Apartment 3-G, 1/11/08
Lu Ann’s parents are remarkably clear-sighted about their daughter.
Mary Worth, 1/11/08
Picking up dog shit turned out be significantly more distasteful than Mary had imagined it would be.
For Better Or For Worse, 1/11/08
John plans to kill his wife and feast on the delicious organ meats within her body.
Family Circus, 1/11/08
At that moment, any doubts Big Daddy Keane had about his plan to drown the children disappeared.
I know I said I was going to gloss over the strips that ran during my vacation, but, you know, I had to read them, at least the ones that have continuing storylines, if I didn’t want to be totally lost, and once I started reading them, well, some of them just were really calling out for the treatment and … I know, it’s a sickness. Anyway, here, quickly, are the high points of December 23 through January 1!
Judge Parker, 12/24/07
A very gratuitous Christmas came a day early for Abbey Spencer fans. I know that when most of you ladies have a sudden, drug-induced urge to paint your study, you want to slip into something more comfortable — like a halter top and a pair of Daisy Dukes so tight that you’re actually incapable of standing up straight.
Mary Worth, 12/24/07
Chester’s real owner apparently stole him away and, unbeknownst to Mary, replaced him with a plastic replica, if his weird sitting-in-midair position in panel one is any indication.
Spider-Man, 12/24/07
Peter Parker, meanwhile, got the best gift a boy could get: A trip to prison! Oh boy!
Christmas Day usually sees some variously awkward greetings shoehorned into different strips. My two favorites from 2007 were Dick Tracy, which heralded the birth of Our Savior with a scene of a collapsing building and an excitable workingman blathering about being pelted with corpses:
…and Gil Thorp, which proudly featured a set of cramped, noseless horrors that made last year’s Christmas card look museum-worthy:
For Better Or For Worse, 12/26/07
Meanwhile, Anthony has figured out a way to make little Francie accept her new mommy: force her to watch their bland, noodly sexual congress.
Gil Thorp, 12/28/07
Gil Thorp promises to break new dramatic ground in the new year by featuring a high school-aged student-athlete who is arrogant and unpleasant! (And yet how can we hate anyone who throws around put-downs like “climb down off your dinosaur”?)
Mark Trail, 12/29/07
A terminally ill Luke Wilson said, “Don’t waste your time, Trail,” by which he obviously means “Let’s not over-stimulate your readers with any kind of action or excitement when I can just tell them all what happened and then expire quietly.” No word yet on whether Mark will punch his corpse.
Panels from Apartment 3-G, 12/30/07
Margo added another bullet point to her résumé of personal destruction: enabler!
Panel from Judge Parker, 12/30/07
Sam proved, as if we need any more evidence, that he has no intention of having sex with his wife ever again.
For Better Or For Worse, 1/1/08
And, in the first moments of 2008, April took a good, long look at Gerald’s penis. She looks troubled by what she sees.
For Better Or For Worse and They’ll Do It Every Time, 12/18/07
Just to show how deeply the FOOB hooks have sunk into all of our hearts, I’d like to confess that, like several commentors, I was doing the math in my head yesterday when April said that there’d be 14 guests at the Christmas Patterbash. Who would the extra two be? Today we learn that they’ll be Deanna’s parents, which I am quite frankly very pleased about. Deanna’s mother may be awful and hateful, but there will be nobody for that hate to be focused on except her in-laws, and that can only be a good thing. Her constant harping and barely passive aggression should up the chance of someone getting punched in the face, and I’m going to need to hold on to that possibility if I’m going to make it through this.
Deanna may be pleased now about how much help she’ll be getting from her guests in the food prep department, but today’s TDIET holds a clue to her inevitable post-party future. The glassy-eyed Deanna-bot will no doubt be grimly polishing the dishes long into the evening, as Mike teaches the kids how to break things, or, more likely, hides in his attic office, staring at the computer screen and indulging in an inner monologue in which self-doubt provides a thin veneer for self-aggrandizing.
(Bonus Scadutoism: “Reunionite.”)
Apartment 3-G, 12/18/07
Directions Eric could be going with this:
Curtis, 12/18/07
Despite my Curmudgeonly status, I must give props to even those corny jokes that give me little guffaws of joy, and the image that Curtis offers today — of snowflakes that are really tiny elf turds — definitely did that. I might feel differently the next time it snows and I’m unable to get the image out of my head. I also like the way Curtis is rooting around the branches of the Christmas tree, looking for anything even remotely edible to cram down his insatiable gullet.
Dear Funky Winkerbean:
Ahem.
A “SOLO CAR DATE” IS NOT A REAL THING THAT ANYONE ACTUALLY SAYS. REPEATING IT OVER AND OVER WILL NOT MAKE IT A REAL THING THAT ANYONE ACTUALLY SAYS.
I thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
The Comics Curmudgeon
Archie, 12/18/07
“To be honest, though, I think a lot of people are just stopping by his booth to stare at his crotch.”