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Mark Trail, 5/5/18

Is it just me or has this “Rusty woos a young lady” plotline suddenly transformed Mark’s ward from his usual form as a hideous boy-thing into a handsome lad with piercing blue eyes? We all know that we can’t just change our appearance at a whim, that would be absurd, so I have to assume that we’re seeing Rusty’s own mental image of himself at this precise moment, influenced by some combination of close proximity to a girl who isn’t visibly recoiling from him in horror and the lower oxygen levels at high altitude.

Mary Worth, 5/5/18

Good lord! Wilbur’s so far gone that he’s failed to adequately oil up his combover, leaving it to blow willy-nilly in the ocean breeze! Just give him a firm shove over the cliff, Mary; if he were in his right mind, he would much prefer death to a life like … this.

Crankshaft, 5/5/18

Crankshaft dropped so many pills under the fridge that he brought in the cops and a drug-sniffing dog to find them, ha ha! In other news, Centerville has a serious drug problem in its high school.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 5/5/18

“Baby rabies” is the kind of rabies you get when you’re bitten by a rabid baby. It’s the worst kind of rabies there is and as a medical professional Rex should not be joking about it!

Family Circus, 5/5/18

Aww, isn’t that cute! The car is Jeffy’s cloth mother!

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Mark Trail, 4/14/18

OK, fine, Jim isn’t dead, but he did have a good chunk of his shirt just completely ripped off, and is now standing around awkwardly, nipple exposed to the forest breezes. If this circus storyline has taught us one thing, it’s that the woods are full of dangers that can rip your sleeve clean off, leaving your muscular upper arms sexily visible.

Marvin, 4/14/18

Marvin is a strip that, infuriatingly, bounces back and forth between its infant characters’ speech being presented in thought bubbles or straight up word balloons, and it’s a small thing I’m willing to overlook, except in cases like today, where the distinction between actual, literal speech and, like, psychic baby communication is important! Marvin has more than a five-word vocabulary! He says seven words in the first panel of this comic strip! I swear to god, they plant these just so I’ll say “No, really, go back to the jokes about shitting.”

Family Circus, 4/14/18

Ha ha, look how angry Jeffy is as Dolly embellishes on the sacred word! Looks like he’s found the heretic!

Gasoline Alley, 4/14/18

Guys, who … who does Gasoline Alley think Paris Hilton is

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Gil Thorp, 4/11/18

Well, it was bound to happen: the Social Justice Teens are feeling kind of bad about defeating Marty by goading him into cussing on-air. You’d think they’d take the attitude of “Yay, the sports radio guy who literally nobody liked even before we found out he was a racist isn’t going to be saying rude things about our friends on-air anymore!” But these kids sense, at the periphery of their minds, that they are in fact the current protagonists in an ongoing narrative; and while in real life we actually enjoy getting what we want, within a story a protagonist without an antagonist is dull and lifeless, and they know it.

Mary Worth, 4/11/18

Mary Worth, obviously, doesn’t feel itself restricted by such conventional narrative niceties. Sure, the current storyline of Wilbur’s mid-grade ennui appears to lack dramatic tension, drifting as it is from a little shower singin’ to some light shoe purchasing. But in fact the true interest to the reader is the nature of the story itself: is something actually going to happen one of these days? Or when we picture the future, should we imagine Wilbur thought-ballooning while shopping at various chain stores, forever?

Family Circus, 4/11/18

Generally speaking the circumstances in which you’d eat off a tray like this are that you’re eating dinner in front of the TV, which is literally every child’s fondest wish, so it seems weird that Billy is so outraged here. The prissy face really sells it, though. “Mother, not only are we watching televised entertainment rather than earnestly discussing our day over dinner, but the lack of a table means that there are no arbitrary rules of etiquette to enforce! This is sheer anarchy! Also, I dropped a lot of whatever this green goop is on the rug.”