Archive: Apartment 3-G

Post Content

Apartment 3-G, 12/10/06

In an attempt to recapture the magic of one of the greatest Apartment 3-Gs in recent memory, Lu Ann is taking a magical trip to the world-renowned New York City public library. She’s looking for knowledge, but she’s sadly found only another romantic interest, albeit one who, with his reddish hair, glasses, and marginally softer features, is distinguishable from the classic boring A3G male type. Our bookworm is so deeply and erotically charged by Lu Ann’s mere presence that, in order to win her attention and affections, he’s transgressing the ultimate librarian taboo and actually shouting in the library.

Blondie, 12/10/06

I’m going to pass over the little drama of burning jealousy and suppressed lust that makes up the supposedly innocent humor of this strip today and just point out that the two throwaway panels at the top — which aren’t used in some layouts and thus need to be removable — are the biggest “fuck you” to the very concept of throwaway panels I’ve ever seen. Since their expressions are unchanged in all three, I can only assume that our young hunk was leering at Blondie, and Dagwood was raging inwardly, and Blondie was feeling genuine sexual arousal for the first time in years, for the entire time it took for them to walk the length of a city block.

Judge Parker, 12/10/06

I don’t mean to be a killjoy. I certainly wouldn’t want to deny us, the long-suffering readers of Judge Parker, the genuine pleasure to be had in Celeste Black’s spectacular drunken meltdown, or in Reggie’s ineffectual response. I’m not sure if I’m willing to forgive Sam and Randy’s smug satisfaction, however. After all, having an insane lush for a wife shouldn’t disqualify one for the bench per se; neither of course, should bachelorhood and/or homosexuality, which is why Reggie has clearly brought this upon himself. But there’s still a little thing called HIPAA that’s there for a reason. My prediction is that we’re going to find out that Horace is working as some kind of freelance ultra-low-rent Karl Rove and leaked this information to the press, and that Randy, distancing himself from old-time machine politics, will have to Do The Right Thing and sever ties with his old family friend, possibly by having his CIA agent girlfriend murder him in his sleep.

(For those keeping track, incidentally, this Sunday strip is the work of the temporarily unavailable Eduardo Baretto, as Sundays need to be prepared a few weeks in advance of the weeklies.)

Mary Worth, 12/10/06

You know, we all got very jazzed up about Mary during the glory and excitement that was Aldomania. But this strip reminds us what Mary Worth is and truly ought to be all about: relentless petty outrage over stupid, meaningless things. That and pointing. Lots and lots of vigorous pointing. I love Mary’s look of surprise in the final panel, and Ella’s attempt to put on her “Who me? I’m a harmless old lady! Ha ha!” face. Ian, resplendent as always in his Astroturf jacket, is unimpressed by Dent’s j’accuse: he seems to be thinking, “Look buddy, last month I was an accomplice to murder, and condo board power plays do not impress me any more.”

Fun game for the coming months: In how many upcoming Mary Worth installments will we be able to construe Gary Dent’s rambling diatribes as accusations that Ella is a prostitute?

Beetle Bailey, 12/10/06

This installment of “How to turn a public domain Department of Defense informational pamphlet about the Pentagon into a comic strip and still make your 1 p.m. tee time” has been brought to you by Beetle Bailey.

Post Content

Mary Worth, 12/5/06

“That’s right, I won’t stop there! I’m also going to break out into this elaborately choreographed dance routine! ‘Hey fella … don’t see Ella … that’s my advice to yoooouuuuu … She’s no psychic … you won’t like it … She’s crazy, she’s old … and something of a scold!'”

I can’t wait to see what sort of devastating rumors ol’ Tom Dewey’s going to be spreading about Charterstone’s resident psychic advisor. “Hey guys, you know that 92-year-old woman living in the condo complex who I went to for psychic advice on my complex business dealings? Well it turns out she’s crazy! No, she’s crazy! No … what are you laughing at?”

