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Apartment 3-G, 5/8/11

As near as I’ve been able to tell, Trey has big plans to remake the Mills Gallery in a retro-Art Deco style, and has managed to convince his firm to underwrite the project rather than actually be paid by the client who will benefit from the makeover. Now, I’m as bored with both enormous, inhuman sheets of glass and exhaustingly whimsical Gehry-esque postmodernism as the next guy, but I’m not sure the solution is just to gin up some kind of throwback visual language and turn a perfectly nice art gallery into a slightly more upscale Johnny Rockets. And I’m definitely certain that anyone whose big idea for architecture revolves around nostalgia shouldn’t be displaying the sudden and unsettling delusions of grandeur that Trey is throwing off in the last two panels. Only one person in Apartment 3-G is allowed to indulge in that kind of unjustified megalomania, Trey, and you’d better ratchet back if you ever want to sleep with her again.

Spider-Man, 5/8/11

Ha ha, any day where Spider-Man gets bonked in the back of the head with a club-like object is a good one! But Martine shouldn’t be so proud of whatever vampire power she believes defeated our hero’s spider-sense, since the exact same attack has in the past been successfully executed by some random criminal henchman and a snooty butler, neither of which were undead bloodsuckers, as near as anyone could tell.

Family Circus, 5/8/11

Ha ha, Mommy! Your worry-wart fantasy shows that you’re starting from a false premise: You apparently believe that your family is taking you to a nice restaurant for Mother’s Day. There’s no need to dress the kids in nice shirts — or indeed in any shirts at all — if you’re just ordering at the drive-through window!

Panels from Hagar the Horrible, 5/8/11

In other news, Hagar’s wife Helga appears to have completely lost it.

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Spider-Man, 5/5/11

I was about to give this dreary Spider-Man vampire plot credit for its first genuine bit of horror, as Martine and Morbius’s eyes are suddenly and without explanation transformed into awful, toothy mouths, but then I realized that their pupils have just turned into bats — very, very crudely drawn bats — and it’s supposed to be, like, symbolic or whatever.

Apartment 3-G, 5/5/11

Ha, and now that Trey’s softened up the old man, Margo comes in to apply some brutality. “I hope the money’s coming from Herriman and Fowler! Just make that check out to ‘Trey and Margo’s sex vacation fund,’ or my associate here will be forced to do terrible, terrible things to you, and not the fun kind.”

Funky Winkerbean, 5/5/11

Have you been thinking, “Damn it, I wish Les would stop toying with these two women who for unexplainable reasons are attracted to him and just pick one to share his lovemaking stylings with”? Well, I’ll bet you’re sorry now.

Mark Trail, 5/5/11

As Mark squirmed into his cocoon, he thought of the many long-haired and bearded men whom he had defeated via fisticuffs over the years. But little did he know that he would soon be facing his greatest nemesis ever: Jesus Christ.

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Apartment 3-G, 4/28/11

Gosh, I don’t know, Tommie, maybe it’s because he’s drawn to look exactly like every other non-Dan Diller walk-on male character in Apartment 3-G? I’m much less interested in you déjà vu/first inklings of the extreme shallowness of your universe’s gene pool than I am in Dan Diller’s suddenly obvious sandwich addiction. As this picture shows (and, side note, don’t browse through Wikipedia’s American sandwiches category while you’re hungry, by the way), the reuben is not a sandwich to be treated lightly, and surely most people don’t order their next reuben with the Thousand Island Dressing from the previous one still moist in their beard. Like Wilbur Weston, Dan needs a serious sandwich intervention.

Peanuts, 4/28/11

Yes, it’s a slow day in the comics when I’m tackling Classic Peanuts, but … Linus should really be thankful for his frizzy hair, as nobody likes it when a little kid shows up to a party looking uncannily like Hitler.