Welcome to a new year and a new installment of us making fun of Stupid Comics! Yes we're back with another mixed bag of selections pulled seemingly at random from our pile of comic books, comics that artists and writers and editors sweated over and that were sold and sold and sold again and eventually wound up with us, so we could scan them in and shoot them around the world on invisible waves of electromagnetic energy for purposes of smug mockery. So, just like every other year, I guess. Well, let's make the best of it, let's take this new year and dedicate ourselves anew to... what else? Keeping it safe!


I don't know about you, but there hasn't been a year I haven't recoiled in shock while raking the leaves sometime in what appears to be September, horrified that another day has gone by without me making out my New Year's Resolutions. Run! Run inside and get it done before you forget them all! Just don't trip on those old-fashioned clamp-onto-your-Keds-and-tighten-with-a-skate-key roller skates, they'll be valuable collectibles in a few decades.


Johnny forgot to put the rake away and left it lying around with the prongs up, and that means hacky comedy actors have been circling the lawn for hours, waiting for their chance to enact some zany routines.


Look at Johnny yelling at his little sister here, just like Mom yelled at him. Sis will later perpetuate the cycle by yelling at her doll. Meanwhile Johnny sticks his tongue out in concentration at trying to spell the word "safety" correctly. If only he would think "safety" all year!


Meanwhile Veronica safely throws a party where the guests come as famous historical Americans and everybody shows up as 18th or 19th century characters, except for Reggie who shows up as Elvis, who is barely in the ground, man, too soon! Show some respect! And don't forget to try some of Veronica's famous "firecracker punch," whatever that is.


No matter the beverage, it will taste better in a glass featuring partially colored line artwork of a dog going to school! Ask your mom to get you the full set - obviously, strict federal regulations prevent children from purchasing jams or jellies.


Let's see - one, two, three, four, five, six... seven? There were *two* sets of these? Quick, back to the antique mall!


Remember kids, you aren't a REAL kid until you're dressed in the Dennis Uniform - and don't forget those "stretch slippers," whatever they are. I guess I was never a real kid.


Or maybe you'd rather be a real broncho buster. Remember to wear the mask when you're "busting" those "bronchos." They pay extra for the mask, it's more exciting.

So that's your outfit covered. But what about shoes?


Landing the AAU Shoes advertising account means dusting off that shoe-related pun dictionary because for some reason AAU Shoes' VP in charge of advertising believes the essential ingredients of a successful campaign include super heroes, world destruction, and feet-related jokes.


Let's see. Jog, run, heels, shoe, sole, this is like a footwear-based iteration of that pickup-artist seduction technique where loaded words are dropped into conversation to induce subliminal emotions in the subject, except there's nothing subliminal about this, it's right up front there, it's the shoes. Shoes!


Subtext becomes text as children are forced to watch and comment upon the psychosexual drama enacted by these two foot-obsessed weirdos. Shuperstars? More like shupershickos!!


Wait, Stan Musial of the Cards is telling kids to "spark up" - which is beatnik slang for taking a "drag" on a "reefer" or MARIJUANA CIGARETTE?


Whew, he's only promoting Wheaties, the breakfast of champions. Mind you, get a little stoned and you'll be eating lots of Wheaties. Or anything else in the kitchen.

Well, so much for professional baseball players, let's check in with a professional stage comedian and see what he's up to.


Looks like watermelon-smashing comic Gallagher has finally realized the futility of his comedy career and has turned to crime. Good for you, Gallagher.


Meanwhile Hot Stuff uses the medium of Hostess Cup Cakes ads to finally bring down the curtain on Freudian psychology. Remember, sometimes a pitchfork is just a pitchfork!


The real Freud once asked "what does woman want?" and the answer is Hostess Cup Cakes!

And while we're in Harveyville, let's check in with Richie!


How is anyone ever going to know how much money they have without a money-counting robot they named "The Count" after seeing an episode of Sesame Street? I ask you!


At some point America's children need to be taught that the wealth of corporations and governments isn't kept in big stacks of bills, but exists in, shall we say, more abstract forms, and that the only people with warehouses full of cash are, well, drug dealers. Maybe they're trying to tell us something about the Rich fortune. Count faster, robot!


Oh sure, the robot gets the excuse of too much heat warping his mental grid, but there are no convenient excuses for me when I run around stuffing potato chips into my face! Maybe I can just say I was following Stan Musial's advice and sparking one up.


It was, at one point, the height of fashion for every wealthy estate to install ornamental hippies.


The hippie lifestyle, endorsed by flour-sack sporting burnouts, shirtless bearded yokels, and damaged robots. Weirdly enough, "shirtless bearded yokel" is now the signature look of many of today's top men's fitness gurus!


Meanwhile, Cadbury battles workplace sexual harassment... by engaging in some workplace sexual harassment.


And let's wrap up with another public service announcement that asks the question, what if we were living in a world where people just didn't care about their jobs? Where plumbers and operators and mechanics half-assed their way through the day, where NASA technicans goof around, and where kids don't do a good job cleaning out the garage? Well, it would look... exactly like the world we live in today. Sorry, comics.

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