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Doodles by Mac & Sack, 3/18/07

Ah, there’s lots of good artistic hate to be had in today’s Doodles. Our koala hero is usually the victim in this feature, getting haplessly devoured by various beasts, but today in my opinion our simian artiste has every right to be outraged by his marsupial rival’s blatant act of visual plagiarism. This is what comes of kids’ constant exposure to Slylock Fox’s Six Differences puzzles: they think, oh, we just need to change six things about a picture and it’s totally different! Well, it isn’t, and I think we’re about to see some monkey poo flung righteously to make that point.

Fun bits from the bottom: A painter assaults his own work in some kind of absinth rage; the charmingly named “Toby da Vinci” stares dully out at us, proudly showing off his headless creation; and a classic anti-Semitic football joke is reworked for general consumption.

Apartment 3-G, 3/18/07

OK, for a while I was willing to believe that Gina was just unnaturally self-absorbed and clueless, but it’s pretty obvious now that she’s decided to just torment Tommie relentlessly for some reason. Does any normal English speaker ever just switch pronoun referents in mid-thought? No, unless they’re trying to screw with your head. The only question is: why would anyone want to persecute poor Tommie Thompson? Isn’t her life pitiful enough as it is?

I note that, like most underemployed actors, Gina is slumming in the caffeine-delivery service industry. I’m guessing she manages to insult her customers on a routine basis. Fortunately, she’s probably too dumb to notice how bad her tips are.

Mary Worth, 3/18/07

“Curses upon you, Von”?

“Curses upon you, Von”?

Wow. Just … wow. I’m not even sure how to follow that up. Vera Shields looks like she has a lot of internalized anger. We all know of, course, that anyone who comes into Charterstone experiencing normal human emotions must be dealt with, and harshly. So, the question is: is Vera going to be the kind of Mary Worth peripheral character that Mary needs to help … or the kind that Mary needs to kill?

With its decaying plaster, crooked pictures, and bed that was blatantly scavenged from a dumpster behind a hospital, Vera’s apartment looks way too downscale for an up-and-coming ad exec. It’s barely a step up from the downtown women’s shelter! My theory: “Von” is actually Houston Texans defensive back Von Hutchins, who blew a tackle that allowed the winning touchdown in a game that Vera had 50 large riding on; thus, this filthy tenement room is all she can afford after she makes her monthly usurious payment to her bookie.

Dennis the Menace, 3/18/07

Today, Dennis proves himself less menacing than Margaret. And Margaret’s grandmother.

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For Better Or For Worse, 3/17/07

Oh yeah, Gerald an’ April are gonna be at home all by themselves. And they’re going to “practicing.” And I think you and I both know what they’ll be practicing. That’s right: they’ll be practicing talking like actual fifteen-year-olds, rather than robots programmed by a sixty-year-old to say things like “make some green,” “the kiddies,” and, of course, “practice.”

Beetle Bailey, 3/17/07

For those of you who don’t know, a “magnum” is a one-and-a-half liter bottle of wine or champagne, which is twice the usual size. Thus, General Halftrack is merely proposing to drink himself into a stupor so as to at least briefly obliterate from his mind the hellish reality of the marriage he hates, and is not openly contemplating some kind of murder-suicide scenario. It’s still plenty grim, though perhaps not as off-putting as his flesh-colored mustache in panel two.

Curtis, 3/17/07

Clearly there’s some kind of off-panel donkey defecation going on in the first panel of today’s Curtis, but I have to admit that I’m disturbingly fixated on Curtis’ unfinished sentence. Why do you think they call it what? What? Is there some proverb or turn of phrase or bit of folk wisdom that involves donkey poop?

Judge Parker, 3/17/07

Wow, look at the expressions of utter panic on the faces Neddy and Abbey as they grapple with the concept of having missed their stop. If rich Americans, who are clearly the best and smartest people in the world, can’t handle the complexity of public transit, how in the world do the poor foreigners who ride it consistently make it home alive? Here’s a hint, kids: the train goes both ways along its whole route. You could just get off and get back on going back the other direction until you return to your stop, and not have to wander through whatever horrifying slumscape you’ve inevitably ended up in.

If you can’t tell, I’m growing more and more contemptuous of these two with each passing moment that they manage to further botch the relatively simple task of taking the train; thus, I am now openly rooting for the sinister punk rockers, and firmly believe that our pair of innocents abroad will deserve what they get. Fortunately, the evil punks probably don’t have anything sexually deviant planned for their victims, since, despite all evidence, they apparently believe that Neddy and Abbey are men. Yes, “Ils regardent la carte,” as Mohawk Punk puts it, means “They’re looking at the map,” but the “they” is masculine; the feminine would be “elles”. I don’t mean to imply that I’m some big expert Frenchie-talker — I was in charge of parlezing the vous when we were in a remarkably punk-rocker-free Paris a few years ago, and Mrs. C. will be happy to tell you how badly that went — but the ils/elles distinction is something you literally learn in the first week of French class.

Slylock Fox, 3/17/07

The most disturbing thing about this Slylock Fox? It’s not the fact that the cow has, in a burst of unnatural strength, managed to leap across a road; nor is it the cow’s unprovoked attack on the terrified rabbit, despite the fact that two species are not traditionally antagonistic towards each other. No, it’s the heavy-lidded, unfocused expression on the cow’s face, combined with the lolling tongue. That cow is high as a kite, and I don’t just mean literally.

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B.C., 3/16/07

Ha ha! It’s funny because his wife talks a lot, and he’s tired of it, even though he presumably knew she talked a lot when he married her, so he’s got her tied up in the basement with duct tape over her mouth!

Wait, did I say “funny”? Because I meant “horribly offensive.” But see, when he calls her some 19th century term of abuse like “magpie,” it’s all old-timey, so we can just ignore it. Ha ha, that Johnny Hart! That crusty old hateful bastard! Ha!

Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/16/07

Wait, now hold on just a darn minute. Niki might be pretty good at garage cleaning and such, but there is one — exactly one — person in this neck of the woods who works on fence-related issues. One. And I think we all know who that is:

Hopefully, that’s him at the door right now, to set things straight and present a grossly inflated estimate.

(Baffled Rex-Morgan-readers-come-lately should check out this classic post.)

Apartment 3-G, 3/16/07

You know what offends me about Apartment 3-G? It’s set in New York, right? Now, I don’t live there, but I do love the place. It’s one of those cities in the world that has a really strong sense of place: if you’re there, you know you’re there, and nowhere else. Unless, of course, you’re in Apartment 3-G, which could take place literally anywhere that’s full of tall buildings and white people. The Apartment 3-G girls never take the subway, or a taxi. (Even Neddy and Abbey are taking the Paris Métro, for God’s sake.) They never eat at any of the many famous, recognizable restaurants at their disposal. Starving artist Lu Ann never visits any of the world-class art galleries. And Neil is getting great reviews in the “local press.” I think the world could handle the name of one or more of the major New York papers, people. You can look them up on the Internet even.

Mark Trail, 3/16/07

YEARRRRGGGHH HUGE SOULLESS TERRIFYING EYES SCARY SCARY SCARY NOOOOOOOO

Mary Worth, 3/16/07

YEARRRRGGGHH MARY INQUIRING ABOUT SOMEBODY’S SEX LIFE SCARY SCARY SCARY NOOOOOOOO