Mary Worth, 3/12/07
So Mary Worth’s storyline seems to have finally given up, and I say good riddance. It could never really figure out what it was supposed to be about — fortune telling and condo association rules? Agent Orange? a battle for biddy supremacy? Mary’s latent guilt? Mary’s latent love for Jeff? tuna casserole? As Ella drives off, presumably to her death, we can only hope that more interesting things, or at least more coherent things, are in the cards.
And call me a hopeless optimist, but I’m guessing they are! “Hi there! I’m Gropy McGrabass, and I’m an up-and-comer here at Creepy Lack Of Affect Advertising Agency! You must be the new person here, right? I bet you haven’t had your sexual harassment seminar yet! It’s a load of bullcrap, trust me! Hey, mind if I rest my hand on your rear end for the next three to six months?”
Non Sequitur, 3/12/07
Well, I live in Baltimore, actually, but it’s true that I’m not afraid to point out blatant payola wherever I may find it. So don’t try to silence me, oppressive gears of international capitalism, and don’t try to buy me off!
Wait, did I say “don’t try to buy me off”? I meant “do.” Really! Do!
It sounds like an urban legend, but it’s an absolutely true story: One of my wife’s co-workers had a baby a few years ago, and when she (my wife) was visiting her (her co-worker) at the hospital, another proud mom in the maternity ward reported that her husband needed to figure out how to spell their new daughter’s name, so he had just run over to the liquor store to copy it down from a bottle of Courvoisier. Because everyone should be named after whatever substance contributed most directly to their conception.
Marmaduke and Ziggy, 3/12/07
Today, two single-panel standbys took on an intriguing question: can a relatively lame and somewhat puzzling joke be made funnier by the addition of donuts, which some might argue to be an inherently amusing food? The answer is clearly “no”, but it’s nice to see them trying new things.
Does it make me a bad person to think that “the Donut Hole” is an almost unspeakably filthy name for a business? It’s not as bad as “the Bucket,” but still.
Slylock Fox, 3/12/07
Glow-in-the-dark paint? I’m afraid Shady Shrew’s a lot shadier than that: that’s a big pile of radioactive waste, and our soricomorphic friend is a terrorist dirty bomber as well as a perpetrator of televised consumer fraud.
What the hell kind of home shopping network allows its vendors make crude, hand-painted signs for their wares? The kind that doesn’t have a geiger counter, apparently.
Apartment 3-G, 3/12/07
Going by Tommie’s facial expression, I’m guessing she’s all kinds of not listening to Margo. Not that it matters, because, as the greatest omniscient narration box in the history of omniscient narration boxes tells us, “Back at 3-G, Margo’s happiness is undiminished!” Pretty much every installment of this strip that features Margo could include that box, actually; just substitute “rage” for “happiness” if she’s in her other mood, and you’d be all set.