Pluggers, 12/5/06

I’m going to pass quickly over the sub-Foxworthyism that is the joke in today’s Pluggers (“If your working mailbox sits inside your non-working mailbox, you might be a plugger”) to snicker snidely at the name of the Muncy, PA, resident who sent this in. Please, somebody tell me that this is a cruel joke perpetrated by central PA hipsters, or some kind of down-home country cultural reference of which I as a city-dwelling elite snot am ignorant, rather than somebody’s actual name. What I’m trying to say is, if you name your son “Chubby Fry,” you might be a plugger, and you’re definitely determined to make sure that he’s a plugger.

Zits and Dick Tracy, 12/5/06

I offer these two strips to showcase how the comics treats delivery personnel stumbling into wacky comics-style situations. For reasons too boring for me to go into here, the Tracys have had their minds erased for Dr. Froid’s sinister purposes and Jeremy is naked. Now, I’m not an expert on automatic-rifle-handling techniques, but I’m kind of dubious about the way that the Brinks man on the left is holding his weapon in panel two of Dick Tracy. I’m pretty sure that the only time I’ve ever seen anyone wielding a gun like that was when he was standing in the back of a pickup truck with a bunch of other guys on their way to seize the city’s central marketplace from a rival clan’s militia.

As for the clotheslessness dilemma, I have to say that I don’t think the thought of my girlfriend “accidentally” finding me naked in high school would have traumatized me as much as it apparently does Jeremy. I’m not saying anything good or non-scarring would have come of that had it actually happened, but I think I would have been more open to it before the fact.

Apartment 3-G, 12/5/06

You know, both Mary Worth and Apartment 3-G are heavily into supernaturally-themed storylines right now — just in time for six weeks late for Halloween! Personally, I think Lu Ann’s found her perfect man: dedicated, distant, and invisible. Mostly, the Amazing Tale Of The Mysterious Haunted Studio is reminding me how damn boring the Lu Ann plots are. I think I speak for us all when I say: bring on Margo and Eric’s wacky antics, which should play out like a methed-up version of The Lady Eve. Even glum Tommie’s stories have a mopey grandeur compared to this goofy twaffle.

Spider-Man, 12/5/06

Trust me, you do not want to know what just happened in that van.

Post Content

Funky Winkerbean, 11/29/06

You know, suddenly this is the first Funky Winkerbean sequence I’ve unironically enjoyed since I rejoined the new gloomed up version of the strip. I love the musical notes floating in the air — is it stripper music? Is it Christmas music? Is it somehow, wonderfully, both? I love the way that Santa’s thick black belt, such an iconic part of his thoroughly asexual garb, has suddenly been transformed with a vague aura of S&M. But mostly, I love the way that everyone is leering at sexy Santa with naked lust — except for the mother-to-be, who looks on in unalloyed horror, as if only she can see how very, very wrong this is, and she’s thinking, “My God, has everyone else gone insane?

Apartment 3-G, 11/29/06

Wow, so yesterday when I guessed that this was Alan’s beatnik buddy I was pretty much kidding, but it looks like it actually is … I think. Just like I think that’s Alan in panel three in the cowboy hat. Or maybe it’s Lu Ann’s cousin Blaze, who’s partial to cowboy wear. Or even Eric Mills, whose Hat Man tendencies might go both ways, if you catch my drift. God damn, this feature would be easier to follow if the men didn’t all look a alike.

Dennis the Menace, 11/29/06

Dennis further erodes his Menace status by getting a co-ed group together and then playing the least threatening game of doctor in the history of prepubescence. Joey, meanwhile, is looking more like a child prostitute with every appearance in this strip.

Judge Parker, 11/29/06

You know, I remember the good old days, when the press would focus on the issues, like the fact that Randy Parker is unmarried and therefore almost certainly a homosexual and thus totally unfit for the bench, instead of feeding the politics of personal destruction and mentioning the fact that the totally heterosexual and not at all gay Reggie Black’s wife’s breath stinks of liquor. Jackals!

Luann, 11/29/06

Wait, Brad was planning on painting his living room black? Did he buy a blacklight and some Cypress Hill posters too? Did he think he was going to star in a spinoff strip called Brad and TJ Are Really, Really High All The Time?

Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/29/06

When did June become the villain in a Dickens novel? And when did Rex Morgan start shilling for McDonald’s?