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Apartment 3-G, 8/26/07

Oh my God, Tommie is a whore! And I don’t mean this in the usual misogynist sense of the word, implying that women who enjoy sex, perhaps with multiple partners, are to be stigmatized, while men who engage in similar activities are subject to manly approbation. No, I mean this literally, in the sense that her decisions about sexual activity are entirely determined by the possibilities of financial recompensation. Struggling theater dork? No! Moneyed computer dork? Yes! We see how it works, Tommie. All those people who keep sizing her up as she walks around thought-ballooning aren’t looking at her ass or seeing if she has toilet paper on her shoe; they’re thinking, “Can I afford her?”

Mary Worth, 8/26/07

Speaking of thought balloons, panel one of today’s Mary Worth, in which Dr. Drew spends an idle, distracted moment (possibly during surgery) imagining the severed heads of his two girlfriends eyeing each other suspiciously, is one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen.

I’ve been disappointed before by the soap opera comics (most recent example: the pathetic, deflated end to the initially so, so promising “Coach Kaz, P.I.” storyline in Gil Thorp), but I can’t conceive of circumstances under which the next few weeks of Mary Worth aren’t going to be absolutely hilarious. The Love Doctor uses his patented passive-aggressive-minus-the-aggression heartbreaking technique on Girlfriend #1, while firing on all cylinders to overcome the challenge of getting into the starched panties of Girlfriend #2, and both #1 and #2 live in the same building? Comedy gold, I tells ya. Of course, if any of his past, present, or future conquests find out that he conducts internal monologues about his love life studded with elaborate Star Trek metaphors, he’ll never have sex again.

Panel from Dennis the Menace, 8/26/07

Sunday’s Dennis the Menace is mostly unworthy of mention, except for this horrifying glimpse of a young Mr. Wilson, who resembles nothing so much as a pompadoured gnome.

And hey! A big shout-out to faithful reader Matt, who recognized me tonight when we were both attending and enjoying the latest Charm City Roller Girls bout. I’m pretty sure that this was the first time I’ve been spotted in public someplace where I hadn’t announced in advance that I’d be there (i.e., my weekend in NYC a couple of months ago doesn’t count). My wife actually has been recognized before, but then she leaves the house a lot more often than I do. Matt says he doesn’t post comments, but you may remember him as the recipient of a charming Aldomania-themed birthday greeting.

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Apartment 3-G, 8/24/07

“But if you won’t have dinner with me, I swear to God it’s all you’ll hear about for the next six months. Choose wisely.”

Gasoline Alley, 8/24/07

His elaborate meteorite scheme having failed to rid his neighborhood of African-American youth, Slim resorts to Plan B: Killing and eating them.

Judge Parker, 8/24/07

If Judge Parker went in for dramatic NEXT! boxes like Spider-Man and the Phantom, this strip could have one that read “NEXT! Render unto Caesar!” Or it could just play to its strengths and say “NEXT! More of Trudi’s ass!”

Pluggers, 8/24/07

Pluggers are a danger to good, honest citizens, and our weak-kneed liberal court system can’t protect us from them. Vigilante justice is the only answer.

Oh! Also, faithful reader Dub Not Dubya wants you to know that she got that picture of the Ziggyfish that I put up yesterday from this Website, which you should visit if you like pictures of odd-looking animals.

Also also! Chicago-area readers! Would you like to help faithful reader Dingo turn his talent for song parody into a free trip to Austria? You bet you do! Click here for details, and yell loudly!

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Gil Thorp, 8/22/07

So, well, uh, I guess my hopes that this might be interesting, or make any damn sense at all, have pretty much been dashed at this point. Way to hold up under pressure there, Cliff. “I didn’t do it!” “We followed you!” “Aw, hell.” I am pretty impressed by Gail’s look of unbridled rage there in panel three. You do not want to get on the wrong side of the rock and roll Carole King, I tell you what. I guess the real lesson here is that shady dudes with Fu Manchu mustaches and a record of drug offenses are actually pretty cool guys! They sure wouldn’t leave passive-aggressive notes scattered around; they’d just insult you to your face.

(But it still doesn’t add up! With the money he earned touring, Cliff was able to buy a van! A van!)

Mark Trail, 8/22/07

Meanwhile, smack dab in the middle of the future site of the Lost Forest Hot Topic, Homer the friendly construction worker is about to take a stand to protect some baby ducks from the ravenous jaws of your so-called “progress.” It should come as no surprise that our duck-loving bulldozer operator is clean-shaven, while the stench of evil rising from his coworker is as thick as his no doubt matted beard. Fortunately, Mark Trail will soon be on the scene to explain what he learned from Sam Hill: once the developers finish draining the wetlands, birds won’t want to lay their eggs there anymore, and the problem is solved!

Momma, 8/22/07

The following sentence is one that I never, ever wanted to write, but I suppose in retrospect it was inevitable, so here goes: The frank sexuality in today’s Momma is deeply disturbing to me. It’s already been implied that Francis fancies himself a ladies man, much to Momma’s disgust. Presumably she assumes (no doubt with good reason) that Francis’s inability to hold down gainful employment probably indicates that he’s unable to operate a prophylactic, and that she has dozens of bastard grandchildren all over town. You’d think she’d be a little excited about the prospect: grandkids are usually idée fixe #1 of the Mommas of the world; she’s got none to brag about down at the senior center, other than little Chucky, who hasn’t appeared since his fateful trip to the bar with Francis, when he was presumably traded for beer.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 8/22/07

I’m not going to touch the political content of today’s TDIET (“Public education: A necessary institution in an equitable society, or an insatiable money pit?”). Instead, I’m going to outline the lottery-themed TDIET I’d like to see:

Governor Honcho calls a press conference to crow when he busts up Vito’s little numbers racket…

(“Step right in, gentlemen! Why not put a bit of scratch on 17 red? Only 35-to-1 odds! You could … aw, cheese it! The fuzz!”)

…but then who d’ya see on TV trying to get you to put a buck on the Big Payoff Lottery Scratch-Off? Do you have to ask? I don’t think so!

(“Million-to-one odds … and you could be that one! Why not cash your Social Security check to buy more? Every dime goes to education! Etc … etc …”)

Apartment 3-G, 8/22/07

OK, now they’re just fucking with us, with the hair.