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Beetle Bailey, 1/17/07

Wow, so I bet you never thought that the latest chapter of Beetle Bailey’s ongoing storyline about Beetle’s failure to bust a move on Miss Buxley would take a turn for the regulations-breaking same-sex affectionate. Anyone who reads this strip regularly has seen this coming for years, of course; I’m more surprised that Miss Buxley, who works on a military base and spends most of her time with earthy military types, is so shocked by cussing that she opens her eyes wide enough for us to see the irises for the first time, like, ever.

Garfield, 1/17/07

Now, look here: one of the defining features — some might say the defining feature — of Garfield is his compulsive eating problem; longtime Garfield readers know that if the fat cat ever did get his paws on a couple of chocolate chip cookies, his primary mission would be to cram them down his gullet with a minimum of chewing, not to festoon some whimsical snow sculpture with them. Well, if they had to violate a fundamental, long-established character trait, at least they did it in the service of a really great joke … oh, wait.

Dick Tracy, 1/17/07

A lot of you have marveled at Detective Tracy’s ability to get a hold of all of the United States’ intelligence agencies at once on his cell phone; I’m more concerned about his obvious joy in giving some terrifying Big Brother-esque mind-reading (and mind-erasing) device to every spook in town. Look for a wave of laws out of Congress setting mandatory sentences for thoughtcrimes. Thankfully, I have my tinfoil hat to protect me.

Hi and Lois, 1/17/07

Good God, but panel two is disturbing. I guess the cane is supposed to indicate that this freakish, gigantic baby-headed thing is an old lady rather than some kind of circus sideshow attraction, but it doesn’t really help.

Incidentally, I too would be upset if a sunbeam urinated on my carpet. And in panel one, it looks like Trixie’s doing some open-mouthed thought-ballooning. It’s almost as bad as a cat trying amplify the volume of its thoughts.

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For Better Or For Worse, 11/28/06

No, you see Ellie, in the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate yet equally important groups: the strong, handsome, interesting police, who investigate crime; and the witnesses, who mumble testimony through their cinnamon-bun-crumb-laden mustaches and try to avoid mentioning their total contempt for the niceties of fair trials in a common law jurisdiction. This one’s already out of Paul’s hands, I’m afraid.

Seriously, though, this is the worst thing ever. I hate all of you, die, die, die, die.

Apartment 3-G, 11/28/06

Hey, man, who’s that crazy cat with the sideburns and the granny glasses? Is it another one of Alan’s beatnik art friends? Crazy kick, man! Outta site!

Garfield, 11/28/06

Forced to finally confront the concept of human sexuality, Jon Arbuckle has apparently suffered a massive stroke. One can only hope that Garfield will be as skilled a caretaker as Iris is for Jim Patterson, but he’s more likely to lose interest and eventually just eat his hapless patient.

Mark Trail, 11/28/06

What … but … I … just … buh …

[A few more moments of incoherent sputtering ensues.]

NOW LOOK HERE! Just because we all were like, “Oooh, Molly, we love Molly, Molly’s so cute, oh no, what will happen to Molly?” doesn’t mean our appetite for adorable animals in trouble is limitless. We recognize blatant emotional manipulation when we see it, and the Adorable Adolescent Beaver Who Isn’t Quite Ready To Leave The Lodge is just such manipulation wrapped up in smooth brown fur with a big flat tail at one end.

Oh, who am I kidding. Oh my God, what if Molly and the beaver meet and have adorable adventures in the woods together. SO CUTE!!!!

What sort of little boy wears his vintage 1940s Boy Scout uniform, complete with cravat, to dinner? A sad and maladjusted little boy, that’s what kind. Rusty should get together with that other comics misfit, little Sarah Morgan. Except that, what with June off screaming at tweakers and Rex off doing … well, whatever it is he’s doing, probably cruising for anonymous gay sex in the city parks, nobody really seems to be much paying attention to her, and she’s probably starved to death by now.

Funky Winkerbean, 11/28/06

You might think that this is the most horrifying thing you can imagine, but my wife’s been to a baby shower where people microwaved candy bars in diapers so they looked exactly like you’d think melted candy bars in a diaper would look and then passed them around and everyone had to guess what kind of candy bar was in each. So frankly I think the concept of a stripper dressed (for the moment) as Santa Claus giving a lap dance to an extremely pregnant one-armed woman sounds quite charming in comparison. At least all these blatantly randy women aren’t dressed as sexy elves. Let’s cling to that shred of dignity.

