Archive: Apartment 3-G

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B.C., 3/16/07

Ha ha! It’s funny because his wife talks a lot, and he’s tired of it, even though he presumably knew she talked a lot when he married her, so he’s got her tied up in the basement with duct tape over her mouth!

Wait, did I say “funny”? Because I meant “horribly offensive.” But see, when he calls her some 19th century term of abuse like “magpie,” it’s all old-timey, so we can just ignore it. Ha ha, that Johnny Hart! That crusty old hateful bastard! Ha!

Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/16/07

Wait, now hold on just a darn minute. Niki might be pretty good at garage cleaning and such, but there is one — exactly one — person in this neck of the woods who works on fence-related issues. One. And I think we all know who that is:

Hopefully, that’s him at the door right now, to set things straight and present a grossly inflated estimate.

(Baffled Rex-Morgan-readers-come-lately should check out this classic post.)

Apartment 3-G, 3/16/07

You know what offends me about Apartment 3-G? It’s set in New York, right? Now, I don’t live there, but I do love the place. It’s one of those cities in the world that has a really strong sense of place: if you’re there, you know you’re there, and nowhere else. Unless, of course, you’re in Apartment 3-G, which could take place literally anywhere that’s full of tall buildings and white people. The Apartment 3-G girls never take the subway, or a taxi. (Even Neddy and Abbey are taking the Paris Métro, for God’s sake.) They never eat at any of the many famous, recognizable restaurants at their disposal. Starving artist Lu Ann never visits any of the world-class art galleries. And Neil is getting great reviews in the “local press.” I think the world could handle the name of one or more of the major New York papers, people. You can look them up on the Internet even.

Mark Trail, 3/16/07

YEARRRRGGGHH HUGE SOULLESS TERRIFYING EYES SCARY SCARY SCARY NOOOOOOOO

Mary Worth, 3/16/07

YEARRRRGGGHH MARY INQUIRING ABOUT SOMEBODY’S SEX LIFE SCARY SCARY SCARY NOOOOOOOO

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Mary Worth, 3/12/07

So Mary Worth’s storyline seems to have finally given up, and I say good riddance. It could never really figure out what it was supposed to be about — fortune telling and condo association rules? Agent Orange? a battle for biddy supremacy? Mary’s latent guilt? Mary’s latent love for Jeff? tuna casserole? As Ella drives off, presumably to her death, we can only hope that more interesting things, or at least more coherent things, are in the cards.

And call me a hopeless optimist, but I’m guessing they are! “Hi there! I’m Gropy McGrabass, and I’m an up-and-comer here at Creepy Lack Of Affect Advertising Agency! You must be the new person here, right? I bet you haven’t had your sexual harassment seminar yet! It’s a load of bullcrap, trust me! Hey, mind if I rest my hand on your rear end for the next three to six months?”

Non Sequitur, 3/12/07

Well, I live in Baltimore, actually, but it’s true that I’m not afraid to point out blatant payola wherever I may find it. So don’t try to silence me, oppressive gears of international capitalism, and don’t try to buy me off!

Wait, did I say “don’t try to buy me off”? I meant “do.” Really! Do!

It sounds like an urban legend, but it’s an absolutely true story: One of my wife’s co-workers had a baby a few years ago, and when she (my wife) was visiting her (her co-worker) at the hospital, another proud mom in the maternity ward reported that her husband needed to figure out how to spell their new daughter’s name, so he had just run over to the liquor store to copy it down from a bottle of Courvoisier. Because everyone should be named after whatever substance contributed most directly to their conception.

Marmaduke and Ziggy, 3/12/07

Today, two single-panel standbys took on an intriguing question: can a relatively lame and somewhat puzzling joke be made funnier by the addition of donuts, which some might argue to be an inherently amusing food? The answer is clearly “no”, but it’s nice to see them trying new things.

Does it make me a bad person to think that “the Donut Hole” is an almost unspeakably filthy name for a business? It’s not as bad as “the Bucket,” but still.

Slylock Fox, 3/12/07

Glow-in-the-dark paint? I’m afraid Shady Shrew’s a lot shadier than that: that’s a big pile of radioactive waste, and our soricomorphic friend is a terrorist dirty bomber as well as a perpetrator of televised consumer fraud.

What the hell kind of home shopping network allows its vendors make crude, hand-painted signs for their wares? The kind that doesn’t have a geiger counter, apparently.

Apartment 3-G, 3/12/07

Going by Tommie’s facial expression, I’m guessing she’s all kinds of not listening to Margo. Not that it matters, because, as the greatest omniscient narration box in the history of omniscient narration boxes tells us, “Back at 3-G, Margo’s happiness is undiminished!” Pretty much every installment of this strip that features Margo could include that box, actually; just substitute “rage” for “happiness” if she’s in her other mood, and you’d be all set.

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Apartment 3-G, 3/9/07

You know, I’ve made fun of Apartment 3-G for being sexless, but I may have to revise that assessment; today’s strip contains a fairly blatant invitation for a quick pre-business-trip Chinese-food-and-screwing session. I’m glad to see that Eric is still attracted to Margo after she’s revealed her hideously mutated claw-hand in panel three.

Archie, 3/9/07

Uh oh! It looks like the Archie-Joke-Generating-Laugh-Unit 3000 is malfunctioning! I’m assuming that “secret” in the first panel is some kind of typo (writo?) for “great”, since it doesn’t make sense in context, and the third panel is clearly supposed to repeat the line from the first. There’s always a few bugs in the system!

Blondie, 3/9/07

Hey, do you know what the least appropriate day would be on which to run a comic that revolves around it being “a brand-new week”? That’s right, Friday!

Hey, do you know what day it is today?

Mary Worth, 3/9/07

Man, you sure don’t have to say much to make Mary Worth feel good about herself. Look at her facial expression and body language in the second panel; it’s like an apotheosis of smugness. “Why … I did! I saved Jeff’s life! I’m a hero! I’m the greatest hero in American history!”

Dennis the Menace, 3/9/07

THAT’S RIGHT, MR. WILSON, YOU TELL ‘EM! BLACK POWER! BLACK POWER!