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Luann, 6/28/2008

We readers get to see TJ “Jheri” Rictus lookin’ forlorn every six months or so. It helps us tamp back the rage. But merciful heavens, one panel is not enough. Not nearly enough.

Dick Tracy, 06/28/2008

Dick’s been congratulating his own clever self on his 1337 crimefightin’ skillz for a couple weeks now, only to be undone by the night janitor. Is that why he’s moping in a mere “squad room” today, instead of his jaunty “squad pod”?

9 Chickweed Lane, 6/28/2008

Okay, um, Seth neglected Mark while scolding Edda for breaking up with Amos, so Mark, hurt, hinted darkly at infidelity, creating a rift Janice now tries to exploit. Mark values revenge against Seth, whom he loves, but protects the integrity, which she lacks, of Janice, whom he spurns. These people are unclear on concepts like “love”, “revenge”, and — most of all — “gay.” On the other hand, they have “middle school” nailed.

Apartment 3-G, 6/28/2008

Ah. The perfect trio to discover Alan in narcotic déshabillé back at the gallery — Margo for rage, Jack for muscle, and Gabriella for histrionics. Madre de Dios, we’re in for a good time next week! But first — cake!

Judge Parker, 06/28/2008

The second in our series: Who does Judge Parker think he is — Michael Patterson?

— Uncle Lumpy

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Hey, it’s Fashion Week on the funny page, and here come the Judge!

Judge Parker, 6/26/2008

Well! Since he returned last week from his mysterious eighteen-month retreat, the fashion world has waited breathlessly for their first peek under the robe of our own Judge Alan Parker. Speculation has been nonstop, and wild! What will we find under that robe he wears night and day? His pyjamas? Nothing at all? Mrs. Parker? Now the mystery is revealed, and . . . well, he can close the robe back up. Really, Judge. Go right ahead.

Judge Parker, 8/7/2007

Of course, Judge Parker holds court for more than just the latest styles: look to the House of Parker for tips on fabric care, too! Like this one: to achieve her casual “off the rack” look, wine-country fashionista Trudi lightly steams her ribbed tops over the grillwork of a 1955 Buick Roadmaster!

Mary Worth, 6/26/2008

And would any Fashion Week be complete without an appearance by our First Lady of Fashion, Mary Worth? Here, Mary appears in a simple but elegant romper, set off by her ever-present pearl choker. Mary’s appearance this year is marred by controversy over rumors she’s invited a new partner into her circle, displacing her partner of many years, Dr. Jefferson Cory.

Mary Worth, 7/4/2006

Not long ago, Cory occupied a prominent place in Mary’s circle — but tonight there’s a table for one at the Bum Boat with his name on it!

Luann, 6/26/2008

Finally, let’s look in on fashion’s own Odd Couple. Just minutes after his close escape, TJ is back in his cool, casual, classic look — and back to looking out for number 1! And while Brad’s ensemble may say “World War I Doughboy” on the outside, he’s showing the world he’s Pillsbury Doughboy on the inside!

Hey, what are your comic fashion picks and pans?

— Uncle Lumpy

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Dramatic reversals in the Wednesday serials — let’s dive right in!

Spider-Man, 6/25/2008

Oh, snap! Peter can’t stop the Vulture or even get pictures of anybody but himself. Jonah exploits his failure to buy the photos for a pittance, then spins the story so Spidey has to go back at the Vulture, sick or not. Let’s officially retitle this strip Jonah and be done with it.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 6/25/2008

And in an instant, Rex’s life is changed forever. Effortlessly, doughy Tom Arnold lookalike Max Mallory pierces his tissue of lies and threatens his cover, shield, and only source of strength. The roses in panel two tell us — and Rex — that Max now owns him no less completely than Mary owns Jeff. MRSA can sleep safe tonight.

Mary Worth, 6/25/2008

Today: Mary’s thought-bubbles beat down Jeff’s phone messages. Next: Mary’s emails beat down Jeff’s semaphore signals. Really, this strip could get along perfectly well without people. At least these people.

