I am not a menace! I am a free man!
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Dennis the Menace, 6/13/07
I don’t pretend to keep track of what the kids are into these days in terms of whimsical and impractical forms of transportation — I’ve only just got my mind around the concept of “heelies.” That having been said, we do have a number of Dennis/Joey-aged kids in the neighborhood, and I have yet to see any of them bouncing down the street on the back of some sort of freakish pastel-colored fitness ball with a handle. Honestly, it looks like they’ve somehow lassoed and tamed the terrifying balloon-guard thingy from The Prisoner. File this under “menacing,” in the “surreal and disturbing” subcategory.
For Better Or For Worse, 6/13/07
All right, let me just say this: I love her! She’s short, she’s brassy, she’s not afraid to show off her dental work. In three panels she’s displayed more personality than Liz has in the past three years of moping, thought ballooning, fleeing from excitement, and getting cheated on. Who’s with me on Team Julia?
Of course, the first meeting between Anthony’s new love interest/employee and the Great White Goose That Broke His Heart is rife with underlying tension, and Julia, being a forward lass, is clearly up for some psychological gameswomanship. The question is, what not-so-subtle message is she trying to send to Liz with her little dental display?
- “See these teeth? Back off, bitch, or I will bite you.”
- “I’m putting my finger down my throat because you make me want to barf.”
- “Yeah, I can open my mouth this wide — and you wonder why Anthony’s smiling? Oh, I guess you don’t know what I’m talking about, since you’re so determined to avoid a cream dress at your wedding — your wedding that ain’t ever gonna happen!”
- “Yeah, he actually said ‘inconvenient tooth.’ Your whole family’s sense of humor sucks. Why couldn’t I have had his assistant the morsel work on me?”
Funky Winkerbean, 6/13/07
Since I am usually relentlessly derisive towards Funky Winkerbean’s relentless grimness, I feel obligated in the interest of fairness to mention that I’ve really been enjoying the “freaks and geeks go to the prom” storyline this week. At first I thought that Mopey Pete was moving in for a smooch in the first panel, but I think he’s just permanently slouched due to the crushing weight of his ennui.
Judge Parker, 6/13/07
Oh, man, I love Sophie: girl knows how to work that entirely unearned wealth. You might recall that the wacky Raju storyline was set in motion when she outsourced her homework to India. By the time she’s 21, she’ll either be presiding over a Spencer Farms-branded horsefeed import-export business and using her deep pockets to undercut her competitors, or snorting coke off of a Piet Mondrian and then beating the servants with a gold brick.
Luann, 6/13/07
I am trying with all my might to ignore the completely asinine current plot of Luann, but I cannot ignore the visuals in panel two. Why is Bernice wearing very dark and clownishly applied lipstick? Why is Luann suddenly sporting very long, probably fake eyelashes? Are they trying to show us the strip would look like if it were acted out by two cut-rate drag queens?
Because if they are, I’m honestly kind of intrigued. I’m not sure what it would take to get me interested in this storyline, but “having it acted out by two cut-rate drag queens” is probably on the list somewhere.
Mary Worth, 6/13/07
“Are you serious? After the last one, where I was ogled and belittled by the freaks who live here? Oh, hell no.”
Rex Morgan, M.D., 6/13/07
Look at that little smile in panel three — Hugh is doing some Creepster Math in his head. “Hot, emotionally vulnerable stepmom + hot-sounding June – annoying, meddling Pete = three-way! Looks like this little trip to America was worth my while after all!”
Zippy the Pinhead, 6/13/07
Zippy the Pinhead isn’t the groundbreaking strip it once was, but I’ll say this for it: when Zippy takes off his shirt, he’s got nipples, by God, unlike Mark Trail or Dagwood Bumstead. A pointless taboo broken!
While I’m perfectly comfortable seeing his dainty little nips, I have to say that his sock(?)-clad, Hagar the Horrible-esque, potato-shaped feet scare the hell out of me.