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Garfield and For Better Or For Worse, 7/28/06

I know I haven’t really said anything about it, but Garfield has had a real actual storyline going on for, like, two weeks or something now, and there are non-Garfield/Jon/Odie characters, and backgrounds other than the featureless void of Jon’s house, and dynamic tension and Jon even kisses a girl! The reason I haven’t said anything about this is that despite what appears to be some sort of real effort to inject some energy into the strip, it’s still excruciatingly lame and not funny. There, I said it. Sorry, Paws, Inc., toilers, but my reaction to this plotline has been a sort of tepid “Huh, that’s weird,” for about three seconds each day, promptly forgotten until the next day’s strip persists with the weirdness.

Meanwhile, much as so many of us love to hate For Better Or For Worse, it still undeniably drives passions. I have to admit rather shamefully that I’ve been totally involved in this week’s horrifying Liz-Anthony meet-cute at the car dealership, and I said a little cheer at Lizardbreath’s thought balloon which I hope — oh dear God of Canada PLEASE — means that she’s afraid of leading him on because she doesn’t want to break his heart again. Let him down easy now, Liz! For his good! For your good! FOR OUR GOOD!

Apartment 3-G, 7/28/06

“Hello! I’m Eric Mills. You know, I’m not the most attractive man in the world, I’m not really much of a dresser, and, let’s be honest, I frankly don’t have a personality that makes up for either of those factors. And yet I get more action than Don Juan and Casanova put together. I bet you’re wondering how I do it! Well, to find out all my secrets, you’ll need to subscribe to my once-a-month series of cassette tapes, Eric Mills Tells You How To Succeed With The Ladies. But let me give you an example of one of my sure-fire techniques now. Let’s say you’re at a party. What you do is, you find a halfway good-looking girl at the bar, and you check out how much she drinks. Does she drink a lot? Is she by herself? You’re in like flynn! The next thing you do is invite her out for lunch — an early lunch, if you can swing it — and get her good and drunk on whatever second-rate hard liquor she seems to like. I’ll tell you, gents, boozy floozies love it when you can remember their drug of choice; if you have to choose between keeping track of their mother’s name or whether they prefer Smirnoff or Absolut, go with the vodka. Anyway, by the end of the lunch, she’ll be way too drunk to go back to work, and as a gentleman you’ll have to walk her back to her apartment, and so … well, if you can’t take it from there, you need more help than I can give you!

“Oh, one more thing. Did I ever mention I’m a hat man? I love me a drunk girl in a hat. Yowza!”

Marvin, 7/28/06

So is this supposed to mean that Ming Ming has taken such a profoundly satisfying dump that she briefly transcended her individual consciousness and glimpsed a higher plane of reality? Or just that she’s pushed a certain amount of excrement “out” of her “body”? Either way, Marvin makes us long for last week, when it was just being racist.

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Apartment 3-G, 8/27/06

And New York loves you, Gina. Except for the part of New York that lives in your apartment building, whom you insist on insulting. Kids these days! With their hairy shirts and inability to filter their ids and whatnot. Still, we all should grateful for Gina, because her inappropriate blabbermouthery generated a rare triple head-bobble in panel four, though if Tommie isn’t secretly enjoying this display, I’ll eat Margo’s hat. Margo, meanwhile, gives us one moment of wounded vulnerability in panel five before launching a patented icy stare at the Professor in the final panel. Gina had better be taking notes right now.

Oh, and what the hell is going on with the word “Frida” randomly appearing on Tommie’s face in the first panel? Creepy. As. Hell. My guess: it’s a prison tattoo of the name of her girlfriend, who’s still on the “inside.” Watch out, Ted: she’s spoken for!

Judge Parker, 8/27/06

I don’t mean to harsh on the aesthetic endeavors of a pair of overpampered teenage girls, but I find Raju’s haircut, while an improvement over his old greaseball look, to be insufficiently hilarious. Clearly, we need to turn to a professional to get him Queer Eyed. Say, does Randy Parker have some spare time? I hear he’s not the marrying kind. If you know what I mean. And I think you do. No, not going to get married any time soon. No, sir.

Judge Parker seems to be jealous of Apartment 3-G’s newfound ability to keep several plot balls in the air at once, as it’s introducing yet another story thread: the case of the missing horse feed! I’m sure it will be riveting.

Mary Worth, 8/27/06

“Actually, it may be more than a plan, it may be a harebrained scheme!” If Toby’s plan involves Mary’s feminine wiles, a woodchipper, and a gross of industrial-strength Hefty bags, I for one will be a happy guy. Just don’t look directly at her shirt, or you’ll get seasick.

Marvin, 8/27/06

Aaaaand here come the Chinese child labor jokes.

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Marvin, 10/21/06

Behold, the first nice thing I’ve ever said about Marvin: whereas most comics engage in rampant grandparent worship, treating our elders as endlessly loving and patient repositories of wisdom and affection, Marvin dares to say what no one else will: that old people are just as likely to be as vain, self-serving, emotionally manipulative, gold-digging, and cranky as the rest of us. All of last week, Daddy Marvin’s mother held the Marvin household in a reign of terror, humiliating her daughter-in-law and emasculating her son; you can see the aftereffects of the visit in the numb stares of the entire family in panel one. Not even the wise-cracking baby has emerged from the ordeal with a shred of affection for the old bag intact.

Mary Worth, 10/21/06

Speaking of old bags, this Mary Worth reveals both why hospitals view volunteers as a double-edged sword and why adult children are sometimes uncomfortable with their parents’ new romantic partners: in both cases, once they’ve been around for a while, they start to act like they run the place. I’m particularly tickled by the Cory Wonder Twins’ stunned expression in the second panel: “Did … did that hag just order us to present ourselves to her at noon? Oh, hell no.”