Apartment 3-G, 6/25/2008

Margo struggles with the whole “Tommie getting more than me” concept. There, there, dear — we’ve all been down that road.

Luann, 6/25/2008

Dear Mom:

Thank you for raising me. I am all grown up now. And a fireman! See my axe? Now shut the fuck up!

Love,

your Bradley

— Uncle Lumpy

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New directions for old favorites, just in time for the weekend!

Apartment 3-G, 6/20/2008

Hey, Tommie’s back! And it’s clear Gary’s ardor hasn’t cooled — soon, he’ll whisper that if the hospital doesn’t upgrade the intrusion detection software on the Pharmacy network leg to current specs — and fast — there’s no way they’ll demonstrate HIPAA compliance before the first-round JCAHO review. Tommie will just lower her eyes and coo that the time may have come to negotiate with an outside service provider for penetration-testing services.

Then comes the howling.

Funky Winkerbean, 6/20/2008

Hey, Les is on the fast track: just learned where the glassware goes, now he’s running the Manhattan operation. At least he knows the neighborhood — last visit, he spread his wife’s ashes in Central Park, got mugged, and squandered his precious honeymoon memento calling Funky to come bail him out. Now he — and we! — can relive the magic.

Back home, Summer will spend her copious lesiure time ginning up fresh tragedy, as required by her genetic inheritance, her contract, and the strip’s mission statement. Her Dad, of all people, should know there are no “comfort zones” in Funky Winkerbean.

Luann, 6/20/2008

Hey! Brad’s on the job! He’s gonna rescue TJ! Five days ’til The Kiss!

— Uncle Lumpy!

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Blondie, 6/4/08

Wait … is Dagwood supposed to be an office manager? Is … is that the joke? Because he often deals with “accounts” and makes presentations to clients for Dithers Enterprises, which isn’t something that office managers do, I don’t think. Or is he just taking offense at criticism of lazy incompetents on general principles? Or does he find it hard to relax because his co-chatter is talking about work? DAMN IT DAGWOOD YOU BROUGHT IT UP.

Anyway, I refuse to believe that Dagwood would just be spending time on random chat rooms. If he were to frequent any Web site, I’m pretty sure that it would be this.

Luann, 6/3/08

Comics about Brad’s sex life: Distasteful.

Comics about Brad’s fetishistic shaving-based sex life: NGGGNGGGNGNGH

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Herb and Jamaal, 5/12/08

I was going to make some snide comment about how sad it is that Herb and Jamaal thinks it’s keeping its readership enthralled by this cut-rate David-and-Maddie-style romantic tension plot, but then I realized that I keep commenting on it, so who’s the sad one, really? Anyway, today’s installment takes the strip’s usual nonspecific circumlocution to some kind of higher art form. Are these two even aware that they’re talking about each other any more? Is Jamaal !ing in the final panel because he’s trying to visualize what Yolanda means by his “hammer” and her “bent nail”?

Luann, 5/12/08

Speaking of tedious romantic storylines, with TJ safely bundled off to … wherever he goes to when he’s not in the strip (*cough* gay bar *cough*), will tonight finally be the night when Brad “mixes some Brad” with Toni’s “Toni”? I have no real idea what that sentence I just wrote means, but it sounds gross, so I hope not.

For Better Or For Worse, 5/12/08

Speaking of tedious romantic storylines, I have to admit that today’s FBOFW made me crack up. Sure, it’s a reinforcement of the horribly retrograde idea that the strip’s been going on about for some time — that if some guy you don’t like is coming on to you, all you can do is wring your hands and whine weakly about it unless you have a bit of finger hardware purchased for you by someone else with external genitalia. But the sight of Warren recoiling in horror from the second-cheapest ring from Zales (or its Canadian equivalent) as if it were filled with deadly radon gas is so hilariously over the top that Foob, Inc., has to be in on the joke. Right? Right? Right?

