Redundant and superfluous day.

Take the stairs and walk up. How are small and petty different? One's from the French and one isn't. Taffi Meredith Heidi-Anne should know better.

De gustibus non est disputandum.

When rotten squirrel is your favorite cologne, a combination nose warmer/butt warmer is nothing to sneeze at.

Dead tree version.

It's ironywoood.

Today's comic seen only on the internet.


Joyce Kilmer was here.

Even the apples had alarms.

Eating it in Eden.

Slapstick.

Resorting to slapstick.



Low precision humor. Two significant figures. Infinite regression.

It's fundamental.

Or, to quote Dr. Johnson, she just has a bottom of good sense.

It's what's on the undside that's important.

Soylent Clyde.

And then Barney can process them into a nutritious wafer form.

It's Professor Kingsfield.

Today we honor the late John Houseman. And we wonder if the ."J" in "J. Barnard Pillsbury" stands for "Jsmith."

How sharper than a serpent's tooth...

Children are so ungrateful. Barney provides an unlimited supply of free drugs, and Cynthia pretends to want heroin.


Where's the brand loyalty?

Gun Moll.

Women always fall for the bad rabbit.

She's getting a rep for being the crime doc.

You should see the other guy.

And he probably gave him tularemia, besides.


You don't want to say "fix" to any animal.

Let a smile be your umbrella.

Every time it rains it rains Pennies from Heaven. Take two Bing Crosbys and call me in the morning.

The Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.

I think Clyde was too embarrassed to wear the Stay-Puft coat.



Re-gifting reaches "the street."

Brains, Brains, Brains!

Cynthia is getting that zombified look in her eyes. It must be love.

The way to a girl's limbic system.

Is through her amygdala.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday.

Two for the price of one.

The Post and UClick ran one strip, but Comics.com ran a different strip.
Post/UClick.

How many clean hands do you need at one time?

Comics.com February 13, 2011. (Link may not always be valid.)




A wet London weekend AND a U2 song.

Comics .com has changed its archive to correctly display the Sundays in order. This comic is from a month in the future, March 13, 2011.

Mr. Language Personator.

And, thus, a new super hero was born, MIZ PRONOUNSEEASHUN.

Origin stories ain't what they usta be.

Elementary, or possibly Middle School.

The pie's a foot. And a leg.

The Adventure of the Cardboard Box.

Dirty Dancing.

Arthur Murray is a dirty old man.

Some 'Splainin' to do.

An "I Love Lucy" tribute today.

William Holden is at the next trash can.

Video punctum tuum.

B&C's first viral Tweet.



C. Julius Caesar would have said, "Video punctum tuum." But that's a March 15 joke.

The Third Law.

That's not contradiction. That's Newtonian physics.

Duck Soup. Not just good, it's Keane!

Fortunately, Cynthia woke up before she reached the weepy-eyed Keane's and the Kinkades.



The Red Skelton clown is worth a pile, too.
The Warhol tribute to the Marx Brothers is a bit ambiguous.

Chose language.

Closed captioning provided by ncicap.org. Sponsored by Pillsbury Pharmaceuticals, "Drug for life. Drug to death."

Wide and tall mens wearhouse.

Alternatively, XXXXV.We're going to need a bigger widescreen.

Groundhog Redux.

Nobody could have seen that coming.

Yeah, we're good at anticipating the obvious cultural references.

Rat's-are-tawny Clyde.

Lunch is escaping!

Devil's in the details.

The Shadow knows.

If he sees his shadow, Clyde. If he sees his shadow.

You can Whack-a-Mole instead.

"Well, what if there is no tomorrow? There wasn't one today." -- Phil Connors, Groundhog Day.

All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair--
The bees are stirring--birds are on the wing--
And winter slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring !
And I, the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.

Yet well I ken the banks where Amaranths blow,
Have traced the fount whence streams of nectar flow.
Bloom, O ye Amaranths ! bloom for whom ye may,
For me ye bloom not ! Glide, rich streams, away !
With lips unbrightened, wreathless brow, I stroll :
And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul ?
Work without hope draws nectar in a sieve,
And hope without an object cannot live.

Work without Hope -- Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

Technically speaking, the wing is on the bird.