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Mary Worth, 2/18/10

Oh my goodness, SO MANY DRAMAS AND SADNESSES in today’s Mary Worth! Dawn abruptly puts a stop to her intimate moment with Wilbur as she notices Kurt lurking in the other room, puking into his hand. Then she dishes some dirt about her father’s inability to sustain a relationship. “Yeah, after mom woke up one day and said ‘Holy Christ, I’m married to Wilbur Weston?’ I lived in Connecticut with her … until I got caught robbing a liquor store, and the judge told me I had to choose between juvie and moving to California to live with my dad. When I think about the fact that I’d be a free woman back on the streets again if I’d made that first choice, whereas now I’m still living here … ugh, it gives me chills. Anyway, you didn’t miss much, trust me.” Meanwhile, Wilbur, left to his own devices, has immediately wandered back to the computer, desperately trolling Facebook for more long-lost offspring who will at least briefly pretend to love him.

Dick Tracy, 2/18/10

A wild-eyed maniac spouting nonsense? A group of lanky shadow-figures, waving their arms about in panic? An extreme close-up on the stylized face of a woman keening a single piercing note of pure terror? The best Dick Tracy in many a moon? Yes, yes, yes, and yes!

Beetle Bailey, 2/18/10

It appears that Killer’s constant tree-fucking ways aren’t just expressions of his perverted nature; he’s actually part of a top-secret military experiment to breed intelligent and deadly tree-human hybrids. You know who’s going to freak out and emit a single panicked ball of sweat when he sees one of those hairy prehensile root-tentacles slithering into his cave? Osama bin Laden, that’s who!

Family Circus, 2/18/10

Mommy and daddy better not hear that traitor talk, Dolly, or someone’s going to learn that one ought not to let one’s aesthetics affect one’s patriotic allegiances … in Gitmo.

Jumble, 2/18/10

As it features a desperate looking couple sitting around a kitchen that’s almost completely empty except for a pile of bills, I’m pretty sure this is most depressing Jumble ever. I keep staring at the answer blanks, and all I can think of to put there is “HAVE ANY MONEY.”

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Apartment 3-G, 2/5/10

OK, you guys, are you ready for a theory that will blow your mind? Huh? Are you?

Before I launch into said theory let me, for the benefit of relative newcomers, recap the Story of Margo. Margo was raised by her wealthy father Martin and his wife — who, it turns out, was not her mother. Her mother is Gabriella, a lowly maid, who Martin knocked up. When Margo found out this sordid tale as an adult, it wreaked havoc with her family life and ability to feel ordinary human emotions, obviously, and she seems deeply suspicious that her parents are palling around again.

And what about Martin’s wife, the one who, presumably, Margo thought of as her mother for most of her childhood, but who probably viewed Margo with some combination of horror and disgust? Well, we don’t really know much about her, other than her name, which is … Roberta.

What’s a common nickname for Roberta? Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Or, really, more specifically, are you thinking what the folks over at the Lovely Ladies of Apartment 3-G blog are thinking, who had the idea first? Is the cheating husband Bobbie is obsessively chasing Martin? Is that building across the street Gabriella’s? Is this glorious lunatic pill-popping shrink-screwing floozy the woman whose disdain and resentment shaped Margo into the woman she is today? Will this plotline end in a fantabulous one-on-one Bobbie-Margo battle that will result in the two of them resolving their differences and teaming up to destroy anyone in their way? I am giddy!

(And if you aren’t reading the Lovely Ladies of Apartment 3-G, well, why the heck not?)

Pluggers, 2/5/10

Pluggers pretty much go through life in a prescription med haze, so why shouldn’t their pets, too? It sure would keep the damn things from barking constantly and cutting into pluggers’ valuable staring-at-the-wall-and-drooling time! Plus, giving pills to animals is the sort of thing that seems hilarious when you’re high.

Beetle Bailey, 2/5/10

Meanwhile, the poor vendor who owns that cart is lying on some city sidewalk bleeding to death from a bayonet wound to the gut. But, whatever, that Sarge sure likes to eat, amiright?

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Beetle Bailey, 2/4/10

OK, I’ll admit it: today’s unspeakably perverse Beetle Bailey, in which Sarge’s leering sex maniac of a dog takes him to some kind of canine fetish club, made me laugh. (I’m assuming the “fire plug dancing” bit means that their target audience is into watersports.) I think what makes this strip for me is Sarge’s look of wide-eyed innocence giving way to growing shock in the second panel. So many things he will learn tonight, about dogs and what they like to smell and/or pee on!

Gil Thorp, 2/4/10

I was going to make some sort of snide comment about how every sentence in panels two and three could be construed as a double entendre, but then I caught site of Gil’s sweater vest, and now can think about nothing but said sweater vest. Do you think it’s in Mudlark team colors? That would be ever so keen!

Mary Worth, 2/4/10

“It must be the same guy! Such an unusual name, after all!”

Dawn better keep track of her father while she thought-balloons, as Wilbur has snuck away to hunch over his computer in the background and go all crazy social-networking style. Watch out, Dawn! Maybe he’ll discover that daughter he always wanted!

Dennis the Menace, 2/4/10

Too bad you won’t be alive to see it, old man! Maybe Dennis’ll bring the little tykes over to dance on your grave!