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Apartment 3-G, 1/3/07

So, in case you weren’t paying attention, Eric Mills broke Margo’s heart by jetting out of town mysteriously, then just as suddenly set it aflame again by showing up on Apartment 3-G’s doorstep on Christmas in a particularly pointless bit of plotting whiplash. Margo must be getting inured to the pleasures of hot monkey sex romance and such, though, because it isn’t having the same softening effect on her personality as it did a few weeks ago. I love her completely pointless outrage in panel one. “Mr. Gibbs? How dare he have a WASPy, monosyllabic last name!”

Mr. Gibbs has been nothing but avuncular and pleasant to Lu Ann throughout the long Adventure of the Haunted Studio, but that facial expression in panel three pretty much screams, “Hello ladies! Looks like all those hidden cameras I installed throughout this firetrap are about to pay for themselves after all!”

Crankshaft, 1/3/07

You know, today’s Crankshaft is a good example of the strip’s subtle but fierce misanthropy. Because at first you’re grateful that they switched the expression around and didn’t actually show you the mangled corpse of a deer embedded into the hood of this car, but then you realize that he’s implying that somewhere there’s a terribly injured animal running around, with a huge chunk of metal and glass and plastic hanging out of a bloody wound in its side … well, Crankshaft is kind of mean-spirited, is what I’m trying to say.

Mary Worth, 1/3/07

Is this the bitchiest Mary Worth ever? “Yeah, Agent Orange, terribly moved, blah blah blah … but what about MEEEEEEEE????? What about MY NEEDS????”

Who is Mary talking to, exactly? Yesterday’s omniscient narration box noted only that she was calling “Cambodia.” Perhaps she was connected directly to King Norodom Sihamoni, who, being a constitutional monarch, has little better to do with his time than to take phone calls from agitated biddies.

Slylock Fox, 1/3/07

I’m not sure what’s funnier: The cheery, innocent look on the face of the megamagnet-wielding security goon, or the expression of sheer, heart-stopping terror on the face of our innocent traveller — perhaps literally heart-stopping, as his pacemaker slams into his sternum, drawn inexorably by this fiendish device. If I had to guess about the origin of this little drama, I’d wager that a certain cartoonist had his precious collection of gels and liquids confiscated by some jackbooted thug while he was traveling over the Thanksgiving holiday. Well, you crossed the wrong gel aficionado, Mr. TSA Man! I bet you felt pretty foolish when you opened up the paper and found that you had been named and shamed in today’s Slylock Fox!

One Big Happy, 1/3/07

The countdown to Ruthie’s inevitable stabbing frenzy and subsequent trip to juvie begins … now.

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Curtis, 1/2/07

Ah, Kwanzaa: What would our life be without you? We would be bereft, is what, since we wouldn’t be treated to the annual totally demented and awesome Kwanztravaganza in Curtis. I didn’t think anything could beat last year’s bat-winged Kwanzaa bear, but this enormous, huge-eyed, telepathic (and the good kind of telepathic, with the glowing rings of telepathy emerging from her brain) golden otter is breathtaking in its over-the-top Kwanztasticness. I was going to go back and read the earlier Curtises I missed during my vacation to see if I could figure out what the hell is going on here, but why bother? Just lie back and enjoy the huge golden otter’s telepathic glow. Ahhhh.

The Phantom, 1/2/07

I did go back and read all the old Phantoms I missed, but I still have no idea what the hell this conversation is supposed to mean. Mostly I just like the sentence “We had it made with that securities job! Now we’re robbing natives!” I like to imagine it coming out of the mouth of one of the fratty Ivy League pricks I went to college with, one of the ones who was all eager to move to New York and get jobs working for Smith Barney or some such, but who one day found himself advancing on a village in Malawi with an AK-47 instead, wondering what had gone wrong with his life.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 1/2/07

The haircut and the striped t-shirt are strongly evocative of Ronald McDonald, which can’t possibly be accidental. But I think what really sells this for me is the fact that the giant cargo shorts are magenta. Because that’s what they’re wearing on the streets. Word.

Mark Trail, 1/2/07

Look at that wistful little smile on Mark’s face in the last panel. Oh, if there’s ever a man who loves the thrill of the struggle with a clever, hard-working beaver, it’s Mark Trail. He’s going to live-trap the hell out of those rodents — but he respects them, is the important thing.

I wonder when Mark is going to tell Dick that he’s the one who set Lucky loose to wreak havoc on Dick’s land. Hint: the best time will be when Dick is unarmed.

Hagar the Horrible, 1/2/07

Oh, for … Hagar and Lucky Eddie do not defend castles! OK? Hagar and Lucky Eddie attack castles that other people defend! Get it? They’re attackers! Not attackees! GAH!

I think there’s something wrong with me that this bothers me so much. But I’m still right, dammit.

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Hi, everybody! I’m back at last. I see you’ve all been having fun in my absence (1270+ comments worth of fun!), but I’m rested and ready, if not tanned, and eager to get back in the blogging saddle.

So, how was your Christmas? Did it feel like it was brusquely shoehorned into someone else’s drama, as in Mary Worth?

Was everybody else busy and you had to get your holiday greetings from someone peripheral and random, à la Abbey the Wonderdog in Rex Morgan, M.D.?

Or were you fobbed off on some generic winter scene that had nothing to do with anyone you know or have even heard of, as in Judge Parker?

Or, perhaps worst of all, did you have to spend the week staring into the dead, soulless eyes of your hideous square-headed family, as in Gil Thorp?

OH FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST, MAKE THEM STOP STARING AT ME! AAAHHHHHH!

Ahem. Anyhoo, not a whole lot of great interest to report in the comics, as they mostly treaded water during a low-readership week. The most action took place among the foobs, most of which was easily predicted and won’t be rehashed here. There were a few bright spots, though. Mark Trail featured this happy, non-beaver-slaughtering scene:

I don’t know what’s creepier: the chipper “Thanks for not killing the beavers!”, or the way daddy’s fondling that chicken leg.

Speaking of beavers, Barreto needs to get back to Judge Parker ASAP before Sophie turns into one permanently.

In non-beaver news, Mary Worth can pretend that she’s dreaming about her not-boyfriend, but thought balloons don’t lie: her main interest, as always, is herself.

And in Milford, we learn that the aesthetic requirements for “favorite couple” are shockingly low.

And! You may have missed your chance to give the gift of Comics Curmudgeon gear for Christmas, but Valentine’s Day is coming up! What better way to say “I love you” than a shirt bearing the crazed rantings of a drunk? Faithful reader Genetic Mishap, who designed this logo, here re-enacts this classic scene:

She also illustrates that the shirt also works when you’re not imitating comics characters:

Operators are standing by, so buy yours today!

Finally, let’s get the new year off on a good foot with a tacky joke about cancer:

Funky Winkerbean, 1/1/07

See, they totally set up a great Yul Brynner joke here and then completely failed to follow through with it.