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Apartment 3-G, 6/12/08

And with “Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to kill your buzz,” the Incredible True Adventures Of Two Intensely Dorky Crackheads In Love (With Crack) officially becomes my favorite non-Margo Apartment 3-G storyline ever. I’m also particularly fond of “Slow down, Haley. I’m too high to think right now.” It’s the periods that really give the dialog the crazed urgency of the drug fiend so addled that he can barely construct a coherent sentence.

Dick Tracy, 6/12/08

The current Dick Tracy storyline is so moronic even by this strip’s standards that I refuse to expend precious energy typing out a summary, but I do want to draw your attention to the “Police Pod Squad” narration box or sign or whatever in the first panel. If all of the cops in Dick Tracy were secretly alien replicants spawned from enormous green space pods that plummeted to Earth from beyond the moon, it would actually explain a lot.

Marmaduke, 6/12/08

Ha ha, they gave Marmaduke a lunch box! It’s as if he’s heading off to his day job as a huge, barking, drooling, nuisance who everybody hates.

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Dennis the Menace, 5/9/08

Dennis, you little devil! See, Dennis gave milk to Hot Dog without asking his parents, and it got splashed all over the carpet, and it’ll be impossible to get it out, and once it spoils, the living room is going to REEK! Ha ha! SO MENACING!

OK, no, there’s no way to get any menace out of this. Seriously, he’s making an adorable statement about a purring kitty-cat. At this point, he’s out-Jeffying Jeffy.

Family Circus, 5/9/08

Case in point. At least this panel has taken the crowd-pleasing step of showing us Jeffy being grievously injured.

Apartment 3-G, 5/9/08

What is Alan smoking? I mean this question quite literally. “Pipe” plus “rock” equals “crack,” obviously, but the lingo has been inconsistent enough that I’m still holding out for heroin, which you can in fact smoke from a pipe if you’re a-scared of needles. I’m not sure why I’m rooting for the horse; maybe it’s an act of local pride (Baltimore being something of a heroin town), or maybe because being a junkie has a bit more old-school charm than being a crackhead. I’m certainly hoping that all this fuss isn’t over marijuana (OH MY GOD AN ARTIST SMOKES POT WHO WOULD HAVE EVER THOUGHT?).

I do like the mournful, baffled way in which Alan is regarding his toothbrush in panel two. “Wait, is this my pipe? Oh, God, I’m so [APPROPRIATE SLANG TERM] on [DRUG]!”

Herb and Jamaal, 5/9/08

Jamaal and Yolanda have carried mutual but unrequited torches for each other for pretty much the whole time I’ve been reading this strip. They’re like the Mulder and Scully of mediocre comic strips that nobody really reads. That’s the context for the first panel, which must surely count as the most awkward attempt to shift gears from friendship to romance in the history of human interaction. Of course, it quickly descends into madness, with Yolanda replying in a manner that no human being would, ever, just to set up a deeply lame joke, but I still can’t get past Jamaal’s super-smooth technique. What if she had taken it more positively? What would his next move had been? “How do you feel about friends kissing with tongues? How do you feel about one friend’s penis kissing another friend’s vagina?”

Dick Tracy, 5/9/08

“Yeah, you know, they do something really mundane, like rescue the police force’s two top officers with a 900-year-old weapon while an entire SWAT team is held at bay, and then stand around all needy, like they want a medal or something. Get a life, loser!”

In other news: Comic Sans has been banished! Huzzah!

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Phantom, 5/3/08

Could the JUNGLE PATROL’s longstanding no-yucky-girls-allowed policy have been based on sound policy, not mere prejudice? The men of the Jungle Patrol have for centuries cheerfully taken orders without question from a mysterious figure that they never see and who may not even exist; but these two dames have been Jungle Patrolpersons for less than a week and they’re already determined to suss out his identity — not because they find the idea of a faceless, nameless superior officer creepy and weird, of course, but because they want to have sex with him. Kay and Hawa have been yammering on in this vein for several days now, and I’ve been wondering how their tight-knit friendship would survive when the Unknown Commander has to choose only one of them to be his Unknown Commandress, but today we learn that obviously the choice will be based on racial grounds. It’s too bad the real U.C. isn’t Chinese or something, just because it would be fun to watch that blow their minds.

Apartment 3-G, 5/3/08

Thanks to the glory and pageantry of NetFlix, my wife and I tore through all five seasons of The Wire a few months ago, but this Apartment 3-G makes me realize that I still don’t fully understand the economics of the drug trade. Will Jones be pleased when he realizes that Alan is redistributing his dope, happy to move up the ladder from street-level dealer to wholesaler? Or will he conclude that the profits Alan is reaping by selling smack to desperate floozies are rightfully his own, and decide to shoot the hapless artist in the back of the head and leave his body to rot in a vacant somewhere?

The stakes would be much higher if everyone involved weren’t morons. I love Jones’s rapt expression in panel two. “Whoah — that’ll buy a lotta dope! Now where I could I find some … oh, wait, I have some right here! Turns out I don’t need your money after all, Alan.”

Dick Tracy, 5/3/08

Dick Tracy’s contempt for Deformed-Americans has never been more obvious. Hey, Liz, your “knight in shining armor” lost his gun, then stood around aimlessly in that shining armor until somebody else shot the bad guy. Your real savior was Dab Stract, who has the added bonus of not being married (I’m assuming). Go on, plant a wet one his lumpy, malformed cheek. He’s earned it!

Gasoline Alley, 5/3/08

His two-timing having been revealed to the congregation, Sturdivant is about to be dragged out of the church by the bride’s hobo relatives and stabbed to death, or possibly sodomized. Score another one for good ol’ fashioned frontier justice!