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Lots of comings and goings in the continuity strips today!

For Better or For Worse, 3/3/08

Hey, it’s Warren, the dashing helicopter pilot! He says his head’s a mess, and he’s come to Liz for clarity. Which more or less proves his point.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/3/08

Big Rex and Little Niki, packin’ out: no fish, but no “disappointment”, either — except for poor Rex, who faces the grim prospect of sex with his wife.

Mark Trail, 3/3/08

Recaps all ’round in Mark Trail, and good news for Johnny Malotte: with Bull dead and Luke in jail, his camp empire will span the whole of Lost Forest. “Hey, Marie, now we can have those nine other kids we always dreamed about!”

Funky Winkerbean, 3/3/08

That’s it? Two weeks of the Pizza World interview just to establish that Funky’s a dick? I’d call it a waste, but squandering two weeks of Funky Winkerbean hardly qualifies. Cue Summer Moore’s championship season — too bad there wasn’t room in panel three for Bull to tell us more about what we read in panel two. C’mon Bull, focus: which of your Westview teams is going to that championship game?

Mary Worth, 3/3/08

Pool party! Pool party! Pool party! And there’s Wilbur, and Chinbeard, and Toeby — and, and Guy on the Stairs! Oh, it’s gonna be great this time, I just know it!

But what on earth are they feeding that leprechaun? And where’s Mary’s customary glass of human blood? Never mind for now — I’m sure all will be explained in the weeks and months ahead.

Pool party! Ahhhhhhh. . . .

– Uncle Lumpy

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Fate, monstrous and empty — a whirling, malevolent wheel;
Well-being is vain, and always fades to nothing – how you plague me!

What goes around comes around in the Sunday funnies:

For Better or for Worse, 3/2/08

Years from now — perhaps at her wedding — you’ll wonder how she turned out like this: the string of pointless relationships she shed so easily. The marriage to some pasty nonentity, based on no more than habit in the vain hope affection would follow. The grandchild — no kin of yours — whimpering alone in the dark.

Remember this night. Your daughter does.

Marvin, 3/2/08

A week of “Laffs” from Mom griping about the trials of pregnancy; now it’s payback time for Baby. Although this “people typing jokes into computers” theme is getting awfully tired, the nasal syringe on the desk is a good sign: after years of poop jokes, Marvin is finally branching out into snot.

Curtis, 3/2/08

O Curtis, consider your life’s path — listen to Barry! Sure, it may amuse you now to mock these good ladies as they try to bring some simple joy into their lives and others’. But consider your future! You could end up like old Cedrick there, clowning to coax one more rattling wheeze out of poor Harry’s failing lungs. Or worse, like some assistant comic blogger hurling slurs at hard-working cartoonists who only . . . who . . . .

Oh, crap.

– Uncle Lumpy

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For Better or For Worse, 2/26/08

AT LONG LAST, THE COUNTDOWN HAS STARTED! Yes, the discovery of this priceless family heirloom starts the clock ticking towards the inevitable merging of Liz and Anthony into a single pasty, spineless entity in the eyes of Canadian law. Since the whole story of Liz’s young adulthood has been the systematic quashing of any and all attitudes that come from outside The Family, obviously whatever she wanted to wear will be cast aside and replaced with this dress — which, if every crawlspace I’ve ever encountered is any indication, is yellowed, mildewy, covered with mouse feces, and smells awful. Oh, she’ll look so beautiful walking down the aisle oh-so-carefully to make sure the ancient, moth-eaten thing doesn’t disintegrate!

Dick Tracy, 2/26/08

OK, Dick Tracy, we all know you get some kind of grandfather-clause pass on gruesome violence, but do you really expect us to just sit back and laugh at your artist villain who basically has a set of testicles for a chin? You know, it’s all fun and games to call Grandpa Jim “Grandpa Chin-nuts” or make fun of poor Clambake, but at least with those characters you don’t get the feeling that the artist actually has some scrotum photos out to use as a model.

Dick went through some bizarre and wholly unrealistic process of tracking down art supply sales to figure out that Dab Stract was behind whatever incomprehensible skullduggery is afoot here. But if he didn’t find the artistic representation of human beings to be a sinful arrogation of God’s exclusive power of creation, he could have probably just, you know, looked at the “gross” paintings and recognized the style.

Family Circus, 2/26/08

Those “cool friends” snowman “joke” cartoons are apparently going to continue for as long as there’s snow on the ground, or until our wills are broken, whichever comes first. Today’s kneeling, praying snowman illustrates a bit too much the limits to the traditional three-sphere school of snowman construction. When you’ve got essentially three giant balls of decreasing size, it looks fine. But when you sketch in leglines like this, it just looks like you’ve got a devout snowman with an enormous ass.