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Apartment 3-G, 12/4/09

As Bobbie’s finger tapped his hollow metal chest with an echoing “thump,” Alec realized that she was right. What was the point of doing this the fancy way? He was just a simple robot, built by Bobbie to hunt down and destroy her cheating husband. No more play-acting at free will; it was time to get down to business.

Family Circus, 12/4/09

There’s something incredibly repulsive to me about how vigorously Jeffy is wiping the slobber off of his face with his unitard-clad forearm. Each and every one of those adults is covered with a thick, viscous layer of Jeffy drool.

Hagar the Horrible, 12/4/09

Yes, Helga, but most people aren’t sad and desperate alcoholics!

Mark Trail, 12/4/09

Normally I do not root for the terrible death of adorable puppies, but Sassy’s continued moronic behavior is making me rethink that policy. Maybe it’s time to let natural selection take its course, you know? On the other hand, if Sassy manages to also take out the malformed Rusty-thing along with her, she will paradoxically become a true hero-dog, unworthy of death.

Marmaduke, 12/4/09

And by “odd-looking toupee” we mean “still-bleeding scalp,” obviously! Actually it’s kind of amazing how that interpretation doesn’t require a change to anybody’s facial expression or body language in this panel.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/1/09

What must it be like to be part of a couple in which both you and your spouse work in the demanding but rewarding medical field, with human lives literally in your hands, day after day? Since I’m a terrible person, I assume it mostly involves petty score-keeping. “Oh ho, Peter, it looks like you managed to kill someone — again — while I nobly went above and beyond the call of duty and found one of my missing patients just before she developed deadly pneumonia. Advantage: Becka!”

Family Circus, 12/1/09

I’m going to skip over Dolly’s chilling views on mother-daughter relationships (“I can’t believe she’s wasting her time talking to that old bag! When I grow up, I’m not even going to tell Mommy where I live!”) and focus on little Jeffy, wearin’ his best penny loafers and just stone cold maxin’ and relaxin’ in that doorway. I love the way he’s holding that book in his lap like a little table. Obviously he has some dim idea that education might be his ticket out of the Keane Kompound, but since literacy will be forever beyond his capabilities, he just grabbed a thin little brown volume (the Reader’s Digest abridged version of Leviticus, probably) from whatever shelf he could reach and carries it around the house with him, hoping it will help, somehow.

Mary Worth, 12/1/09

Mary’s expression of palpable and inappropriate relief may indicate that even a master meddler has her limits; even she doesn’t have the spiritual strength to deal with the emotional problems of a sad sack like Wilbur. “She’ll only be gone a few months, but who will wipe all this dirt off my face? I’m far too sad without her to deal with basic hygiene! Will you do it Mary? I think there are some towels over by the side of the pool.”

Dennis the Menace, 12/1/09

“An’ that’s why we’re buryin’ this snitch in a shallow grave.”

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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 11/22/09

Wow, that big-eyed grinning severed teddy bear head in the third panel is certainly one of the more horrifying things I’ve seen today, yet it’s worth noting that, as the first panel shows, it’s only slightly less frightening while dangling detached from a dog’s jaws than it was when firmly attached to its original body. I can’t imagine ever giving such a nightmare-fueling monstrosity to a child, but I suppose that Li’l Tater will see worse things in the cesspool of incest and clan feuds that is Hootin’ Holler, so one might as well accustom the lad to horror from the get-go. And so why not attach the teddy bear head to what I assume is the skin of a real bear in some sort of unsettling hybrid? (The question of whatever became of the real head originally attached to the bearskin rug is best not thought about at any length.)

I do have to admit that the fifth panel, in which Loweezy holds the bear head gingerly by the ears and regards it dubiously while her useless husband cheerfully wanders off to get drunk on corn likker and then shoot at things, is a little masterpiece.

Mary Worth, 11/22/09

Well, it looks like Delilah’s sudden and discombobulating reappearance this week is really just meant to serve as a sort of a coda to Adrian and Scott’s story, the relevance of which I’d have an easier time parsing if I could remember what exactly the point of Delilah’s story was in the first place. Uh, true love triumphs over adversity, given enough time? Yeah, let’s go with that. Mostly I just feel bad that poor Leonard Cohen had to get dragged into this; he, along with Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova and Daniel Johnston, are victims of this strip’s ongoing attempt to destroy the reputation of various hipster indie musicians by associating them with Mary Worth.

Crankshaft and Funky Winkerbean, 11/22/09

A man tries to relax by rediscovering his favorite music, only to receive an unwelcome reminder of his own mortality; another man suffers from recurring stress nightmares, years after being forced to retire from the job that prompted them, and wonders when they’ll finally stop haunting him. A relaxing Sunday afternoon in the Funkyverse, everybody!

Mark Trail, 11/22/09

“The ocean without kelp is like the Earth without trees. That’s why we’re harvesting all the kelp for chemical and industrial purposes. Soon there will be no more kelp, just like there will soon be no more trees!”

Panel from Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/22/09

I thought that those of you who don’t read Rex Morgan except when I mention it here might enjoy this panel, which features Tim throttling the hapless Cue, who soon provided the requested information. See, torture works! Specifically, Cue told Tim that Henry and Pearl had wandered off, which means that we’ll have to endure yet more oldster pursuit across various waterlogged golf courses.