Archive: Baldo

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Apartment 3-G, 10/7/08

Haley is so weak from dope-sickness that she can’t even sigh aloud; she can only think the word “sigh.”

Baldo, 10/7/08

Baldo’s sexual services only merit a B-.

Luann, 10/7/08

To everyone who’s been writing to Greg Evans and United Features Syndicate demanding to see Brad’s nipples: I hope you’re happy now, you bastards.

Pluggers, 10/7/08

A plugger moves through life leaving a trail of failure and economic ruin in his wake.

Beetle Bailey, 10/7/08

Otto has been “assigned” to Sarge’s “unit.”

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Hey, kids! Before we tackle today’s comics, we have to go back to yesterday’s TDIET:

They’ll Do It Every Time, 8/27/07

Why this trip into the wayback machine? Well, it turns out that “the good daughter” is faithful Comics Curmudgeon reader TaxiGirl! She provides the real story behind this little drama:

In the interests of strict accuracy, my mother usually isn’t arranging a bridge meeting (I’m not sure if she’s ever played bridge in her life) — but “My mother demands that I call her back urgently … and then inevitably has to go to the bathroom as soon as she picks up the phone” apparently doesn’t suit this sort of a family feature.

The first panel, however, is right-on.

Sadly, this does not appear to give me “The Urge.”

I’m just amazed that Luluna’s phone is a wireless handset that could have actually been sold in a store in the last ten years.

And now on to today:

Baldo, 8/28/07

“Hello, there! We’re the cast of Baldo! We know that you normally turn to us for gentle humor about family life, teenagerhood, and the Latino experience in the United States. But did you know that we wouldn’t be able to bring you this enjoyable thirty seconds of the day if it weren’t for … newspapers? That’s right! They aren’t just repositories of day-old stories, stock prices you could look up on the Internet, news about city politicians you’ve barely heard of, and incomprehensible legal notices — they also keep cartoonists gainfully employed! So, for the love of God, please, keep subscribing to the damn newspaper! You don’t want Baldo’s creator to have to go back to a real job, do you?”

Funky Winkerbean, 8/28/07

And so the trip straight to the heart of death-flavored madness … begins! At first, I thought this might be a reference to that hospice cat that always seems to know when the patients are going to die, but clearly it’s seeking out Les, not Lisa. So it has a different kind of ability: namely, the ability to tell when someone is about to begin a booze-fueled descent into depression!

Also, it can talk, apparently? Yeah, sure, what the hell, why not.

Hi and Lois, 8/28/07

Not being a golfer myself, I use the comics as a sort of anthropological window into the golfing lifestyle, since so many comics artists seem to be obsessed with the game. For instance, it never occurred to me that you’d put on sunscreen to go play nine holes, though having read this of course that’s obvious. And it also never occurred to me that, if it were sunny enough to require sunscreen, you’d still leave on your ink-black, presumably wool suit, because they like formal attire on the course. And I never would have guessed that, if you skip out on work once in a while to do something you enjoy, you wouldn’t tell your wife, the person you’re ostensibly closest too, unless there was some other way that she’d find out. And finally, it was never so clear to me as it is now how “putting on sunscreen to play golf” would be a great cover for putting on sunscreen to go to a nude beach. The comics: so educational!

Pluggers, 8/28/07

Yup, ever since the Wal-Mart opened the next town over, there’ve been some changes in this plugger’s local neighborhood. Not to complain: now milk’s thirty cents a gallon cheaper, and isn’t that worth an extra twenty minutes or so of driving? But you can’t blame him from talking in the past tense: “take a left at the huge, empty, greyish husk of a building, go a couple of miles and it’s on the right across from the mid-sized yellowish burnt-for-the-insurance money husk of a building, next to the Dollar Store” just sounds depressing.

Mary Worth, 8/28/07

Mary’s “Uh-oh!” can’t be about Dr. Drew’s two-timing, since she doesn’t understand or care about ordinary human concepts like “love.” No, she’s more worried that he’s stealing her patented schtick: talking in annoying aphorisms with quote marks around them even though they don’t really appear to be quotes from anything. Also, he’s apparently been taking fashion advice from Ian Cameron — always a very, very bad sign.

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Blondie, 4/5/07

True story: On recycling day in our neighborhood, the big trucks from the sanitation department drive around at walking speed; one guy’s in the cabin driving the truck, and another one is walking along the sidewalk, picking up the bags of cans and throwing them in the back. One day last fall as I was walking towards my house, I saw the recycling truck stopped at the corner, with the driver hanging out the window and laughing. When I got a little closer, I could see his partner, an enormous dude in a jumpsuit, hopping his way through a recently chalked hopscotch board, with a huge grin on his face. Anyway, no snark here, just wanted to note that today’s Blondie reminded me of that, and stave off complaints that nobody has actually drawn a hopscotch board on the sidewalk since 1962.

Apartment 3-G, 4/5/07

Oh ho, it’s a meeting of the minor-characters-one-generation-older-than-the-protagonists minds as Margo’s hilariously stereotypical immigrant mother ambushes Professor “Big Papa” Papagoras. The Professor has clearly guessed nothing of the sort about Margo, as he’s surely spent too much time in his love nest with Gina to be keeping track of his neighbors’ sex lives, but he seems surprised that anyone would be planning to propose marriage to someone incapable of what humans call “love.”

Baldo, 4/5/07

Hey, remember last week, when I said something nice about Baldo? Well, since then, Tia Carmen has been explaining to El Mustache del Sexy, in harrowing detail, how she came to arrive in America. It seems that Baldo and Gracie’s mother was killed by a drunk driver in a horrible accident years ago with Baldo and Gracie in the car; their father, overwhelmed by the prospect of raising two kids by himself, called his Tia Carmen to come help raise them. Today, she speculates on the divine purpose behind such horror. That’s right, Baldo and Gracie: God killed your mom so your Tia Carmen could get laid. Sorry ‘bout that, but they don’t call ’em “mysterious ways” for nothing.

Oh, also, on Sunday this strip’s “hilarious” April Fools “joke” featured heavily armed INS agents bursting down the door to the Bermudez home and dragging Tia Carmen away screaming into a paddy wagon while the children wept. I feel less bad about this now that I’ve seen today’s installment.

Pluggers, 4/5/07

Oh, for … that’s a whole lot of unnecessary verbiage in that caption. Here you go: “A puppy is a plugger personal trainer.” GOD DAMN IT PLUGGERS, DO I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING AROUND HERE? Sheesh.