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Apartment 3-G, 10/26/09

Oh my goodness, is flowzy floozy Bobbie Merrill trying to worm her way into my heart, or does this sort of behavior just come naturally to the pill-addled blonde? She knows how the world works, of course — you send a gift basket to the crooked head-shrinker who’ll write a script for whatever it is you’re jonesing for when you show off some ankle; that much is given. But that doesn’t mean that she has to like how the sordid game is played, or that she has to make nice with the gift basket industry that profits from these little social niceties or the concierges who piggyback on for the ride and expect their own cut. No, Bobbie has bigger fish to fry, and by “bigger fish” she means “a tractor-trailer full of Ambien,” and by “fry” she means “rob at gunpoint.”

Mark Trail, 10/26/09

You know what would be completely hilarious and rad? If Mark were really serious about leaving the swamp tomorrow without even a cursory attempt to track down the poachers vigilante-style and punch them. “Sorry, fellas, I’m on vacation! You can kill and skin all the alligators you want, see if I care.”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/26/09

Wait a minute, Baldy “Punk Rocker” “Earrings” McPunky O’Thug’s real name (or real nickname) is Cue? As in a cue ball, which is white and spherical, much like Cue’s head? This is the greatest moment in Rex Morgan Sinister Bad Guy Billiards-Related Naming since the appearance of a black drug dealer named Eightball.

Presumably Cue will learn from his offscreen media-savvy friend that there’s a big reward out for these runaways, and will heroically drive them back to their substandard nursing home, where he’ll be lauded at a press conference and receive the key to the city from the mayor. Meanwhile, Becka and Tim will continue to drive aimlessly around soggy golf courses, staying out so late that Becka’s husband will suspect her of infidelity, leading to further marital turmoil, divorce, and emotional anguish. You may think that sounds harsh, but I want every non-Cue, non-Alzheimers-afflicted character in this story to suffer terribly. Even Rex and June should be punished, for abandoning us to this mess.

Funky Winkerbean, 10/26/09

“Things can always get worse” = the new Funky Winkerbean mission statement, obviously. The only question: is that cop ringing the doorbell to announce that Cory’s dead, or that one or more people are dead because Cory killed them?

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Jumble, 10/22/09

If you remember the first batch of WWMMD pictures, you knew that eventually I’d be put in chains at the behest of a corrupt justice system in the Jumble. You can see by my face that I’m shocked at this miscarriage of justice. How could I possibly be found guilty, when I know that I’m innocent? Does my snappy Fist O’ Justice shirt count for nothing? What monstrous jury pool would be capable of such cruelty? Faithful readers, while newspaper readers only got part of the story, I am authorized to share with you the entire courtroom scene:

I … I know I should have hired a lawyer with more courtroom experience. I’m pretty sure he was just doodling on his legal pads all through voir dire.

Blondie, 10/22/09

Here’s the thing, Blondie: If you don’t want to draw attention to your status as an ancient relic from another decade, it may be best not to build a strip around the fact that your main character usually struts about in an outfit that nobody in living memory has worn outside of the most formal situations, and you’ll particularly want avoid equipping him with another set of clothes that, despite his cheery statements to the contrary, would not make anyone in his probable 35-to-50 age range feel “young.” Nevertheless, I’m willing to give you a pass because chubby Dithers in a Nehru jacket is in fact pretty hilarious.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/22/09

So earlier this week, I noted that it would be an amusing improvement on the current RMMD storyline if Tim proved to be a sinister kidnapper. However, I’m even more pleased at the current plot direction into horrible social discomfort. Now that Peanuts is no longer being produced, there are very few places in the comics where you can see painful interpersonal awkwardness so deliciously drawn out until it makes you cringe. I look forward to the next several days’ worth of strips after this clumsy pass consisting mostly of silence — frosty in the passenger seat, humiliated on the driver’s side.

Apartment 3-G, 10/22/09

Speaking of awkwardness, this Apartment 3-G storyline is just getting better and better. Remember, the funniest Tommie storylines are the ones where she’s casually insulted!

Slylock Fox, 10/22/09

I’m assuming the parents in these Six Differences panels have commissioned some kind of report from their children on the pros and cons of various domestic pets. Despite their big smiles, I can’t imagine they’re all that pleased to see that the kids are just drawing on big pieces of paper. What is this, the ’80s? If you really want to make an impression, you want to set up a PowerPoint presentation, with animal clip art and ungrammatical bullet points about why dogs and/or cats are awesome. How do you kids expect to succeed as white-collar drones? Sorry, you’re getting a turtle.

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Beetle Bailey, 10/20/09

Look, Sarge, we all know that you’re excited about the promised repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, and look forward to the day when you will no longer have to use “cake” as a code word for “sodomy.” But sexual couplings of all possible gender combination will still be banned by Army regulations in any facility where food is served. That’s just a hygiene issue.

Apartment 3-G, 10/20/09

OH MY GOD TOMMIE MAKEOVER STORYLINE! We’ve all been calling for Tommie’s character to be remade; now we’ll get to see her be literally made over by fashion professionals. At the end of the process, she’ll look great, but she’ll still be Tommie, so nobody will like her; a valuable and depressing lesson will be learned by all.

Lockhorns, 10/20/09

I’m not sure what’s more likely here: that Loretta has poisoned Leroy and left his putrefying corpse on the couch as a reminder of her ultimate triumph, or that just died peacefully in his sleep, of ennui, and Loretta’s been so emotionally deadened by years of marriage to him that she hasn’t worked up the energy to call the morgue yet.