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For Better Or For Worse, 10/13/06

As the Liz-Anthony storyline grinds on to its terrifying and seemingly inevitable conclusion, all of North America can only look on in horror.

I was physically unable to bring myself to comment on yesterday’s foobery, in which Liz, who up until fairly recently had an exciting and adventurous life, declared herself “unaccomplished” compared to Anthony because he had a child and owned property. While clearly parenthood and ownership of a bland suburban box is the height of human achievement in Foobonia, the sad truth is that the house was no doubt purchased largely with the money from Thérèse’s unspecified-but-implied-to-be-high-powered job, and as for the baby, well, if you’re married, for most people it actually takes more planning and effort to not have a baby than it does to have one. I suppose it’s an “accomplishment” that Anthony convinced his wife to have sex with him despite their obvious mutual dislike. Of course, now Thérèse has left both home and baby behind because she’s a totally unrealistic straw-woman character designed to make us feel sorry for Anthony totally evil, nonmaternal, career-focused bitch, leaving Liz an opportunity to get closer to her dream guy, who likes to hang out in his basement office with his caged toddler.

All this aside, though, this morning I had a brainstorm about why the Liz-Anthony pairing is so perfect. See, motherhood is a necessary component to a woman’s life, unless she decides she’d rather not be a parent is a totally evil, nonmaternal, career-focused bitch like Thérèse. If Liz weds Anthony, she’ll get to experience the soul-completing joy of being a mommy without having to have icky sex.

Apartment 3-G, 10/13/06

OK, so this wacky Lu Ann adventure, with the lights turning on and off and the odd instant falling asleep and the sepia-toned dream sequences … it’s really … weird, right? It’s not just me? It’s OK that I’m creeped out by the command in the last panel here? Who’s going to keep her safe, dammit? Who?

Six Chix, 10/13/06

You’re one to talk about addictive behavior, lady. You’re the one who appears to be sitting at a bar in the middle of your house.

Family Circus, 10/13/06

Actually, Jeffy, that’s how we know that Dolly’s sick. Very, very sick.

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Mary Worth, 10/12/06

Oh, come on now: You know you’ve all idly thought about faking your own death, if only to see how people would react at your funeral. I think if I were Aldo — whether I was looking down on this mortal coil from my new home on a fluffy white cloud, or very much alive and hiding in the bushes, chortling with glee — I would derive a great deal of satisfaction from the sudden case of the squirmies that has beset our fearsome foursome here. It’s all the more obvious and awkward for them, considering that they seem to make up half the funeral party.

Curtis, 10/12/06

Not that we should expect the average tweenager to have an elaborate life plan in place, but I’m somewhat disturbed by Curtis’ two potential scenarios for getting out of his parents’ tiny apartment: Either he can become economically independent and a contributing member of society, or he can … get married. Speaking as someone who married a homeowner, I say go down path number two, Curtis. It’s a lot easier.

Zippy the Pinhead, 10/12/06

You know, you can be irritated by a comic day after day, but then once in a while you’re reminded why you still read it. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard a put-down as succinct, forceful, and useful in any situation as “Clam up, noseface!” I intend to put it to good use in the not-so-distant future, believe you me.

Family Circus, 10/12/06

See, this is why I’d be such a lousy grandparent: My response would be, “I don’t know Dolly, is your song going to be any good?”

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Slylock Fox, 8/26/06

Poor Count Weirdly! Why can’t he draw the plans for his new lair, to be built on federally protected wilderness land, in peace, without that damn fox detective keeping tabs on his routine real estate decisions? The sheer density of creepy critters in this cartoon indicates that he needs a mountaintop castle with a bit more space. I like the fact that the Count eschews chairs in favor of a stubby butt-supporting beast that he presumably whipped up in his lab.

Family Circus, 8/26/06

Portrait of a vacation that has gone on too long: Dolly fills PJ’s head with libelous lies, Jeffy refuses to blow his own nose, and Billy, holding a purse for some reason, looks ready to get into the car of whichever stranger offers him candy first. Meanwhile, Daddy seems to be contemplating how far he can get from his family if he just starts walking and never looks back.