Worst. Summer. Ever.
Gil Thorp, 8/18/10
I feel like I’m turning into one of those old people who are always whining about how much better things used to be in the Old Days, when you could get drunk at lunch on weekdays and children were allowed to work in garment factories, but: summer used to mean something in Gil Thorp, man. It meant total madness. Remember 2007? Coach Kaz pimped himself out as a freelance badass and Gil taught a one-legged kid to box, in the same year? The seasons used to follow a predictable, stately rhythm: football, basketball, baseball/softball, lunacy.
But in 2010, this has now been downgraded to football, basketball, baseball/softball, golf. This summer hasn’t even had a hilarious b-plot to distract us from the annoying overbearing-father-cheating-on-golfing-son’s-behalf bull hockey we’ve been subjected to. Today’s the first time in nearly a month I’ve felt any compulsion to comment on the strip, and it’s just to note that Gil, having against all odds defeated the evil overbearing dad with his usual half-assed psychological warfare techniques, has decided to reward himself by getting blotto and watching the young people he’s ostensibly supposed to be coaching from the safe distance of the golf course’s clubhouse.
Mary Worth, 8/18/10
Wow, remember yesterday when I made a very silly and totally unrealistic joke about Richie getting gunned down in a drive-by? Well, it turns out that I can kill comics characters with my mind. Whom shall I mark for death next? Marvin? Brad DeGroot? Marvin and Brad in some kind of murder-suicide pact?