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Mark Trail, 4/6/12

Obviously the idea of a Mark Trail storyline about marijuana sets the bar for hilarity very high, but I have to say that we haven’t been disappointed so far! I absolutely love the fact that this forest ranger has to stare at the pot plants for a while before he can remember what they are. I’m not a botanist or a stoner, but aren’t marijuana plants pretty distinctive-looking, especially to a trained naturalist type? I mean, I guess he’s trying to identify a plant growing in the underbrush from an aerial photo, which is pretty impressive. Anyway, even better is his outraged declaration in panel three. “Someone is growing marijuana on government property! Nobody gets away with that unless Uncle Sam gets a taste!”

Crankshaft, 4/6/12

It’s really sad to me that Crankshaft seems to regard a little light garden paraphernalia hoarding as an impetus for sinister chuckling. It’s like he can’t enjoy life unless he at least pretends to himself that he’s being a dick.

Apartment 3-G, 4/6/12

Aaaand we’re back to the prego porn.

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Apartment 3-G, 3/20/12

Ah, spring is here — and while Margo thinks it will take a brainload of potent lady-hormones to light up pregnant-but-not-feeling-it Nina, poor naïve Tommie thinks sunshine and blue skies alone will do the trick. I can’t wait to hear Lu Ann weigh in with a prescription for moonbeam sandwiches and unicorn juice.

Curtis, 3/20/12

Say, when is Nina due, anyway — and how will her pregnancy play out in strip time? With multiple plotlines, Apartment 3-G can at least dip in and out of the Nina ‘n’ Scott story — Rex Morgan, M.D. would be all-Nina-all-the-time until delivery or catatonic ennui sets in, whichever comes first. Let’s just all be thankful this isn’t Judge Parker, where time moves so slowly that pregnancy is effectively permanent, or Funky Winkerbean, where it’s invariably fatal.

Wait, did you hear something? I think I drifted off there for a minute.

Crankshaft, 3/20/12

Alas, no hormone, season, or diet can bring relief to Pam and Jeff Murdoch. No sooner do they acquire another noisy trinket to distract themselves from the gaping hole in their lives than the ‘hole opens his damn mouth to ruin it all again.

Gasoline Alley, 3/20/12

Kindhearted nitwit Rufus celebrates the equinox watching nightmare TV while starving himself to feed his clowder of ingrate cats.

Crock, 3/20/12

But it could be worse — it could be Crock. You can carve that in stone.

Just watch your fingers.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Apartment 3-G, 3/14/12

Hmm, Apartment 3-G, do remember that there was once a lady who didn’t want to have kids, but her husband browbeat her into it, and then, when she reacted to motherhood exactly the way you’d think someone who didn’t want kids but was browbeaten into having one would react, everyone she knew decided she was a monster and it was totally 100 percent OK that her husband made a pass at another woman, while they were married? She was named Thérèse, and she was in For Better Or For Worse, and she was, um, somewhat controversial, so perhaps we don’t want to be modeling anybody on her situation too closely? I expect rampant fetus worship from Tommie and her new found obsession with midwifery and Lu Ann and her love of all things tiny and (for the moment) dumber than her, but I have to say I’m kind of disappointed in Margo here. She’s about to bust out laughing and say, “Ha, no, I’m screwing with you, let’s take this six-pack over to Nina right now,” right?

Funky Winkerbean and Crankshaft, 3/14/12

Meanwhile, over in the Funkyverse, the Lady Scapegoats have been permitted by their hitherto malevolent God to claim the state basketball championship. At least they overcame adversity and all that; hateful old Crankshaft appears to be on the verge of some other delight-generating golf triumph (a hole in one? I’m not looking at the last few days’ strips, you can’t make me) thanks to pure dumb luck. Presumably this means that the very fabric of Funky-reality is about to be torn apart from joy overload, so everyone involved needs to enjoy it while they can.

Six Chix, 3/14/12

When you contemplate newspaper comics, do you think to yourself, “Enh, I like the funny drawings and all, but there isn’t enough puking for my taste.” Well, consider their game STEPPED UP.