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Mary Worth, 11/12/08

Never mind Mary and Frank’s hissy fit over the most effective way to mold your daughter to your will; what sort of sordid public coupling is going on to their left in panel one? Oh, sure, Coachy McPervert is just “helping” his young skater with her “coat” — but that doesn’t explain why she’s reaching inside his jacket to pull him closer. Looks like some skating coaches know the power of good, old-fashioned positive reinforcement (which, I can’t emphasize enough, only works this way if the skater you’re coaching is not your blood relative).

Apartment 3-G, 11/12/08

The Who On Earth Talks Or Acts This Way Follies continue unabated in Apartment 3-G. As near as I can tell, Gary is freaking out because Tommie went public with their relationship. Which sort of makes sense, because wouldn’t you be embarrassed about dating the least interesting Apartment 3-G girl?

Crankshaft, 11/12/08

Oh, look, it’s apparently characters sitting silently on the couch while the TV news inflicts terrible jokes on them week in Crankshaft. I note that the characters are not watching these wacky news jokesters together, because not even Crankshaft characters want to hang out with Crankshaft characters.

Family Circus, 11/12/08

“Thank you, Grandma, for invoking the name of Beth-Chu-Harebzed over my soup, turning it inky black, like the soul of our satanic master! Now it will give me the strength of ten thousand demons!”

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Funky Winkerbean, 11/11/08

Every long-running narrative form drifts towards its own extremes, which explains how Funky Winkerbean went from being an occasionally melancholy strip about high school hijinks to a charnel house. Hopefully today’s near-wordless installment is about to take things to the next level: instead of being struck down by alcoholism or cancer or garden-variety despair, Montoni is going to be devoured by the rampaging Tyrannosaurus Rex that has escaped from a secret underground genetics lab, and is now eating everything in sight. Hopefully, the new accelerated pace of death will kill off all the strip’s characters in short order, opening us up for a new, happier beginning, or at least three blank panels a day in which nobody weeps openly.

Crankshaft, 11/11/08

Meanwhile, over in the “fun” Funkyverse strip, the complex issue of Afghan poppy cultivation — which is the only means that many impoverished Afghan farmers have to make a living, but which fuels terrorism and religious extremism in the region and desperate addiction in the United States — provides the source material for a terrible joke about pastries for Crankshaft to squint angrily at. Crankshaft is irritated by this news report, naturally, because it promises that the smack that makes his life bearable will be more expensive in the coming months.

Apartment 3-G, 11/11/08

The third-stringers continue to stink up the field here in Apartment 3-G, as Gary, completely rattled by a little razzing from Dr. Kelly, flails emotionally at Tommie for no reason. “You two work together. Is he always a little … ODD???? Hey, don’t walk so far away when I’m shouting paranoid nonsense at you!” It’s just as well that Tommie found out that Gary can’t deal with difficult people now, before she took him home to be terrified by Margo.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/11/08

“Seriously, no more! Your heterosexual shenanigans repulse me.”

Marmaduke, 11/11/08

“Guess who’s got rabies! Me, soon enough.”

Pluggers, 11/11/08

OH FOR THE LOVE GOD NO PLUGGERS AND GARAGE CLEANING NOOOOOO

(For you Johnny- and Janey-come-latelies who don’t know what “garage cleaning” is code for, travel back in time.)

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Crankshaft, 10/29/08

Good lord, is there a more menacing sight than Crankshaft’s hateful old face framed by a sinister black cloud rolling in from nowhere? This is no mere cantankerous old grump; he’s clearly some kind of winter-demon, determined to turn our beautiful country into an icy hell to inspire what passes for delight in his frozen lump of heart by calling down all manner of sleet and snow with his dark powers. Expect our frigid nightmare to continue until the ’Shaft decides that scorching summer heat might provide a better backdrop to his cranky, malapropistic wit.

Hi and Lois, 10/29/08

Sure, laugh all you want at Hi for not trying to use any search terms that might actually be helpful — the gentleman’s home town, his job, that sort of thing — but in his defense, sharing that sort of information is really frowned upon at anonymous sex parties, which I suppose is why they call them anonymous sex parties.

Ziggy, 10/29/08

It seems like there’s a sub-prime joke here trying to get out, but heck, let’s give the comic credit for trying. Ha ha, Ziggy’s flower is dying!