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Mary Worth, 2/28/19

I suppose the meals in front of our Estelle and Date #3 are supposed be some kind of cruel commentary on their respective weights — willowy Estelle allows herself only a single slice of pizza, whereas the portly gent orders an entire pie — but I’d like to imagine that she’s actually eaten pretty much a whole pizza herself in silence while this dude was too busy weepingly telling her the detailed story of his wholly justified bigamy to even touch his food. Anyway, this reminds me of an internet date I went on where the lady spent the entire time talking about how she was in unrequited love with her best friend. She didn’t cry, but she came close! And the very next date I went on turned out to be with … the person I would eventually marry. So hold out, Estelle! You’re almost there!

Crankshaft, 2/28/19

I like the awkward pause we’re invited to linger on in the second panel here, as Crankshaft and Keesterman and the waitress all nervously contemplate Ralph’s seeming disregard for his own mortality. He’s smiling because it’s all a jape, of course, but for that moment he seems to be saying “Eh? Eh? Finally freeing myself of life in this depressing hell-dimension by doubling down on hedonistic pleasure? Eh?”

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Crankshaft, 2/5/19

The sad thing is that this doctor probably spent a lot of time thinking up this zinger, but never said it out loud to anyone to make sure it actually made sense outside his head. “Get it, because you’re … going to make the person you’re calling pay … when you die? Or wait, maybe you’re the one getting the call in this scenario. Look, just eat less cheese, OK? Cut … cut back on the cheese, is what I’m saying.”

Six Chix, 2/5/19

There’s definitely an angle at which a wine bottle is held to the lips where it goes from “a jaunty swig” to “guzzling as part of some terrible emotional crisis,” and we seem well past it in this strip, to the extent that I’m very worried that that huge knife is so close at hand.

Gil Thorp, 2/5/19

God, Gil is so thrilled in panel three, it’s unseemly. “I knew it!” he thinks. “I knew this little twerp was suicidal! See, I can so connect with these losers emotionally. In your face, haters!”

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Crankshaft, 1/31/19

Ha ha, this very serious story about Ralph’s life-threatening cardiovascular condition sure is giving Crankshaft a lot of chances to think about Ralph pissing and shitting!

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 1/31/19

I have to say I’m almost in awe of this strip, which is clearly the result of a thought process like, “‘Conscratchulations’? Is that anything? What do these hillbillies congratulate each other over? Checkers, I guess? Done.” Like, you could imagine a setup where Lukey is pleased he’s finally dispatched a hard-to-reach itch, but nope, that would detract from the pure, unadulterated, who-gives-a-shit that today’s strip exudes.