Mary Worth, 5/12/08

In happier news, Donna Amalfi celebrated Mother’s Day by dropping dead. Since this blessed event took place at the beginning of the week, we should be treated to five or six glorious days of Mary helping the Brothers R process their emotional pain before giving this whole thing up as a bad job and blessedly moving on to something equally dumb.

Ziggy, 5/12/08

AOL-themed joke from 1998 + talking feces = desperate, desperate cry for help.

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So, last night I had put up my little Luann-Schlieffen Plan joke and was feeling kind of proud of it, when my wife came in to read the post and said, “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything about the second panel!” To be honest, my eyes had mostly just skimmed over the text of Luann’s mom’s diatribe once I felt I had the gist, but since my wife is in the sex ed biz, her more discerning eye couldn’t help but settle on the gem highlighted here:

HPV, if you don’t know, is one of the most common sexually transmitted infections. Since the DeGroots have been married for 20+ years, this worry on her part has serious implications for her fidelity, her ideas about his fidelity, or the possibility that they’re totally free and freaky swingers (I knew that something racy was going on at Kamp Kouple.)

Anyway, my wife posited that this was originally written to have her wondering about whether she should get the new HPV vaccine for Luann, and that the syndicate then rejected this as too controversial. I replied that based on Luann’s track record, we don’t have to worry about her having sexual contact with anyone anywhere anytime soon.

The strip concludes with Mrs. DeGroot kissing her husband good-bye and heading off for her mammogram, leaving the baffled Mr. DeGroot to thank God that he was born a man. Because men don’t get venereal diseases or need preventative medical care!

UPDATE: Yes, as several people have pointed out, HPV can be latent and asymptomatic for a long time; thus, Mrs. (or Mr.) DeG could have been infected in the course of their premarital sexcapades. This of course implies that they’ve had premarital sexcapades with other people, which is a sort of groundbreaking thing for the forever-arrested-in-1955 sexual morality of the comics, and makes it all the sadder that they seem grimly determined to keep their twentysomething son virginal (not that he needs much help.)

Also, it’s important to note that Mrs. DeG is obviously wearing Captain Kirk’s uniform, which she probably picked up off the floor in the aftermath of their space-quickie. And if there’s one person you’re likely to catch an STD from, it’s Captain Kirk, space-whore.

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Slylock Fox, 5/4/08

Hey, look, everybody! Cassanda Cat’s back up to her naughty tricks again! The crimes perpetrated in Slylock Fox are generally pretty small-time, but stealing a jar full of pennies from a rabbit seems particularly petty, the sort of thing one might do just to mess with someone, or perhaps to attract the attention of a certain law enforcement officer. The fact that she’s just dumping her ill-gotten gains into a well brings her contempt for the stolen property into nice focus.

(And hey! Don’t forget that you can buy Cassandra Cat stuff from the Comics Curmudgeon store!)

I also think the picture up top, with the cat and dog tending the poor toothachy kid, is very sweet. (Note: Domestic pets are not a substitute for professional dental care.)

Panel from Luann, 5/4/08

Today we learn that Luann’s dad has the same sweet little pet nickname for her mom that the British had for the Germans during World War I. I’m sure when they get amorous, she puts on one of those helmets with the big spikes on top and he begs her to “execute the Schlieffen Plan,” if you know what I mean, and I think you do.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 5/4/08

“Hello, we’re the creative team behind Rex Morgan, M.D.! It’s come to our attention that some of you find action-packed plots about blackmail, escaped prisoners, and flesh-eating bacteria to be ‘boring’! Well, what if you were able to enjoy those same plots … but they involved sexy people in their underwear? America, get ready for Rex Morgan, M.N.! The ‘M.N.’ stands for ‘mostly naked!'”

Panel from Apartment 3-G, 5/4/08

Lately, the Sunday Apartment 3-G strips have been even more obvious rehashes of the previous week than usual, leaving me virtually no reason to ever comment on them. This panel from today’s installment caught my eye, however, when you consider its parallel from Saturday’s strip:

It’s very sad that a clean-living young man such as myself has to lecture the comics industry on this point, but: DRUG LINGO IS NOT INTERCHANGEABLE. Also, it has evolved somewhat since 1953. Please do a minimum amount of Internet research before attempting to deploy “street” talk in your comic. You’ll be glad you did.

