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Gil Thorp, 2/10/09

Shocking developments in Gil Thorp! We’ve learned that Dylan was a teenage stick-up artist, and that Brenda is trying to have it both ways: she wants to imagine that he’s reformed (“But that was more than 30 months ago! Now you’re a slightly older teenager, and somewhat less immature! After what I presume to be some kind of punishment, surely you’ve completely changed!”) while he gives her the sort of half-assed tough-guyisms that keep the girls coming back. YOU KNEW HE HAD A SOUL PATCH WHEN YOU MET HIM, BRENDA! WHAT SORT OF MAN DID YOU EXPECT HIM TO BE?

Meanwhile, Bryce is making himself noticed in the locker room, if by “making himself noticed” you mean “rambling on egomaniacally while literally every other person in the room ostentatiously ignores him.” Frankly, more sarcastic narration boxes can only help this feature.

Gasoline Alley, 2/10/09

I’m not interested in rehashing the last God knows how many weeks of Gasoline Alley, which have mostly served as a primer for diner lingo; just take my word for it that, as a side benefit, they have also involved Slim’s humiliation and failure. Slim is the only Gasoline Alley character for whom I can work up any feelings whatsoever, and those feelings are equal parts distaste and disgust; still, I do have to respect the sadness of the second panel of today’s strip, in which the food-addicted man-child’s suddenly crumpled face reflects a moment of terrible self-knowledge. Because of said disgust and distaste, though, such moments are like catnip to me, and Slim reasserts his usual mode of being (belligerent ignorance) in panel three, reinforcing my prejudice against him.

Apartment 3-G, 2/10/09

You might think that Tommie and Gary’s incredibly awkward verbal sparring — it’s like Tracy and Hepburn, if both Tracy and Hepburn were half-thinking about something else, and neither was a native speaker of English — isn’t going to lead to romance, and you’d be right. Still, it appears that Gary has fulfilled his primary mission: to distract Tommie with his clumsy banter, and use her distraction as an opportunity to steal her tea. Presumably he’ll soon be on his way.

Mark Trail, 2/10/09

OH MY GOODNESS! BUCKY IS THE RISEN CHRIST-DEER! AND PATTY IS MARY MAGDALENE! AND … you know what, I think I’m going to stop riiiight about there.

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Apartment 3-G, 2/9/09

And once again, the biggest laugh in today’s comics comes from Apartment 3-G, which isn’t even trying, I don’t think. Tommie, we all appreciate your fumbling attempts to be theatrically sarcastic, but if you’re going to respond to Margo’s orders to clean by tying on some kind of troubling sassy-black-maid kerchief and then dusting in a passive-aggressively half-assed fashion, you should really save it for when Margo is actually there; otherwise, it’s just kind of pathetic.

Mark Trail, 2/9/09

In last Friday’s thrilling Mark Trail, Ken appeared to have missed Patty’s special deer friend, merely scaring it off into the woods; today, though, poor Bucky has been laid low by what looks to be a bullet that our crack shot/abusive monster managed to place right between his eyes. (Admittedly, it’s hard to tell because the entire animal, including the eyes and antlers, has been slathered over with a uniform coat of Light Brown #2.)

Ken is showing us the sort of deft timing that has kept his marriage fresh; everyone knows that you should follow up a little light physical battery and the killing of a beloved pet with an impromptu business trip, to give the little woman time to realize that she wants more of what you’re selling. And surely the best way to get her to forget about that deer is to leave its mouldering corpse fifteen feet from your back porch.

Judge Parker, 2/9/09

“With this unreasonably large advance for my unreadable book, I’ll finally manage to dispel the whiff of the upper middle class that has stubbornly clung to me all these years! At last, my dreams of being ensconced firmly among the socioeconomic elite have been realized!”

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The Phantom, 2/8/09

So the Ghost-Who-Dabbles-In-Social-Work has been dishing out some “tough love” to former city street tough Kani, which has consisted of good healthy jungle fun like sexy diaper boxing. Kani was sentenced to Bangalla’s juvenile justice system because he served as a lookout in an armed robbery; thus, I think it would be extra hilarious if the Phantom is now taking him along on a mission to steal whatever goods are in this isolated farmhouse. “What? Where do you think I get the money to keep myself in purple spandex and saddle oil and ammunition? Do you think those cone-hatted dudes are paying me? Please.”

Judge Parker, 2/8/09

Retiring Judge Parker is cowering in his basement, desperate as usual to avoid an appearance in his own namesake comic strip; presumably he’s hoping that once his son Randy has been officially handed the gavel, ensuring the continued existence of another Judge Parker, he can slip out the back door and never again be held responsible for anything that happens here. I am kind of amused by his grim expression in the final panel as he’s being told about the enormous book advance that will soon be his for no good reason. “Damn it, I wanted to know that this check was causing that bastard Cheathem real physical pain when I cashed it! Now that he’s dead and in hell … well, it’s just not the same.”

Mary Worth, 2/8/09

The idea that every single Mary Worth storyline from here on in is going to end with some dude making an incredibly awkward pass at her has filled me with so much glee that I’m willing to ignore the fact that this Olympic skating training center apparently has an occasional “free skate” period. Anyway, “Let’s just enjoy this moment of freedom on the ice” might sound like a sort-of polite way to tell Frank to shut his horny piehole, but I prefer to think of it as an invitation to cop a feel. “Remember, Frank, what happens on the ice stays on the ice!”

Hi and Lois, 2/8/09

The most pathetic aspect of Hi’s midlife crisis fantasy is not that it involves golf; it’s that it apparently centers on someone at long last calling him “mister.” The fact that he can only imagine someone calling him “mister” in a golfing context is the sad foundation on which the whole shameful thing rests.

Blondie, 2/8/09

“They’ve decided to worship you as a god, and are constructing a monstrous idol in our yard! Isn’t it adorable?”

Panel from Apartment 3-G, 2/8/09

It appears that, in today’s final panel, Margo has uttered the ultimate Margo-ism. Now if she’s running short on time but needs to assert herself, she can just quickly refer everyone to this panel before moving on to her next victim.