Apartment 3-G, 4/20/15
I won’t try to update you on recent goings-on in Apartment 3-G, because, well, let’s just say Josh’s theory that the strip has become a livestream of Margo’s psychotic delusions seems as good as any. This new guy/hallucination is either some jerk who’s been pranking Margo on the streets for a few months, or one of her string of unfortunate lovers stretching back to the Kennedy administration, and there is NO WAY I’m implying that those two are mutually exclusive. Maybe in Margo’s fevered imagination President Kennedy himself has come back from the dead to prank her on the streets, I wouldn’t rule it out. Quite the card, that Jack — and lookin’ pretty sharp for a man of 97.
Gasoline Alley, 4/20/15
Like everybody, I just knew when a custodian named “Gus Todian” showed up, he would pepper Mrs. “Trace Me” Hatley and the rest of us with pointless and annoying wordplay. But “vegetablearian” had me stumped until I realized it was an attempt to force “veterinarian” in there, as though veterinarians, or for that matter midwives, help out after insects hatch. From their eggs. Just shut up and go get Jetpack the wetvac, Gus — slurp up those nymphs mighty quick.
Judge Parker, 4/20/15
Long, long ago — decades before his New Year’s Day 2000 wedding to Abbey Spencer — Sam was the badass in this strip. He was a detective, then, doing the tough, messy work stuffy neither Judge Alan nor that effete smartass Randy had the stones or the competence to do themselves. But consigliere or not, it’s the Parkers’ name on the strip, and Sam will never be family.
Now, while Alan and Randy jet off to jungle compounds to quaff Cristal with willowy assassins and international arms merchants, Sam squats in this washed-out squirrel-infested trailer park, nursing his diminishing stores of supermarket plonk, ignoring his shrieking, entitled daughter, and picking fights with the likes of Dalton here and his meaty comrades. I wouldn’t go pointing that finger, Dalton — our boy’s having a very bad day.
Apartment 3-G, 4/4/15
Oh, look, Margo is back with her old friend Thelma! You remember Thelma, of course, as the waitress at Margo’s favorite diner, which is actually outside on the sidewalk or maybe inside some apartment where the decor hasn’t been updated in fifty years, who can even tell. She used to be a redhead and now she’s a blonde, but the important thing is that her sidewalk/apartment diner also serves booze now! And Margo wants her sweet, sweet brown liquor, so step it up, lady. Her swear words say “I will cut you” but her big grin says “It’s fine, everything’s fine!”
NEW THEORY ABOUT WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN APARTMENT 3-G: all the ladies Margo’s been interacting with lately look vaguely like Lu Ann because they are all Lu Ann. Margo finally had that psychotic break we’ve all been waiting for and is now confined to a reputable mental health facility or possibly her apartment, and dear, sweet Lu Ann is play-acting as just about everyone else in her delusional world, to distract her.
Gil Thorp, 4/4/15
Say, were you wondering how the tale of Max Bacon™, Fake Pill Popper®, turned out? Well, Max was suspended from the team for the rest of the season, Bobby was fired as student manager, and the basketball team missed the playdowns. Max will apparently get to come back next year, presumably chastened and fake-drug free, whereas Bobby … Bobby is raising an army of children to aid his bloody, violent, sure-to-be legendary revenge. They’ll regret underestimating Bobby. They’ll all regret it.
Apartment 3-G, 3/30/15
I’m reasonably sure that we haven’t met Carla before, but I assume from context that this latest Apartment 3-G character who looks kind of like, but is not, Lu Ann is Margo’s assistant? Anyway, the hand that Carla is gently resting on Margo’s collarbone rekindles prospects of Margo/Margo’s assistant sexytimes for all of us who finally gave up on the Sargo pairing. “You don’t have to demean me … but you could, if you wanted to as part of consensual dom/sub workplace roleplay.” Either that or Carla’s about to strangle her, one of the two.
Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/30/15
Speaking of workplace dominance, I am getting more excited about Nurse Carter’s apocalyptic arrival on the Morgan clinic scene by the day. “Yeah, I spent years in the DESERT getting HUMAN BLOOD all over me when I was UP TO MY ELBOWS in the GUTS of young people who got BLOWN UP for your FREEDOM to not use a FUCKING NAPKIN when you eat a SANDWICH, so we’re cool, don’t worry about it.”
Man, Jughead sure looks awfully smug in that final panel. “Haha, this sure is a savage zinger that I didn’t even dare speak aloud, even though I’m miles away from the school cafeteria and its staff. I’m dying, bit by bit!”
Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 3/30/15
Hey, are you vaguely aware of bitcoin, the distributed cryptocurrency that very few people care about but the ones who do care about it care about it a lot and won’t shut up about it? Were you wondering when it would stop being a thing? Well, good news, it’s a punchline in Snuffy Smith, so I’m pretty sure it’s officially not a thing anymore.
In today’s Crankshaft, Crankshaft’s saddest friend has a flat tire! That’s … the joke?