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Slylock Fox, 11/27/06

Today Slylock Fox takes a break from its usual kid-friendly fare to take us on a voyage into a shadowy demimonde of sleaze and degradation. Pretty much every aspect of this drawing is magnificent, from the scantily clad nightclub ladies, to the enormous purple-suited dog-thing (presumably their pimp) boogying down behind them, to the impassive bull bouncer standing outside, to Max Mouse’s decision to wear earmuffs and a scarf but no shirt.

My question is: Is this the same beaver who got his luggage stolen at LAX a couple of weeks ago? Why is he such a frequent victim of crime? I’m guessing it’s because he looks so hilarious when he’s indignant.

Mark Trail, 11/27/06

Yeah, Mark, I’m sure he’ll be very excited to learn that Molly’s safe, especially considering that he had no reason to believe that she wouldn’t be safe, since he left her in the hands of an experienced outdoorsman and all. It’s like the time I took care of a friend’s cat when she was out of the country, and the cat had some pretty disgusting gastrointestinal problems, but I didn’t tell her about it until after I took the cat to the vet and got it all worked out. Except I sought medical attention for the cat as soon as I realized he was sick instead of leaving him in the back of an open jeep so that he could be kidnapped by morons with stupid hair. So, my point, Trail, is good luck casually playing this bearnapping incident off when you go see Buck in the hospital.

Yes, that moose is talking out of its butt in the second panel. No, I don’t know why that’s happening or how to make it stop.

Luann, 11/27/06

You know, many months ago, I completely in jest accused Sally Forth of taking payola from Target and/or Rush. I wish I could say that I have no actual suspicions about today’s Luann, but the floating little ® bug after “Home Depot” gives me the uncomfortable feeling that we’re witnessing some kind of horrifying corporate synergy in the making. The only shred of hope I have to cling to is that the ® is subscripted, not superscripted as it should be, so it practically looks like somebody’s trademarked the word “fix” (which, frankly, I wouldn’t put past Home Depot®).

Anyway, all this speculation about artistic whoredom has at least blessedly distracted me from the joke in this strip, which is the always hilarious MEN ARE FROM MARS AND WOMEN ARE FROM VENUS HAW HAW WHAT’RE YA GONNA DO? Because I’m feeling generous, though, I will say that Momma DeGroot’s facial expression in the second panel is pretty funny.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/27/06

Like Troy Gainer, I’m not actually a doctor, but I’m still pretty sure that nobody’s eyes look like June’s in panel two unless they’ve already consumed copious amounts of meth. I’m beginning to see why she’s so eager to hook up with Niki’s mom.

By the way, I defy anyone to come up with a good explanation for a sock lying on top of a lampshade that doesn’t involve a set dresser presented with instructions that contain the phrase “cartoonishly squalid.”

Garfield, 11/27/06

Today’s Garfield appears to contain a reference to Jon’s penis.

Apartment 3-G, 11/27/06

Today’s Apartment 3-G appears to contain a reference to one of two slang terms for Eric Mills’s penis.

Actually, it took Mrs. C., romantic that she is, to point out to me that the four-letter word to which Tommie is referring is probably “love.” In my defense, I have a hard time conceiving of “Margo” and “love” in the same sentence. Margo requires worship, and servicing. Love doesn’t really enter into the equation.

Bizarre Apartment 3-G fashion update: Tommie’s weird white-sweatshirt-over-dusty-pink-polo-shirt combo seems to be slowly morphing into a slightly kickier futuristic two-tone zip-up jumpsuit. And while Margo’s decision to wear a white micro-miniskirt to Thanksgiving dinner was ultimately successful in the rich-guy-seducing department, it was also an embarrassing gravy stain disaster waiting to happen.

Funky Winkerbean, 11/27/06

Attention, comics writers who are thinking of ending a strip with a gentle bit of punny wordplay and depicting the characters engaged in said wordplay demonstrating through their facial expressions their mild appreciation for same: we already have one For Better Or For Worse and do not require another. Thank you.