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Gil Thorp, 2/20/08

Today new Gil Thorp artist Frank Bolle met his first real challenge. I’m not talking about panel one, in which three Lady Mudlark hoopers decide, in the apparent total absence of an opposing team, to play against one another; and I’m not talking about panel two, which depicts Lisa Wyche apparently being dropped from a great height directly onto her wrist. Those are just par for the course over at Gil Thorp headquarters. No, just as Eduardo Barreto’s trial by fire at Judge Parker came when he first grappled with Abbey Spencer’s sexy red mullet, so Bolle must eventually confront Gil’s epic flattop head-on. And … it’s a punt! It’s only your third day, so we’ll let it slide, Frank, but you can’t hide behind word balloons forever.

I’m not sure I approve of Gil’s new face — not angular enough, and a little too much like Robert Mitchum and/or Rock Hudson, as several commentors noted. I do, however, approve of Mimi buttoning up what appears to be one of Gil’s shirts, implying that we’ve just missed some red-hot Coach-Thorp-on-Coach-Thorp action. During which, apparently, they were talking about Lisa Wyche’s wrist injury. Obviously.

Marvin, 2/20/08

So, earlier this week we learned that Marvin’s mom is unable to continue her career as a romance novelist because caring for Marvin has left her unable to even imagine what passion and sexuality might be like. (By the way, did any of you know that Marvin’s mom was supposed to be a writer? I didn’t, and I’ve read the strip every damn day for the last two and a half years.) As a result, she’s given up on the romance genre and instead decided to churn out a series of pregnancy-themed sub-Foxworthyisms called “Belly Laffs.” In an act that profoundly blurs the line between narrative structure and narrative content, the Marvin strip itself will similarly follow her down the road towards an easy paycheck; in the first entry in the series, the strip boldly proclaims its intention to phone it in by showcasing not one but two panels consisting a pregnant woman from the neck down and nothing else.

By the way, anyone who’s see Marvin in action knows that Jenny drank while pregnant, and heavily.

Dennis the Menace, 2/20/08

I know it’s one of my jokes that Dennis isn’t very menacing these days, but at least once a week I goggle at his completely nonthreatening antics — he pushes “the best things in life are free” treacle! he offers seminars on Polynesian sociolinguistics! he launches public health campaigns! — and I think, “OK, that’s it. He absolutely, positively, can not get any less menacing than this.” Then, of course, came the Star Wars cosplay.

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OK, I’m behind by a day (I blame friends coming in from out of town for the holiday weekend) but before I do the Sunday strips and the Monday strips and the COTWs, I need to make public a shocking personnel change (and thanks to several faithful readers for the tip). As I noted earlier, previous evidence indicated that Gil Thorp was in the market for a new artist. Today the artist they’ve settled on was revealed, and it was … Frank Bolle, the current artist of Apartment 3-G! No, really:

Gil Thorp, 2/18/08

If anyone has any kind of insider scoop on this somewhat surprising move that they’d like to share, feel free to e-mail me. And for everyone who thought that, under a new artist, we’d finally be able to tell the characters in Gil Thorp apart, I say: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA.

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Blondie, 2/15/08

I suppose by “old college sweatshirt” Dagwood means “sweatshirt I wore when I was in college,” but when I think “college sweatshirt” I would visualize a sweatshirt that has, you know, a college’s logo or mascot on it, or at least its name. Then again, Dagwood went to college during the Harding Administration, when there were probably only about ten or twelve active universities in the United States, so maybe the colors were enough. Back then, the mere sight of a blue and black garment let you know that you were in the presence of a graduate of Dagwood’s esteemed alma mater. I’m sure he has many fond memories of rooting on The Stripes on the base-ball field.

Gil Thorp, 2/15/08

You might recall that after the famed self-clubbing incident of early 2007, Tyler was banished to intensive psychiatric treatment. Obviously it worked like gangbusters. He’s gone all season without bludgeoning himself; and, what’s more, thanks to his new self-knowledge, he’s gained an almost uncanny insight into how the human psyche works. It’s almost as if he’s able to project himself out of his spit-curled head and into Andrew Gregory’s slightly longer spit-curled head. Gil and Kaz will be thankful for his help in this case, obviously, but may grow increasingly nervous about just what kind of mind-reading monster they’ve created.

Lockhorns, 2/15/08

The Lockhorns schtick is generally not difficult to wrap one’s head around — they hate each other, you see — so the occasional panel composed of complete nonsense is all the more surprising. Who exactly is Leroy playing chess against? Why are all the pieces the same color? Why does Loretta’s “sleepy eyes” face look exactly like her “black eyes from getting in a car wreck” face? And how does it all fit in with their endless attempts to destroy one another, as everything inevitably does?

Mark Trail, 2/15/08

This may be the greatest ever Mark Trail that doesn’t actually feature Mark punching anybody. At last, we get to see a bear dish out the punishment and hostility, though alas some kind of syndicate rule seems to forbid the depiction of the Neanderthal henchman being eviscerated, so we instead need to settle for the sight of him fleeing in terror unrealistically quickly. I do like the fact that the widow Malone seems to merely stand around arching her eyebrows sexily while her muscle is nearly mauled. “Sorry, the bullets in this rifle are only for the elimination of one Mark Trail, not for some great furry beast. Perhaps you should have made use of your own weapon rather than casting it aside and screaming ‘AHHHH..’, you bearded cretin!”

Marvin, 2/15/08

OK, Marvin, that’s … that’s enough with the ass jokes. For serious now.