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Mary Worth, 1/16/07

Wow, so Mary’s arrived in Vietnam! And she’s managed to check into that country’s most cracker-tastic hotel! It looks like our bow-tie wearing desk clerk has only been Asian-ized thanks to a last-minute introduction of “sallow” by the coloring sweatshop gnomes, who are themselves no doubt based somewhere in Southeast Asia (though probably not Vietnam, as wages there are too high; I’m thinking Myanmar).

The happy Aryan couple in the background of panel two sure are excited to start their Vietnamese adventure; in fact, the redhead looks particularly excited, if you know what I mean. And I think you do.

Pluggers, 1/16/07

Sure, this is mainly a gentle pun on “overlook,” but I think it’s telling and hilarious just what it is Dog-Man is looking at over his reading glasses. He didn’t forget to buy milk and bread at the supermarket; he forgot to take the pill he needs to keep his ham-clogged circulatory system in something resembling working order. Because pluggers need expensive prescription medication in order to live.

Also, to the surprise of nobody, pluggers have trouble distinguishing between the plural and the possessive in writing. Pluggers, I think you might need some unwelcome education from Bob the Angry Flower.

Marvin, 1/16/07

Wow, remember last week, when Marvin was cracking wise about the massive dump he just took? Bet you never thought you’d look back on that and think it was classy and tasteful.

Mark Trail, 1/16/07

“Uh-oh, here comes your dad. He’s going to see the beaver!”

I … I don’t think there’s anything I can add to that.

Crankshaft, 1/16/07

Ha ha! Crankshaft is mad because he thinks that “lifestyle” is code for “gay”.

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Slylock Fox, 1/15/07

This has to count as one of the most frankly sexual newspaper comics I’ve ever seen. I neither expect nor at any level want to see red-hot mouse-on-mouse action in Slylock Fox, but in a medium that tippy-toes around the love life of three healthy single women in Manhattan and goes to excruciatingly unrealistic lengths to protect Elizabeth Patterson’s virtue, the matter-of-fact presentation of Max “visiting” Melody in the middle of the night — and of the two of them obviously being woken up by Slylock’s frenzied late-night call — is kind of shocking.

This sidekick business is clearly no cakewalk; clearly, Max must be forced to carry a beeper around with him, or to give his vulpine boss the phone number of all his lady friends’ houses. Either that, or he’s only cultivated his relationship with Melody because he knows she lives across the street from a fence. As soon as the stolen goods are recovered, Max is moving on, leaving a tiny broken heart in his wake.

For Better Or For Worse, 1/15/07

In my policy of trying to find the bright side of everything, I’m really enjoying Liz’s verbal humiliation at the hands of her Mtigwakian supposed friends. As I’ve noted earlier, the Noble Natives of the North may have been intended as a heavy-handed bit of ethnography, but they have ended up being the only people in Foobonia allowed to frankly call Liz on her crap. Not that I endorse the overarching “stick with your own kind” message here, but wrapping up “Girl, she stole your man! Snap!” in some kind of mystical “spirit journey” hokum is pretty hilarious to me.

I think we all know that Liz doesn’t have to worry about guidance. Her journey is like a cruise missile, zeroing in on The Mustache at an unstoppable rate.

Antifoobitarianism is spreading to the Webocmic world, by the way. Check out these recent offerings from Crap I Drew On My Lunch Break and Shortpacked!

Dick Tracy, 1/15/07

Boy, Dick Tracy is getting soft. Dick actually looks kind of concerned that he may have accidentally destroyed a man’s mind while engaging in pointless plot-stalling exposition. It takes mustachioed industrialist Diet Smith to supply the appropriate level of callousness. “Now, Tracy, this man is my employee, and when he signed his contract, he waived his right to sue or press charges over accidental brain erasure. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the empty shell of his body is disposed of with some degree of dignity.”

The phrase “he spilled his thought beans” makes me uncomfortable on a number of levels.

Mary Worth, 12/15/07

Not only is Mary Worth honest-to-God going to Vietnam, but she’s managed to go from decision to airborne in less than a week. Meanwhile, she’s still having disturbing dreams. I’m guessing that “Hanoi … Peace Village” has something to do with this, but it’d be so much cooler if it were actually the site of the Communist mind-control lab where Mary was brainwashed forty years ago. It’d play out like The Manchurian Candidate, with Mary playing the part of both Frank Sinatra and Angela Lansbury.

At first I was jealous that Mary was flying in some kind of magical airplane with wide, comfortable seats and several inches of elbow room between neighbors, but then I realized where that extra space came from: there doesn’t appear to be any aisle. Presumably once the plane reaches Vietnamese airspace, the bottom of the plane will open up and the passengers will be dropped onto their destination.

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Apartment 3-G, 1/14/07

Well, now we know how Eric Mills has managed to claw his way to the top of New York’s ultracompetitve art world. Suckers spend all their time carefully wooing temperamental geniuses in the hopes that they’ll create another Guernica, another Thinker, a work that will make their reputation echo down the ages. Eric instead finds some moderately talented striver, then dangles the prospect of fame in front of her eyes and orders her to churn out paintings by the gross. He seeks nothing less than to be the Wal-Mart of the art world, complete with slave labor. I’m guessing the “gallery” where Lu Ann’s masterpieces will be displayed is a conference room in a Holiday Inn on the New Jersey Turnpike, and that the ad copy for the “show” will rely heavily on the phrase “starving artist quality at starving artist prices.”

Spider-Man, 1/14/07

In a particularly egregious Sunday-weekday comics coloring mismatch, Saturday’s Caucasian Gay Pirate Porn Star has suddenly been replaced by today’s African-American Actor Who Is Classically Trained But Can Nevertheless Only Find Work As A Cheesy Doo-Rag-Wearing Criminal, circa 1993.