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Apartment 3-G, 8/21/09

Oh, Margo, I know that talking about the good times helps the healing process along, but describing your and Eric’s sex life in vivid terms will only serve to make everyone uncomfortable.

Ballard Street, 8/21/09

As a rule, I only mention Ballard Street, which generally depicts lunatics doing inscrutable things, when it’s particularly insane, and I certainly think that today’s installment, in which the McCullys are apparently eating their dog, qualifies.

Marmaduke, 8/21/09

In an attempt to put a stop to the damage that Marmaduke is doing to His creation, God Himself is attempting to melt the demon-hound with His divine radiance, with only partial success.

Ziggy, 8/21/09

This chef is attempting to get Ziggy high, on Robitussin.

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Hi and Lois, 8/20/09

You may think that the Orwellian reign of terror under which the Flagston children suffer is a bit excessive. The slightest infraction upon the parents’ arbitrary rules is met with CSI-level analysis, and presumably brutal punishment. “Someone spilled milk on the floor; fortunately, an elementary splatter analysis will tell us where they were sitting, which will bring us one step closer to the culprit!” “Who left the toilet seat up? I guess the only way to find out is DNA ANALYSIS.” But it all makes sense when you realize that Lois and Hi’s ultimate goal is to raise a family of master criminals for the international crime spree they’ve got planned. A few beatings today will keep them out of Interpol’s clutches tomorrow!

Mark Trail, 8/20/09

Speaking of master criminals, this not-assassin continues to improbably become a somewhat sympathetic character despite his crimes, possibly because he’s clean-shaven. “I just wanted to use possibly deadly violence to intimidate someone into not informing law enforcement about my mafia employers’ illegal activities! Is that so wrong? If that’s a crime, then lock me up, Mr. Strangely Affectless Khaki-Clad Individual.”

Apartment 3-G, 8/20/09

Hey, remember when Lu Ann’s boyfriend got killed, and everyone was walking on eggshells around her, and the Professor got called in to elicit warm, fuzzy memories about their time together? Me neither! Instead, they just shipped her out to South Dakota to be ignored for God knows how many months. Ha ha, sucks to not be Margo!

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Mary Worth, 8/18/09

See, this is what keeps drawing me back to Mary Worth year after year — the brief moments of terror amid the long stretches of boredom. Panel two seems to lurch at us directly out of some Escherian nightmare, with Delilah’s head and Lawrence’s hand looming impossibly large for the relative distances established in the first panel. And artistic trauma aside, I’m unsettled by Lawrence’s instinct to muffle whatever mildly simpering response Delilah’s about to come up with. “When we have kids, I’ll want to spend time raising them. It’s a more important job.” “I feel the same! But what about the loss of incMMMMFFFF!” “Hush, my beauty. I SAID I’LL BE SPENDING MY TIME RAISING THEM WHILE YOU LOOK ON IN ADORING SILENCE!”

Mark Trail, 8/18/09

Oh, bitter irony! Having trained for so long to merely wound and scare with his gun, our rifleman finds himself unable to finish off Mark, and instead sets loose an avalanche of toxic waster barrels that will crush him to pulp. Of course, if my many years of reading comics have taught me anything, it’s that the noxious chemicals will preserve his mangled body and grant him terrifying superpowers. Mark will return to his cabin with his usual smug grin, unaware that Lost Forest is being stalked by a monstrous orange supervillain: The Near Misser!

Rex Morgan, M.D., 8/18/09

If Becka’s look of mounting anxiety in the third panel is any indication, this half-assed flirting is going even worse than I had feared. “Oh, God, fly fishing? Really? This is awful. I gotta find one of those depressing demented people to chat with.”

Apartment 3-G, 8/18/09

Actually, Lu Ann, I think it’s more accurate to say that Tommie is socially awkward.