BC: You've been married for 20 years, Jake.

The thing about adultery that so many people don't seem to understand these days is that it's HILARIOUS.*

*OK, not really.

BC: Schink.

Oh, Corpse of Johnny Hart, as baffling and then horrifying as this comic is, I'm afraid it's got nothing on Momma. Indeed, on the Mommameter, in which an adorable malapropism about carrots is a 1 and honest-to-goodness suicide in the service of a bad joke is a 10, this couldn't rank any higher than a 6. They are just snakes, after all.

BC: My mother-in-law is coming for dinner tonight.

Really, BC, a mother-in-law joke? The syndicate saved you from the grave for this shit? Can't you put just a little bit of effort into--

Oh, wow, I've completely misjudged you, BC. Congratulations on switching up the formula of the trope. I'm really interested to see where this joke leads.

NOOOOOOOOOO...

BC: Maude tricked me into going to the opera.

This comic is hilarious because female ants enjoy high ant art, while male ants despise high ant art.

BC: Who looks good in speedskating this year?

This comic is hilarious because The Cute Chick is cute, while The Fat Broad is fat.

BC: I just jumped the shark!

If you're a comic strip that's currently being authored by a corpse, you should probably think twice before making a joke like this.

BC: Humans occupy this planet.

If I can praise Garfield for its bold* stance against global warming, I can praise BC for its bold stance against, well, mostly humor but also possibly global warming, I think?

*For the comics section.

BC: Spawning Season.

Amazingly (disturbingly?) enough, this is the third--yeah, the third--occurrence of fish-fucking in the comics section since I started this blog.

BC: Monopoly 2009 Edition

This comic is hilarious because the corpse of Johnny Hart is taking anachronism to impressive new heights.

BC: Of course, it can have its advantages.

This comic is hilarious because the wolf wants to fuck the Cute Chick, too.

BC: RIP

This comic is hilarious because the dinosaur wants to fuck the Cute Chick.

BC: They said, if I don't get a turkey, they're gonna eat me instead!

The corpse of Johnny Hart seems oddly fond of jokes that involve human beings consuming one another's flesh.

BC: SPFFFFF

So you think the drink you're holding is a beer. But when you go to take a drink, you discover that it's actually water. You:

a. swallow it, because it's just water, and it's not like it's bitter or disgusting or anything, or
b. spit it all over the place.

If you said b, congratulations. You are a character in comic strip.

BC: Spent all day chasin' a doe--just to come up with nothin'!

This BC is very clever indeed, what with the way it connects hunting to picking up women, thus suggesting that

1. Thor's spear is analogous to a penis and
   
2. A woman is analogous to an animal you hunt down, kill and eat, and whose head you remove, stuff and hang on your wall as a eternal testament to your masculinity.
   

BC: Rats. A defect.

I liked this comic strip better when it was a Friz Freleng cartoon.*

*BC apparently steals all its jokes from Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies now.

BC: What's goin' on with the TV?

This comic seems to be operating on the premise that ant television antennae became useless after after the prehistoric digital switchover. But, of course, that's not true. As anyone who's even remotely aware of prehistoric ant technology knows, digital ant television antennae were required to receive digital channels.

BC: The spirit of giving is in the air.

Which is more bizarre and morally incoherent: The BC comic above or the Dan Bejar song below?

Baby Blues and BC: So that's the secret, eh?

The use of puppy dog eyes is a bizarrely common device in the comics section, made even more bizarre by cartoonists' complete inability to draw them in a non-creepy way.

BC: Bad rap.

So the corpse of Johnny Hart is not a fan of the hip hop.

This is shocking.

BC: Do limericks count as poetry?

Considering the ant-lady teaches at a "skool," it's not really surprising that she doesn't know that limericks do, in fact, count as poetry.