March 21, 2006
Putting aside the egregious health code violation that comes with allowing a cat to dine at your restaurant for the moment, why would he use a fork to scratch his nose? He’s got claws, for God’s sake. Also, when are we going to bury the notion that the the quality of a restaurant is proportional to the amount of flatware on the table? It wasn’t funny when Larry, Moe and Curly did it 70 years ago and it’s not funny now.
March 17, 2006
Jon attempts to play hide and seek with Garfield. He has fun, the cat doesn’t.
March 02, 2006
Right now, the operations department is desperately trying to get Jim Davis on the horn. The people need to know what actually transpired in today’s strip. In one panel, there’s a cookie and Jon is politely offering to share it with Garfield. Then before I know it, the cookie’s gone, the strip is over, I’ve never seen an exchange, both Garfield and Jon are sporting looks on their faces that read “wow, anal sex does hurt” and the audience is left with a puzzle of the cookie’s fate. Who the hell ate the goddamn cookie?
February 13, 2006
Inhaling vapors of leftover sauerkraut has the same creepy morphing effect on Jon as would a gasp of the mutagenic atmosphere of Mars in Total Recall. Garfield is unfazed by his master’s disfigurement.
December 20, 2005
Jon suspects that the fruitcake he received from Mrs. Feeney is the same fruitcake that she sent last year, which he threw away. Garfield offers to get a mallet and wooden stake. Fruitcake jokes, folks. This is what makes Garfield the most successful comic strip in the world: Jim Davis’s keen eye for cultural conventions that have escaped mockery.
December 15, 2005
Jon stands beneath mistletoe (apparently awaiting a kiss from either his cat or dog?). Garfield places a signpost near him reading “Have Pity.” How the cat crafted the sign, I’ve no idea.
December 13, 2005
The dimwitted dog tries the pull-my-finger routine on the mean, lazy cat. When pulled, instead of the unsurprising surprise burst of flatulence, the pup cha-chings like a cash-register drawer, offering something that looks like green candy canes hung on his tongue. Yech. Still, they say that a dog’s mouth has less bacteria than a human’s hands (if you believe that sort of frequently-repeated-without-citation bullshit presented as psuedofact). Anyway, green candy canes kind of suck.
December 07, 2005
Garfield, still wearing Santa’s stolen hat, now consumes Santa’s cookies. To add insult to injury, he does it under the cover of Santa’s hat!
Santa knows if you’ve been bad or good, you fat fuck. Stop screwing with him.
December 05, 2005
The enterprising cat has hijacked Santa’s hat, returning only in exchange for his desired gifts. Garfield obviously is unfamiliar with Santa’s M.O. (giving toys to children who have been nice, not those who steal his hat). My guess is the tree at the Arbuckle house will be curiously devoid of whatever it is that Garfiled wanted this holiday season (catnip, lasagna, his own hobo to taunt).
Also, that fat bastard (Santa, not the cat) has to have 6,000 of those red hats. Nice try.
November 30, 2005
Jon says, “Garfield … Santa Claus is coming to town!” and Garfield thinks, “Really?” and then he thinks, “He can stay in my room!” and I think Jim Davis just doesn’t care about anything at all anymore.
November 24, 2005
The human catches the cat attempting to steal the turkey.
These antics delight 260 million readers worldwide every day. Four percent of the planet. They love it.
November 22, 2005
Jon has finally gotten through to the pizza joint and placed an order for a pizza that’s going to cost him an arm and a leg … triple toppings of everything. Hopefully, that includes a triple helping of some self-respect. From the conversation that ensues with the pizza folks, it appears Jon isn’t the only human whom Garfield intimidates.
November 21, 2005
Jon is seen holding the phone and then asking who wants pizza. Sign of stupidity number one—hello, Jon! Why don’t you ask if they want the pizza first and then pick up the phone. Why waste your time waiting for their answers and letting the dial tone go dead? Think for crissake. No wonder your cat walks all over you. Sign of stupidity number two—Jon is asking for his pet’s opinion. Next he’s going to ask them whether or not he should buy a merkin for his mum for Christmas. I wish this guy would make a decision for himself for once. Just once. Seriously, what type of a man actually considers input from his pets before making a decision? This comic is so unrealistic.
Here’s the real thing that gets me though. I’ll play along and assume Garfield knows what Jon is saying and responds to the pizza question in the appropriate manner. In this case, the portly feline does a celebratory dance. A dance I have to trust occurs because I can’t see it. Now I’m supposed to just accept that it’s a funny dance? Talk about taking the easy way out. Why not just write, “Trust me, it was funny!” in the final panel and be done with it. I’m through with having my intelligence insulted by this comic strip. Screw this fat cat and his wet noodle owner. They can both burn in hell for all I care.
