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Hi and Lois, 8/9/07

Ho ho! Hi’s decided to take his family on a bizarre Western “dream vacation,” which, as we’ve seen over the past week or so, several of the Flagstons are dubious about. Now we learn that they couldn’t even afford the trip! Hi knows the family is being crushed by credit card debt, and he’s looking desperately for some magical way to get out of the hole! Maybe they’ll go bankrupt and their house will be repossessed! Too bad about that housing bubble bursting, eh Lois? Wait, where’s Lois? My guess: prostituting herself so they can afford dinner tonight, or perhaps committing suicide.

Beetle Bailey, 8/9/07

Hee hee! Cookie has one job to do at Camp Swampy — one — and he’s terrible at it, and everybody on base — the men who are supposed to be his comrades — lets him know it. Naturally this is killing him inside, so he climbs up on the roof. Maybe he just wants to get away for a bit, maybe it’s a plea for attention. Either way, the soldiers’ hatred is just further inflamed, and they openly call for his suicide.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 8/9/07

Hardy hardy har! That feeling of overwhelming love and oneness you get at the beginning of a relationship? Turns out it’s just equal parts sexual attraction and self-delusion! Once you’ve finally chosen to spend your life with a person, that’s when the scales fall from your eyes and you realize you’re chained to another insufferably imperfect human being, forever — and the only way out is suicide.

(Dear God, I hope “you know who” isn’t Al Scaduto’s wife.)

The Phantom, 8/9/07

It’s been pretty well established that what’s-his-name, the dude with the gun, is pretty reluctant about using it, so it’s actually fairly plausible that this couple could literally be beating up an armed man with both hands tied behind their back (the husband is doing the head-butting today, but yesterday his wife managed to get in a good foot to the groin). This is fortunate, because otherwise the Ghost-Who-Doesn’t-Do-Much might have to intervene, which would cut into his valuable musing time.

Family Circus, 8/9/07

I feel weird saying this about the Family Circus, but there’s a lot I love about this cartoon. I love that Billy looks genuinely angry that he’s going to be spending four valuable hours a night staring at this tiny television set while they’re at the grandparents’ house — so angry that he appears to be shouting at the screen at the top of his lungs. I love the look on Thel’s face in the other room, as she realizes that her unruly, obnoxious children are once again going to make her look bad in front of her own parents. I love the way Big Daddy Keane is marching in from off-panel — because this is a panel from the pre-PC ’70s, presumably Billy will be getting the strap again in short order. And I love the fact that PJ is awkwardly holding his shorts up, probably because he’s just crapped in them.

Mary Worth, 8/9/07

Drew, you’re a healer! You took the Hippocratic Oath! And yet your colleague here is clearly either having a stroke or is bombed out of his mind on the job, and all you can say is “Geez”. For shame!

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Mary Worth and Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/28/07

Maternal visit or no, I certainly could not let these two explosive comics from Saturday go unremarked. I’d urge you to try to reproduce the bizarre angles of Drew and Dawn’s approach in panel two at home, but you might then be tempted to photograph it and send me a picture, the prospect of which makes me distinctly uncomfortable. I’m pretty sure the lines of radiance represent the aura experienced by epileptics just before a seizure, because that’s the only reasonably explanation for the awkward poses and facial expressions of otherworldly detachment from reality.

Meanwhile, in Rex Morgan, M.D., stuff (and here I mean “stuff” U English sense to mean woolen fabric, specifically the woolen fabric in the very U Hugh’s suit) blows up. Even more exciting than that, though, is seeing June say, “Did he grovel for you like he did for me?” That very well could have triggered the explosion — the explosion of sexiness.

Beetle Bailey and Hi and Lois, 7/28/07

Meanwhile, although I’m usually left cold by golf jokes (and WE GET IT CARTOONISTS YOU’D RATHER BE GOLFING THAN DRAWING FUNNY PICTURES) and Beetle Bailey generally, I have to admit that Saturday’s Beetle Bailey golf joke actually made me laugh aloud. I do wonder why Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Industries LLC doesn’t have team meetings once a week to prevent this kind of overlap, though.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 7/28/07

And once again TDIET is Curmudgeon-inspired! Gabe Owens is in fact faithful reader Gabe. Since Gabe is in the Navy, this cartoon could have featured some epically outdated uniforms and insignia, possible from World War I, but I guess that’s Beetle Bailey territory; when you’re in a TDIET, you toil away in a generic Eisenhower-era office and you like it, buddy. Gabe has used his real name (and rank? I thought MC2 was some variation on “Master Chief”, but I couldn’t find any evidence to that effect online; maybe it’s his rap name?), so he’d better hope that having “The Urge” isn’t a court-martialable offense.

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Beetle Bailey, 7/25/07

All day, people have been commenting in varying degrees of arousal about the hot, hot Miss Buxley action in today’s Beetle Bailey. All I can say is: why? The Walker oeurvre is one of the funny pages’ more stylized, and there are few less detailed or realistic looking “sexy” women in comics than General Halftrack’s oft-harassed secretary. Seriously, if this was all it took to get me worked up, I’d just draw a stick figure and slap some boobs on it and WHAM! Instant porn. Even the theoretically sexy frilly unmentionables are terribly botched, with Buxley’s brassiere seemingly wrapped around her robe, implying that either that the artist has little grasp of spatial relations and/or undergarment topography, or that she’s dressing quickly because she’s aware of the series of hidden cameras the general has stashed all over her apartment and wired up to the phone somehow.

The less said about whatever’s in her robe pocket, the better. Is it a hot glue gun? Or something more untoward There’s something about its crap-brown color that unsettles me.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/25/07

Now, Heather Avery — that’s a cartoon character whose sex appeal I can endorse. I don’t even care about those little droopy devil horn things on the front of her head, which indicate that she’s probably a succubus in addition to being a gold-digging nanny and stock-manipulating white-collar co-conspirator.

This whole encounter is more than a little porntastic. “Hugh … what is it? I’m getting dressed — and since I’m already in the process of removing my robe, surely it’s unrealistic to expect me to close it again now that it’s half-way open, since I’ll just be taking it off completely in a few minutes. Can’t it wait? The robe-closing, I mean.” Of course, since there’s no blood relation between the two of them and they’ve only met the previous day, there’s nothing untoward or incestuous about the prospect of them falling into each other’s arms for comfort in the wake of their great loss — or at least there wouldn’t be if they didn’t essentially look exactly alike. Even Von and Vera, Mary Worth’s creepy Flowers in the Attic pair, didn’t share this much of a resemblance. Of course, this has less bearing on any potential Heather-Hugh match-up and much more bearing on Milton’s now-revealed-to-be-deeply-disturbing attraction to Heather.

Dennis the Menace, 7/25/07

Lucky for Ruff the Mitchell’s floor is covered with a healthy layer of rotting organic matter! Of course, we can’t blame Alice for the unhygienic state of the house: Henry forces her to wear those killer stilettos at all times, so she can barely walk; I don’t know how you expect her to operate a vacuum cleaner.