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Apartment 3-G, 9/23/06

Ah, Eric Mills, engaging in a little art discussion with Lu Ann! Say, is something looking a little … different about this art impresario and Hat Man since last we saw him?

I know, I know, it’s the coloring mules’ fault, but I prefer one of the following explanations instead:

• Eric Mills realized that he’s got to stay “young” and “hip” if he wants to get involved in the New York avant-garde art scene. Signing Lu Ann and her faux-Victorian fern drawings is a good start, but if he wants anyone in the art world to take him seriously, he’s got to dye his hair blonde. Unfortunately, he’s too cheap to go to a salon and tried to do it with nobody’s help but Miss Clairol, which resulted in that sort of orangey color that really dark hair gets when its been inexpertly dyed.
• Eric Mills is a chameleon shapeshifter. His hair changes color to match the tresses of whatever young lady he’s trying to bed. Today’s strip indicates that Lu Ann and Margo’s fight over him is pointless, as he’s really after Tommie.
• Eric Mills has “mood hair.”

Anyway, Margo is sure not winning any points with her ludicrously petulant behavior. What with her pouting, her bossiness, her demands for attention, and her lack of the sort of social skills that most of us learn in kindergarten — well, she’d better hope that Eric Mills is into four-year-olds. Wait, that came out wrong.

Mary Worth, 9/23-4/06

Now … now see here, people. Aldo is not dead, OK? He … he can’t be dead. I’m sure he’s just … terribly injured. Terribly, terribly, passive-aggressively injured. When the jaws of life pulled his shattered body out of his smashed, smoldering car, I’m sure the first words out of his mouth were “Mary … Worth,” which is why the cops called her. His second words were “Where’s … my … booze?”

Saturday’s strip also offered a revealing look at the home life of Professor and Mrs. Chinbeard. Grading papers, snotty putdowns, bumper sticker quotes, endless hair brushing to avoid getting into bed with that smug bastard … it all goes a long way towards explaining Toby’s emotionally deadened look in Sunday’s final panel.

For Better Or For Worse, 9/24/06

This made me throw up in my mouth a little bit.

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Faithful reader and commentor jonnya created this charming video on YouTube, so I thought I’d post it here for those of you too lazy to read the comments and click on the links.

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Apartment 3-G, 9/18/06

OK, look at the swivel lines in panel three, and compare to Margo’s head position in panel two. Either Margo briefly looked away from Lu Ann, then swung her head back to look at her in a classic doubletake that I feel very cheated for being denied (maybe she indignantly sprayed her coffee across the room at the same time?) or her head has spun completely around on its axis, Exorcist-style. Hell hath no fury like a Hat Man lover scorned!

Also: a stripey purple V-neck under a mauve vest is “dressing up” now? I sure didn’t get that memo.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 9/18/06

I love the fact that the patented TDIET-style outrage is being wielded entirely on the side of the couple who shuns personal interaction in favor of the warm, numbing glow of the television set. “Didjaevernotice: People invite you over to spend some quality time with ya … and insist on talking to you while the TV is on! Wha-a-a-a?”

Popeye, 9/18/06

I know I don’t talk about Popeye very much, but you should be kept appraised of the fact that it’s completely demented. There’s been this long, meandering “generation gap” storyline involving Sweetpea insisting that adults don’t understand him (don’t trust anyone over seven, man!), which, other than the fact that Sweetpea can apparently talk, didn’t faze me too much. But then he ran away from home, and Popeye was disconsolate, and Olive Oyl made a fake Sweetpea doll too fool Popeye and it worked. Today’s deranged strip pretty much speaks for itself in terms of how far around the bend this feature has gone, sort of the way a crazy homeless guy who’s constantly raving about OJ and the CIA and killer monkeys speaks for himself.

Hi and Lois, 9/18/06

My wife says that the joke here is that the baby doesn’t understand irony, but I don’t think that’s possible, because Hi and Lois doesn’t understand irony either.