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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?”

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Blondie, 2/15/08

I suppose by “old college sweatshirt” Dagwood means “sweatshirt I wore when I was in college,” but when I think “college sweatshirt” I would visualize a sweatshirt that has, you know, a college’s logo or mascot on it, or at least its name. Then again, Dagwood went to college during the Harding Administration, when there were probably only about ten or twelve active universities in the United States, so maybe the colors were enough. Back then, the mere sight of a blue and black garment let you know that you were in the presence of a graduate of Dagwood’s esteemed alma mater. I’m sure he has many fond memories of rooting on The Stripes on the base-ball field.

Gil Thorp, 2/15/08

You might recall that after the famed self-clubbing incident of early 2007, Tyler was banished to intensive psychiatric treatment. Obviously it worked like gangbusters. He’s gone all season without bludgeoning himself; and, what’s more, thanks to his new self-knowledge, he’s gained an almost uncanny insight into how the human psyche works. It’s almost as if he’s able to project himself out of his spit-curled head and into Andrew Gregory’s slightly longer spit-curled head. Gil and Kaz will be thankful for his help in this case, obviously, but may grow increasingly nervous about just what kind of mind-reading monster they’ve created.

Lockhorns, 2/15/08

The Lockhorns schtick is generally not difficult to wrap one’s head around — they hate each other, you see — so the occasional panel composed of complete nonsense is all the more surprising. Who exactly is Leroy playing chess against? Why are all the pieces the same color? Why does Loretta’s “sleepy eyes” face look exactly like her “black eyes from getting in a car wreck” face? And how does it all fit in with their endless attempts to destroy one another, as everything inevitably does?

Mark Trail, 2/15/08

This may be the greatest ever Mark Trail that doesn’t actually feature Mark punching anybody. At last, we get to see a bear dish out the punishment and hostility, though alas some kind of syndicate rule seems to forbid the depiction of the Neanderthal henchman being eviscerated, so we instead need to settle for the sight of him fleeing in terror unrealistically quickly. I do like the fact that the widow Malone seems to merely stand around arching her eyebrows sexily while her muscle is nearly mauled. “Sorry, the bullets in this rifle are only for the elimination of one Mark Trail, not for some great furry beast. Perhaps you should have made use of your own weapon rather than casting it aside and screaming ‘AHHHH..’, you bearded cretin!”

Marvin, 2/15/08

OK, Marvin, that’s … that’s enough with the ass jokes. For serious now.