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Mary Worth, 4/17/08

Rex Morgan may have his Mass MRSA Hysteria going for him, but Mary Worth has her own groovy new storyline percolating on the stove: the Baddle of the Ugly Middle-Aged Momma’s Boys! (“Baddle” was originally a typo for “battle,” but now I’m keeping it because it looks like “battle” plus “meddle.”) If most of next week is spent in the hospital parking lot, as two doughy dudes huff and puff while they swing ineffectively at each other and Mary shouts “Ronald! Richard! You stop that at once!”, I’ll be a happy guy.

Blondie, 4/17/08

There’s something odd about Dagwood’s lackadaisical pose that I can’t quite put my finger on. Surely the credenza is not a particularly comfortable place to lounge while being electronically snubbed. Perhaps as a world-class layabout he’s become bored with loafing on obvious pieces of furniture, like the couch or recliner, and is trying to step up his game by branching out.

Hagar the Horrible, 4/17/08

You know, sometimes it seems that Helga is profoundly unhappy in her marriage, but it’s days like today when she remembers why she agreed to leave her parents’ hut, get into Hagar’s longboat, and sail down the fjord to his village: because he’s so good at murdering people and stealing their valuable possessions.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/15/08

My, the local yokels in Rex Morgan’s town sure care about stuff, don’t they? I mean, most people respond to news about bacteria and public health policy by saying “Guh, science is hard” and changing the channel, but these folks have taken note of the crisis in their community and chose to get politically involved. Naturally, Rex and June, as representatives of the out-of-touch medical elite, dismiss them as ignorant peasants. In their perfect world, people would meekly follow the dictates of their physician-kings, especially when it came to purchasing expensive prescription medication manufactured by companies who contribute nice pens and notepads to the Morgan clinic.

Rex’s dickish statement in panel two definitely qualifies as one of his most hilarious dickish statements yet. Of course, his obsession with nostril health may be the root cause of some of the more unusual viewing angles this strip has featured in the past:

And let’s not forget this panel from last Saturday!

See, we thought it was about her choppers, but it turns out that we can actually see the MRSA breeding, up there amongst her boogers.

Apartment 3-G, 4/15/08

That’s actually what Margo asks herself pretty much every waking minute of the day. Still, in panel three she looks almost sheepish about the awful plan for exploiting Lu Ann’s brain damage she’s about to unveil.

Blondie, 4/15/08

When I first read this, I thought, “Wouldn’t it be easier if Dagwood just kept a stick of pepperoni in the car?” But if he did, he’d inevitably eat it. In fact, he’s probably going to eat that air freshener.

For Better Or For Worse, 4/15/08

Wait … when the baby boomers were getting married the bygone days of the ’60s and ’70s, did they really decide on a wedding date the moment they got engaged? I don’t think they did, actually. FOR PETE’S SAKE FOOBS, JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN MAKE A PUN OUT OF IT DOESN’T MAKE IT TRUE.

Get Fuzzy, 4/15/08

Ha, he said “wash his own balls!” But what really made me laugh for some reason was “oh my head.” Most people would say “oh my God” or the like, but Bucky can imagine no deity more important than his own misshapen skull.

Judge Parker, 4/15/08

HEY, EVERYONE, MARIJUANA! The Dickens farm has been growing marijuana. That … that revelation turned out to be fairly anticlimactic, actually. At least we’ll be treated to a be-hatted Abbey being held captive by sinister geriatric drug dealers, which should be wonderful and bizarre.

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Blondie, 3/29/08

You know, if Blondie is going to make us endure this extremely blah gag, I think we should at least get to see a panicked Dagwood standing ankle-deep in raw sewage. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

Hagar the Horrible, 3/29/08

Holy … crap! Is this the first time we’ve seen Hagar without his helmet? Please, let it be the last! He’s like a damn muppet under there.

Mary Worth, 3/29/08

“Actually, I don’t understand at all, but if I say I do, maybe you’ll shut the hell up. Seriously, stop talking, for Christ’s sake. And what the hell are you doing on my lap?”