Addicted to dumb
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Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/20/05
Wow, how much do I not find the current Rex Morgan, M.D. storyline interesting? A lot. I find it a lot not interesting. I’m not even going to bother summarizing Scrap Iron Jack’s boring quest for a good poker game, which seems to have occupied the last umpteen weeks. I do have to say that our one-eyed vet’s sweaty brow and vibrating head don’t really match up with what I understand to be the typical symptoms of compulsive gambling. He’s looking for Texas Hold ‘Em, not smack. Unless this is about the painkiller subplot that was dropped like a hot potato towards the beginning of this tedious slog, I’m unimpressed.
Anyway, the only reason I find this comic worthy of mention is the coif on our fetching bartender here (you probably can’t read it in this low-res graphic no matter how much you stare at her ample bosom, but her name tag indicates that she’s “Iris”). It’s shiny. Very, very shiny. Why is it shiny? How is it shiny? Is the answer to either question related to her daring decision to wear black lipstick to work? It’s the answers to these questions that Rex Morgan, M.D. should be tracking down, but Iris will no doubt be long forgotten by the time Jack gets to his first Gamblers Anonymous meeting sometime in 2009.