I’m out of here.
November 02, 2005
The cat, which nothing up his sleeve, is accused of treachery. Instead of merely walking away the better, he kicks the idiot dog off of the table, feeling obligated to do something.
We’re not laughing, you know.
October 31, 2005
Jon: I’m glad to have you as a pet.
Garfield: Don’t touch me.
Y.P.R.: Please stop producing this.
October 28, 2005
The dog tells Garfield to go away. Garfield does.
Are you kidding me?
October 24, 2005
The cat plays on the fragile psyche of a self-described “mean” dog. The cat revels in his own “meanness.” I die a little inside.
October 21, 2005
The fish is missing and Garfield is next to the fishbowl. Where on Earth could the fish possibly be? Don’t worry. Rather than leaving it to the scholars to debate this Holmesian mystery, Jim Davis solves it for us.
Thank god. I’ll be able to enjoy my weekend now with the weight of this conundrum off my mind.
October 20, 2005
We’re not sure what’s more disturbing: the fact that this obese cat can take down an entire hamburger in one quick bite or that Jim Davis is still getting paid real American dollars to have this slapdash, idiotic piece of drivel published daily in nearly 2,600 newspapers worldwide.
October 19, 2005
The owner, who appears to have less and less to live for with each passing day, waxes aloud about his seemingly interminable day. The cat, whose laziness is surpassed only by his disdain for his human counterpart, suggests that the blame for the endless day lies witht he owner. The cat’s day went by quickly and without incident; He was, in fact, sleeping.
Ha fucking ha.
October 14, 2005
Bro, this Jon dude is so totally whack.
October 13, 2005
Jon kisses a monkey, lets his tongue aerate as his dumb dog does.
October 12, 2005
After stalking the cute perfume tester at the mall, Jon is sprayed with Eau de Sauerkraut, which, as the cat points out, goes well with wieners. (Get it? Wieners!)
October 11, 2005
Jon ingests huge quantities of nachos to impress a girl who works in a bowling alley. Sadder than it is nauseating.
October 10, 2005
Jon, desparate for any living attention, tells his pet of the cute girl he met at the supermarket. Sad, I know. Sadder still: the cat only cares whether its master bought doughnuts. I bet the supermarket checkout girl didn’t even notice him.
I bet Jon cuts himself.
October 09, 2005
With one literal tongue lashing, the stupid dog licks all the wicked cat’s ice cream. And fur.
October 08, 2005
Jon spots a single, yellow feather. “Is that a canary feather?” he asks. Garfield says, “Not anymore.” This is supposedly hilarious.
October 07, 2005
Jon dates a mime, reiterates his date’s choking/gagging gestures for his pet.
October 06, 2005
Good God! What the hell is going on in the Arbuckle household? This little slice into their domestic affairs leaves litte wonder as to why Jon never gets laid and Garfield is such a fat unfeeling bastard. Not to mention, who keeps that many peanut butter cups in the house? I will grant one thing however, it’s impressive that a cat can manipulate those little peanut butter cup wrappers with nothing but paws. My dog can only eat its own feces. It’s a shame a cat that talented can’t put his talents to good use, like teaching Jon how to shave his face.
October 04, 2005
Cat kicks dog off table, blames world cruelty.
October 03, 2005
Garfield begins salivating at the ring of a doorbell. When Jon presents the pizza delivered, Garfield’s wet himself with anticipatory spittle.
October 02, 2005
Jon is chillin’ in the backyard’s inflatable pool, sipping from a glass of ice water. Garfield, perspiring, sucks so hard on the drinking straw of Jon’s beverage that the poolwater is sucked up through Jon’s pores and, somehow, into the glass, through the straw, and down Garfield’s throat. Forget the violent disregard for physical possibility here—most illogical is the summery content of a strip dated October 2nd.
October 01, 2005
Jon thinks cats are curious. Garfield demonstrates that he isn’t.
September 30, 2005
The cat explains that, to the human’s untrained eye, resting might look like nothing. But it’s different.
September 29, 2005
Jesus Christ, this cat is at it again? He’s been lying on his f@#K%ng back all week. Now he’s waxing philosphical about how overrated standing on your feet is. Someone put this lazy son of a bitch out of his misery already before I snap.
September 28, 2005
As Garfield slips further and further into depression, John takes it as a display of his social ineptitude. Garfield lies prone, letting his melancholy eat away at his soul. John does not hug the cat or ask what he can do to help him get through this dark period. Instead, he merely fixates on the mess it would make if Garfield never moved again. Has there ever been a more barren relationship?
