's lyrics are clear. You're just being stupid.
Funky Winkerbean
oh good she's alive i'm so happy
Can we get back to color strips now?
Hi and Lois
One thing I love about art is perspective. All art needs something to draw your eye to it. In today's strip, the giant blue present catches your eye but yet all the characters are staring off to the side for some reason thus distorting the perspective and ruining what little joke is here.
Mary Worth
HEY EVERYBODY WILBUR IS GOING TO MASTURBATE
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