Archive:

Tuesday, Apr 25, 2006 Comments are closed

Her cheating French-Canadian heart

Post Content

For Better For Worse, 4/25/06

Mark my words: Thérèse’s having humiliated and cuckolded Anthony is only the beginning. My prediction is that, despite the fact that this evil, baby-hating hussy vowed that the nine months little spawn-of-Anthony spent in her womb would be the sum total of the energy she would expend on it, she’s nevertheless going to take the Mustachioed Milquetoast before a bewigged Canadian judge and demand custody. Why? First, she’s a FBOFW villain, and therefore exists to make the sympathetic characters as sympathetic as possible; and second, there is no need for any other reasons.

Meanwhile, if Liz gives up her exciting, fulfilling life in the north and her romances with Paul the ass-grabbing mountie and Fly-Boy Warren to come home, marry the chump, and start popping out babies, then I for one will be very depressed (though not Anthony-level depressed, don’t worry). Mock her First Nations travelogue life if you must, but she’s the one Patterson that escaped the suffocating middle-class suburban life that has Mike in a death-grip, and nothing about Anthony says to me that he’s worth sacrificing a whit for.

Mary Worth, 4/25/06

The only way Kelly could look any more depressed than she does in panel two would be if she actually had a gun barrel in her mouth. “You sat through the same awful dinner as I did last week, and now you want me to spend more time with that force-feeding loon? And you’re the biddy that people come to for advice in this town?”

Apartment 3-G, 4/25/06

Aaaand thus endeth the Tommie storyline.

Monday, Apr 24, 2006 Comments are closed

Filth, foreigners, doom

Post Content

Pluggers, 4/24/06

I have tried — I mean, really, really tried — to restrain my college-educated, East Coast-dwelling, liberal urban elitism while reading Pluggers, holding my tongue as I am lectured day after day about how simple, down-home folks are morally superior to me. But this one really just pushed me over the edge, and I’m not what you’d call particularly clean. All right, Pluggers, listen up: If your response to spilling something on the floor is to aimlessly push it around with your sock, you live in filth, OK? I know your kitchen tile is already invisible under a layer of grime and sticky Fanta residue, but try to make a goddamn effort, for Christ’s sake. I hope social services comes and takes away your undernourished kids, the Humane Society comes and takes away your chained-up dogs, and the dentist comes and takes away the last of your meth-loosened teeth. And don’t try to tell me that you represent the “real America,” because I live in America and we have these things called paper towels.

Judge Parker, 4/24/06

Meanwhile, in the other America — the rich, white, freaky-red-haired-fright-wigged America — Sam and Abbey have turned from ruining Ned’s love life to cramping Sophie’s academic style. See, earlier this morning (by which I mean two weeks ago, JP-time), Abbey’s youngest received praise from her teacher on her latest school paper, which praised the concept of outsourcing. Today, the upcoming conflict is being telegraphed with a total lack of subtlety: Sophie is outsourcing her homework to India! This presumably includes the aforementioned paper about outsourcing, which may be a desperate attempt on the part of this strip that it does too understand the concept of irony.

Who’s to blame for this sad state of affairs? Evil, greedy CEOs, who have set a bad example to the nation’s youth by demonstrating that labor should be sought at the lowest possible prices, wherever you can find it? The Indians, for being so smart and yet working so cheaply that good old fashioned American fraudulant-paper-writers can’t compete? My vote goes to Sam and Abbey: I don’t care how many acres your estate is and how many pretty, pretty horses frolic prettily on it, nobody Sophie’s age (which is indeterminable due to crappy artwork, but is surely somewhere between 8 and 13) needs access to international wire transfer capabilities.

Sally Forth, 4/24/06

Boy, is Hillary in luck! She’s bonded with a moody goth girl just in time to learn about death!

Sunday, Apr 23, 2006 Comments are closed

More proof that cats are in league with Satan

Post Content

Family Circus, 4/23/06

This may be the first time ever that I’ve appreciated the Family Circus in a non-ironic fashion. Then again, this may be the first time that the Family Circus featured the aftermath of a ghastly parody of a religious sacrament that quickly descended into child-injuring violence. My favorite aspects: the discarded bible, face down in the grass, its pages no doubt scratched to ribbons by Kittycat in a desperate attempt to escape salvation; and the dripping water and anger-produced steam emanating from the aforementioned still-unsaved feline. I am a bit curious about the transistor radio — tuned to some cheesy contemporary Christian channel, no doubt. I also think that it was overkill to use the hose and the bucket and the water already in the birdbath. They really tried to baptize the hell out of that cat.

Anyway, the only way this cartoon could have been improved would have been to dress Jeffy up like Robert Mitchum’s evil preacher from Night of the Hunter.

Luann, 4/23/06

Criminey, DeGroots, this is the ghetto-ist replacement for a TiVo ever. Join the modern age, already!

This next joke, on today’s Rex Morgan, is courtesy of Mrs. C.:

You know, for someone whose parents are a doctor and a nurse, Sarah sure is sick a lot.