For Better Or For Worse, 5/4/08

Ha! It’s funny because Michael hates his children, and hopes that if he ignores them they’ll go away! The second and third panels of the second row are particularly instructive; I defy you to find anyone, even among touch-typists, who types with their eyes closed. He’s obviously just hammering away at the keyboard churning out nonsense to drown out his daughter’s desperate pleas for attention.

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Luann, 4/29/08

You know what? I like Gunther. You know, he’s dorky, and he’s even got some hobbies (like sewing) don’t seem cool even to other dorks, but he also seems totally comfortable with who he is, something I wish that my dorky high school self could have been. His little speech to Luann in panel two is both eminently sensible and very sweet.

…and then, of course, he pulls out the horrifying fetishistic pig head. You just know there’s a ball gag behind that snout. Next come the handcuffs.

Slylock Fox, 4/29/08

Yeah, laugh it up, birds! You know, poor Baldy McMustache has a dull office job that crushes his soul, and the only thing that keeps him going is his hobby watching the beautiful birds as they fly and sing in his yard. Maybe he just wanted to make the yard a little more inviting for you, to give a little something back for the hours of happiness he’s gotten from bird-watching. Sure, he doesn’t have particularly good carpentry skills, but it’s the thought that counts! The least you could do is coo politely. But no, you just have to humiliate him in front of his kid. Well, I hope you like poisoned birdseed, you ungrateful feathered bastards, because you’d better believe that’s what’s going into the feeder tomorrow morning.

Judge Parker, 4/29/08

I don’t mean to take anything away from No-Legged Steve’s awesome lawyering skills, but it’s easy to do a week’s worth of work in a day when you had your morning coffee a month ago. In fact, by my reckoning, Steve could have actually done four times as much legal eaglin’ as he actually pulled off! Way to go, slacker.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/18/08

Man, Mr. HOW ARE YOU GOING TO KILL IT just will not let up, will he? At least he’s now gone to a we’re-all-in-this-together scheme with a first person plural rather than an accusatory second person, but he’s still damn annoying. I think Skinny Coroner Guy’s MRSA advice is just an excuse to throw bleach at Yelly McShouterson and then “limit contact” with his fists.

It’s possible that our volatile vested fellow just uses this catchy phrase as his catchphrase in any and all situations. Those of you who are better than me at using Photoshop might enjoy exploring the different people and things he’s shouted HOW ARE YOU GOING TO KILL IT at, like so:

Luann, 4/18/08

I just want to point out that Luann and her mother are both ignoring that the Standard Creepiness Rule for dating age differences, as canonically described in this xkcd comic, allows for a larger age gap as both parties get older. Thus, it’s creepy for a 21-year-old to date a 16-year-old (those are my assumptions about Luann and Ben’s ages), but it’s not creepy for, say, a 30-year-old to date a 24-year-old, or a 45-year-old to be married to a 33-year-old. Sorry, Luann, you’ll just have to wait until you grow up.

(OK, mostly I just wanted to link to xkcd. It’s great! You’ll love it!)

Ziggy, 4/18/08

Wow, somebody doesn’t understand how computers or video games work at all. It’s even less athletic than you think, dude.

Apartment 3-G, 4/18/08

Man, leave it to Apartment 3-G to make even the hot girl-on-girl action boring. Please, Gabriella, this eyebrow-peck is hardly gasp-worthy.

I know I shouldn’t be looking to Lu Ann for a firm grasp of economics, but isn’t the whole point of keeping the number of prints limited to drive the price up? It’s supply and demand, just like we learned about in Curtis the other day. She’d just be encouraging her initial buyers to get rich in the resale market, if her paintings were any good.

Gil Thorp, 4/18/08

And if there’s one group who learned the hard way that you shouldn’t pay for genetic engineering unless you have the money to do it right, it’s the lumpy, mutated flipper-people of Gil Thorp.