Snark It Up, FuzzBall!

(Wally Winkerbean has just gotten a service dog to help him cope with PTSD)…well, you’d be wrong.

Really, really wrong.

The sad thing is this is very hard to snark — it’s nice to see something Good happening to just about anyone in Funkytown (exception, Les).   Knowing the way things go there, Buddy is going to be hit by a car, or eat some rancid pizza from Montoni’s, or strike up a friendship with a blue cat…

…and pre-emptory strikes:

(In other words, lay off the menopause/tit-bearing/teen-embarrassing humor. Such as it is. Thank you.)

Hangin’ around the library…

Hangin’ around the mall…

Ah, were we ever that young and carefree?

Well, at least as far as Rex Morgan, M.D. is concerned:

And while BMcE is spending an entire week cramming life lessons down our throats by thoroughly-dislikeable people, everything could’ve been taken care of back on Monday.

A talking ice cream sundae in this week’s “Shoe,” had The Comics Curmudgeon himself, Josh F., suggesting that the sundae be given its own comic strip as an exciting descent into madness (rather than the usual pedestrian *humor* one finds in “Shoe”).

Eh, not so much.

No, wait.  That’s “Happy Hour,” isn’t it?

Oh, well.  It’s New Year’s Eve in Apartment 3-G! Happy 1967!

…but I thought Jill Black ought to have as many photos of the rehearsal dinner as possible.  I think she could bring Scott and Jeff up on assault charges.  Wonder which one would turn into a prison prima donna first…