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Mary Worth, 3/14/13

The tale of Mary’s new neighbors, the Kinleys, is rumbling along! We’ve learned that Beth is a professional romance novelist and that her mother Elinor is mean and belittling about everything, especially how stupid the romance novel genre is (this being the market that is presumably paying for the condo that Elinor lives in, but let’s leave that aside for the moment). But today we learn that Elinor doesn’t just hate romance novels; she’s disgusted by her daughter’s failure to experience romance herself. “You know nothing about real-life romance! You’ve never felt your heart beat at the sight of your beloved! You’ve never held hands with the guy you’re going steady with down at the malt shop! You’ve never let some dude put his thingie in your hoo-hah! You’re a fraud, a disgusting fraud!”

It’s surprising, really, that someone with a supportive mother like Elinor hasn’t been able to work up any kind of romantic self-confidence. Anyway, we all know, of course, that Beth is going to fall under the spell of depressed shut-in divorce Tom Harpan. The key question is: will Beth move into Tom’s apartment, probably several yards away from where Elinor will be staying? Or will they all live together in mutual animosity, to cut down on costs?

Gasoline Alley, 3/14/11

Meanwhile, the battle for the rights to sex up this donkey, for love or money, continues! It’s only Thursday, so you’ve got at least two more days of this horrorshow.

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Heathcliff, 2/28/13

Well, isn’t this a surreal delight! I have no idea what exactly is happening here, if any “thing” can truly be said to be “happening” in such a nonlinear dreamscape. “Hold it right there, Professor,” the strangely well dressed pet store clerk bellows, as a flock of oddly identical birds arises in precise formation from Heathcliff’s pipe. Why attempt to impose some kind of dull linear “meaning” on this episode at all? Why not just enjoy it in all its trippy nonsense?

Gasoline Alley, 2/28/13

Meanwhile, in Gasoline Alley, beloved rustic Rufus is still planning on marrying a donkey, for money. They’re … they’re really doing this, huh? I would have though they’d have stopped doing this by now.

Marvin, 2/28/13

You know, before today I would’ve said that Marvin had pretty thoroughly explored the dramatic and comedic possibilities of feces, but I hadn’t even dreamed of the concept of revenge-shitting.

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Apartment 3-G, 2/18/13

Margo wakes up from her asphyxiation coma and just naturally assumes Tommie has dragged her home from yet another blackout bender.

Gasoline Alley, 2/18/13

Rufus needs to arrange a sham marriage in a hurry to secure his inheritance under the terms of a really terribly drafted will, but he can’t find a human volunteer because rich or poor, he’s still Rufus. Still, none of that excuses Joel pimping out his mule. And Becky’s enthusiasm for the arrangement is starting to creep me out.

Momma, 2/18/13

As Gertrude Stein once said of Oakland, “There is no there there.” At least not nearly enough for a vaccination scar.

Gil Thorp, 2/18/13

Oh imagine that, the peacock wasn’t really the magical score-enhancing reincarnation of his tragically dead brother after all, just the wayward pet of some amiable neighbor-doofus. But Scott will say anything to deny the plain truth: “Um, … do you mean today? The sun was in my eyes! Bitch set me up! What was that noise? She said she was 18! My dog ate it! Greedo shot first! I took a wide stance! It’s not you, it’s me! I thought they were tomato plants! I never got your message! She’s just a friend! I was drunk! The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat! How could I have known it was loaded? I swear nothing like this ever happened to me before! The heart wants what it wants! I didn’t see the sign! I was dead at the time — on the Moon, with Steve! Everybody does it! Wait, I was just holding it for somebody! Ida Know! NOT ME!”

— Uncle Lumpy