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Apartment 3-G, 4/6/13

Hey, remember, like, two weeks ago, when Margo was in love with James Bond and sadly kissing him goodbye before he headed off to England for filming? Well, that was then and this is now, and now the governor is hot and single and she’s gonna bang him.

Archie, 4/6/13

So one thing you might not know about me is that I really, really hate it when people at movies or concerts talk or make noise, but I’m also a coward and hate confrontation, so I generally just seethe inwardly at them. That’s why I feel a kinship with the red-headed dude in the row behind Jughead. That’s right, buddy! If you just roll your eyes hard enough, he’s bound to notice eventually!

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Better Half, 3/27/13

Seeing “FOOD COURT” in big letters like this gave me a brainstorm for a hit new reality show, Food Court, in which an ersatz jurist in a black robe would preside over faux trials in which, say, snacks that claim to be “healthy” would be cross-examined by medical experts who would prove that their sodium levels were off the charts and nutritive value was essentially nil. But then I saw the guy in the background in the vaguely Renaissance outfit, and I imagined Food Court, a historical comedy-drama in which a 15th century Italian prince rules over a Italian statelet and spends his time mediating the sometimes violent battles between rival restauranteurs. These ruminations were fairly inane, admittedly, but surely no worse than whatever Stanley is babbling about. Harriet is right to ignore him and look at whatever fun thing is on her phone instead.

Apartment 3-G, 3/27/13

Haha, I love how quickly Margo has gone from caffeinated semi-enthusiasm to heavy-lidded ennui. “So, this is about money? You want me to write you a check? If I get my checkbook out, that will shut you up about whatever do-gooder nonsense you’re on about, and I get to eat breakfast in peace?”

Judge Parker, 3/27/13

“We’ll both have the salmon with a caesar salad, Rudy … I’m buying, which means I get to make all the decisions! I’ll thank you not to address Mr. Driver by name or look directly at him for the duration of this meal. All lunch-related queries go through me, the paymaster.”

Archie, 3/27/13

Wait, but wouldn’t Archie’s dad have noticed the hamsters squeaking and moving around if they were alivAAAUUGH DON’T THINK ABOUT IT DON’T THINK ABOUT IT

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Archie, 3/7/13

Here’s a sentence that’s probably never been written: I don’t understand Archie’s emotional arc here? Veronica’s dialogue in panel one is stereotypical “Ha ha the ladies like to gossip about their network of relationships with other ladies and we hate that amiright fellas” talk. But what are Archie’s sweatballs in panel one supposed to represent? Is he already nervous about being cruelly snubbed by Ronnie for daring to ask for some quiet study time? That would seem to undercut the vague surprise of the punchline, then. Is it sexual arousal, always a good bet with Archie? Is he saying that the reality of Veronica’s conversation is interfering with his ability to think sexy thoughts about her? Those word-balloon icicles are perhaps well deserved.

Hagar the Horrible, 3/7/13

So, mild historical accuracy: It’s true, that, in their colonization of Greenland in the 10th through 15th centuries, the Norse came in contact with the Inuit! Inuit names tend to be polysyllabic, though, and not, you know, incoherent grunts, but sure, let’s have Hagar talking to “Oog.” And let’s give Oog slits for eyes too! Why not!

Heathcliff, 3/7/13

Unironic praise: Nearly everything about this is perfect, from the fish-costume’s terrifying eyes and weird fin-feet that would be very difficult to stand up in, to Heathcliff just standing there with his hands behind his back, dreaming of ripping open the great fish and feasting on its hundreds of pounds of succulent flesh, to the bored dude with the hair in his eyes inside the costume, who isn’t being paid enough to deal with any of it.

The Lockhorns, 3/7/13

“But I’ve finally managed to poison mine! Now help me move his body to the car so we can go dump him in the river.”