September 26, 2005
In today’s adventure, our plump protagonist muses on the origin of the nap. While he discloses that he is not directly responsible for its genesis, he does reassure his devoted followers that he did indeed have a hand (or should we saw paw) in the nap’s evolution. If it weren’t for cats, the nap would still be imperfect in form. Viva la feline!
September 23, 2005
Jon sets a milestone: 200 rings on the other end of an unanswered phone.
September 22, 2005
O.K., you ready? Figure out this humdinger: Jon ponders, “Who knows? Maybe there are beings on other planets.” And Garfield think-replies, “Yeah … Chickens would be nice,” bearing some nefarious-looking fangs. What the fuck? This makes zero sense. It’s not a gag. Not even a dry, almost-funny bit. Hell, it doesn’t even amount to anything resembling narrative or logic. It’s just random words. Yeah. Chickens would be nice. What? Why? Because Garfield eats chickens? And can travel to outer space to conquer the chicken planet? Or does he mean chicken in its metaphorical “fraidy-cat” sense? Because that doesn’t really help matters any. And what’s up with them wicked sharp teeth? This is fucking stupid. Does Jim Davis have an editor reviewing this claptrap at Universal Press Syndicate or is he so titanic a funny-pager that he can barf on poster board and receive unqualified praise? And who cancelled U.S. Acres?
September 21, 2005
Jon blames Garfield for everything except the weather, but Garfield wants to assume blame for that too. Presumably there’s humor somewhere?
September 20, 2005
The simple human instructs the wicked cat not to kick the retarded dog. Cat slaps dog instead.
September 19, 2005
Maybe it was espresso?
September 18, 2005
The dork calls for a pizza. By way of handwritten oak-tag sign, the cat instructs him to order something larger than large, and calls him a dork in the process. The dork cannot recognize a direct address without a comma, therefore when reciting the cat’s note, the man calls whoever is on the pizza-end of the phone a dork. Who wrote the sign? The cat? Really? He can write but not speak. Whatever.
September 17, 2005
A tree falls and almost hits Garfield. It lands on Jon instead, probably killing him. What the fuck? How is this funny?
September 16, 2005
You know, this strip used to be intentionally vague when it presented human-feline interaction, cleverly sidestepping the issue of whether Jon could “hear” Garfield’s thought balloons. I think Jim Davis has just given up.
September 15, 2005
The cat displays its first ever bit of feline behavior, purring for its master. The cat then admits that its contrived mew was, indeed, sappy.
September 14, 2005
A mouse questions the cat regarding the whereabouts of his slippers. The cat ate them, but swiftly regurgitates the rhodent’s footware, amazingly whole.
September 13, 2005
The mongoloid mongrel fetches a ball; the wicked tabby did not want it back.
September 12, 2005
The ubiquitous kitty is seen reveling in his message of hope, of dreams fulfilled. When pushed further by his mildly retarded owner, the feline reveals the context: a shopping list of food!
September 11, 2005
The gluttonous cat exhibits a Cheshirelike inability to drop his creepy grin, even for a second. It is because he consumed his master’s last doughnut.
September 10, 2005
The blissful, open-mouthed vapidity of the dog, combined with the goofy ineptitude of his mentally disabled owner, causes the cat to rhetorically ask if there’s any wonder why he chooses to spend three-fourths of his day asleep.
September 09, 2005
The cat dials the local pizzeria and attempts to confound his mentally disabled owner by pretending the pizza dispatcher has called and wishes to speak to him.
September 08, 2005
The person points out that they’ve reached the penultimate bag of potato chips, which is, as the cat astutely points out, unfortunate and strange. Indeed.
September 07, 2005
The awkward human wishes to be alone. The cat offers to stand guard.
July 21, 2004
The lazy tabby cat pays his master too much attention.
July 20, 2004
The tabby cat urges his master not to disturb him, except for the purposes of feeding.
July 19, 2004
The supine feline has the urge to exercise, but it quickly passes.
July 16, 2004
The tabby cat has spent a week in his master’s easy chair, postureless, glacierlike, mesmerized by the soporific television programming, existing (barely) in a Kafkaesque stupor.
July 15, 2004
For the third day in a row , the tabby cat sits in his master’s easy chair, postureless, glacierlike. The soporific television programming bores him stupid.
July 14, 2004
Again, the lazy cat watches insipid television programming; his apathy makes him inert. Even inerter than yesterday.
July 13, 2004
The lazy cat watches an insipid television program; his apathy makes him inert.
July 12, 2004
The lethargic cat and simple dog watch a television broadcast of dogs drinking from the toilet. The simple dog’s excitement produces a puddle of drool. The cat laments letting the dog choose the television program.
