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Ah, relaxing on a Monday night … done with work … maybe I’ll surf the Internet a bit … read the comics — wait, comics? Aw, crap, I knew there was something I was forgetting!

Yeah, uh, let’s do some quick Sunday strips to catch up!

Marvin, 3/16/08

Just when I think Marvin can’t get any more delightfully charming, we’re treated to the spectacle of Marvin’s parents engaging in witty banter as their child stews in a mess of his own creation. I just hope that when time has ravaged my lower GI and urinary systems, I’m capable of making droll witticisms while I wait for my caregivers to clean off the filth.

Doodles by Mac and Sack, 3/16/08

I’m sure little comics-reading children across America enjoyed this week’s Doodles, which featured an adorable little koala unable to sleep because he’s forced to sleep inside the mouth of a monstrous insect-beast, presumably to satisfy his creator’s sadistic sense of whimsy.

Plus, a couple of charming panels:

Panel from Apartment 3-G, 3/16/08

Margo dropping the star-bomb isn’t really news, but Margo cussing because she can’t find her other glove is definitely amusing, and Margo using her gloved hand to point to her non-gloved hand so as to demonstrate the missingness of the other glove makes me positively giddy.

Panel from Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/16/08

Oh, June, are you sure this is a conversation that you really want to have?

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Blondie, 5/13/07

The saddest thing is that the central joke of this strip — that Blondie has been utterly charmed into an aroused frenzy by her pampering, and is eager to discovery what other surprises her husband has prepared for her, while Dagwood has one foot out the door as he’s planning to head out for a “men’s foursome” — is so in keeping with the well-established dynamic of the Bumstead marriage that I barely noticed it. The thing that really disturbed me is the heart that’s drifted up into Blondie’s word balloon in the final panel. I have no idea what it’s supposed to represent semantically. I suppose it could be “love” as a noun and term of endearment, rather than “love” as a verb, which it usually stands for — but then it ought to have a comma after it. Really, the fact that it’s sitting after a comma just makes it all the more anomalous to me. Mostly I’m worried that Dag and Blondie have ingested some kind of potent hallucinogen and now believe themselves to be conversing using abstract symbols rather than normal human speech.

Family Circus, 5/13/07

This strip is a subtle but powerful reminder of the strict laws of patriarchy that govern the Family Circus. Note that Dolly wonders who their mother would be if her parents hadn’t met, not who their father would be. On Mother’s Day, she assumes that her mother is just an interchangeable womb who could have been replaced by any number of other females from other times and places and their family would have remained pretty much the same.

I really enjoy the fact that all the other comics moms in Billy’s thought balloon are just sort of idly looking off into the distance, except for one. FBOFW’s Elly is looking straight at the eldest Keane boy in goggle-eyed horror, as if contemplating how excruciating it would have been to pass that enormous melonhead through her birth canal.

Doodles by Mac & Sack, 5/13/07

Someone’s kind of fixated on the idea of being crushed to death by a boa constrictor, and it makes me uncomfortable. I’m also disturbed the puffed-out cheeks of “the Doughboy” in the Doodle Zoo: they clearly indicate that he’s dying horribly as the smart-ass little koala cracks wise. I am kind of amused that the Doughboy seems to have lost his “Pillsbury” moniker at the last minute due to trademark infringement concerns, though it does bring to mind the notion of an American infantryman, having survived the hell of combat in the trenches against the Hun’s forces on the Western Front, being felled by an unexpected snake attack.

Panels from Dennis the Menace, 5/13/07

I’m not showing you the rest of this strip, because these panels perfectly set up the Dennis the Menace strip we’d all like to see, the one where Mr. Wilson murders Dennis with a pair of garden shears.

Panel from Mary Worth, 5/13/07

Since Vera’s so angry at Von, it’s ironic that she’s remembering him at the height of his glory: all decked out in his yellow suit, shirt, and facepaint, standing in front of that blue door, and disco dancing like nobody’s business.

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Beetle Bailey, 4/29/07

The last four panels of this strip make up one of the saddest and most poignant little vignettes of homoerotic longing you’ll ever see. Denied their one outlet of physical contact, Beetle and Sarge take a long, wordless walk away from the base that defines their lives, through the countryside, through an enormous ice field in the middle of the city, and finally to some incredibly starry place of refuge. C’mon, guys, you’re miles away from anyone. You can at least let your hands touch.

Family Circus, 4/29/07

I am an unapologetically misanthropic bastard, but even I’m not such a sneering, above-it-all crank that I will hate on this cartoon. I will state now and for the record that I am and always have been pro-hugging. However, I do question the “silent performance” selling point of hugs that I’ve highlighted for you above. Is the fact that hugs are relatively quiet really one of their advantages over other forms of affection? Is their silence to be understood as their differentiator from loud, sloppy tongue kissing or boisterous slaps on the back? What if you and your intended hugging target are wearing raincoats, or pleather clothing, resulting in hugs that are squeaky? I’m all for hugs, but I’m just not sold on this angle, is what I’m saying.

Judge Parker, 4/29/07

Cedric is being remarkably blasé about the fact that his wife is a crazy crazy stalking lady, and whoever the word balloon on the right is coming from is way too ready to file her away under “good stalker,” but this cartoon is eight kinds of awesome for Neddy’s “Uh.. define insanely!” line. “Holy cow … I just got here” is a good runner up. “I mean, I was planning on cutting a swath through every married domestic in the Île-de-France région, but 48 hours a little fast even for me.”

Doodles by Mac and Sack, 4/29/07

I’m not going to get into the fact that this stupid damn koala (who is apparently named “Bosco” for some reason) has gotten himself tangled up in yet another larger, meaner beast’s digestive tract, or that, I wouldn’t have chosen Benedict Arnold as an archetypical liar (though I admit that his traitorous behavior probably involved a certain degree of dissimulation), or that what the Lying Lion is doing looks less like lying and more like smugly contemplating how exactly he’s going to prepare Bosco — in a nice white wine reduction sauce, perhaps — before devouring him. No, I want to point out, with disgust and disdain, the “what’s missing” panel, which I won’t even dignify with the name “puzzle.” Hmm, I wonder what’s wrong with this lion? Right number of toes … full, lustrous mane … two eyes … a tail … nope, I’m not seeing it.

Mark Trail, 4/29/07

God, first birds, now frogs. Sunday Mark Trails are a never-ending stream of filthy animal porn. I like to imagine that the formulation “a little romancing” was the end result of lengthy Pibgorn-style battle with the editors over acceptable content.