Argh, those Sunday strips are so big! Let’s take them on in bite-sized chunks.
Apartment 3-G, 10/28/07
Yes, Ruby, and if your mad cosmetological skills don’t land you a hairdressing job, your mad unbearably-white-deployment-of-verging-on-outdated-slang skills should land you a role in that new off-Broadway production, Diff’rent Strokes: The Musical.
Panel from Beetle Bailey, 10/28/07
“I wish you got more to give me, Beetle. I wish you would just turn around and say ‘I love you, Sarge,’ never mind the consequences. But you don’t got the guts. So I’ll just stand here with my hand on your shoulder, your tight-football-pants-clad butt just inches from my crotch, for a few minutes. That’s all I’ve got. I wish I got more.”
Portion of the Family Circus, 10/28/07
I’m not sure which is more disturbing: the thought that daddy’s work pants are tattered and stained with cut-rate gin and urine, or the thought that daddy’s work pants are bright pink and end just below the bottom of his butt cheeks.
Panel from Mark Trail, 10/28/07
“Normal humans have nothing to fear from our friends the owls! However, horrible mutants — like this freakish, big-foreheaded specimen here — will be subject to vicious, merciless owl attacks. Remember, owls are your town’s first line of defense against mutant incursions!”
Panel from Mary Worth, 10/28/07
I guess those motion lines around Dr. Jeff’s head are supposed to indicate that he’s taking a deep, hearty quaff of whatever hard liquor he’s surreptitiously poured into his coffee mug, but they look more like bobble lines of shock and horror to me. Combined with his wide eyes, I imagine he’s thinking, “Wait, it isn’t? God damn it, woman, you know that if my son’s involved in this stupid comic strip, I need to show up in it every once in a while as well. Why can’t the plots involve Chinbeard and his trophy wife for once? Who are they sleeping with to get out of their contractually mandated number of appearances in this nightmare?”