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Herb and Jamaal, 3/31/11

You can’t really call this the gayest Herb and Jamaal ever — not in a world where this strip exists — but still, a couple of guys takin’ off their shirts and inspectin’ each other’s bods — that seems just a little bit homoerotic, right? It’s all good fun until we get to panel three. Jamaal’s nose stands out straight and stiff as he admires what he thinks is his friend’s good fashion sense, then almost immediately retract into flaccid tinyness when he finds out that Herb has body hair, like a normal male human. I don’t know what’s more unsettling: that Jamaal has a nose-cock, or that Jamaal finds sweater vests so deeply arousing.

Apartment 3-G, 3/31/11

You know, we’ve all had so much fun making fun of the extended failure to explain who or what Dan Diller is that I just realized something: nobody actually cares, and drawing it out isn’t making anybody care anymore. So knock it off, Apartment 3-G; it’s not amusing. Do those people sitting behind Iris and Dan look like they’re enjoying themselves, even when you take the fact that they’ve paid good money to see a play starring Tommie into account?

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 3/31/11

Ha ha, that Elviney’s the real death panel, amiright? No, seriously, I think she’s taking him somewhere secluded to beat him to death with that enormous skillet.

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Barney Google, 2/23/11

Longtime readers know that I’m fascinated by Parson Tuttle, Hootin’ Holler’s sole clergyman and a notorious mooch and fraud. Though we met his wife before when we went shoppin’ wif her, it never occurred to me to wonder why she didn’t accompany him on his foraging expeditions among his flock; I guess I assumed that this was not one of the things that parson’s wives do. Does she sit at home alone, waiting for whatever secondhand scraps the parson brings back from his surly parishioners? Anyway, today Loweezy has decided to use her backwards community’s iron-clad gender roles to shame Tuttle into eating at home. Unfortunately for her, as the parson’s insouciant grin in panel three demonstrates, he has no shame.

Herb and Jamaal, 2/23/11

“Ha ha, just kidding! There’s nothing I like better than smugly unleashing the little jokes I think up on hapless service personnel. But seriously, can I take out a life insurance policy on my best friend and business partner, whom I’m totally 100 percent not planning to kill?”

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Herb and Jamaal, 2/14/11

You guys, sorry these comics are so late in appearing! The Houston Chronicle’s usually convenient comics page was missing about half of its comics for much of the day, and then my evening was dedicated to Valentine’s-related activities. But I’m sure glad I waited, because I was rewarded by the triumphant return of Herb and Jamaal! Yes, this beloved comic was missing for the past … several days? Week? Indeterminate time-unit? I can’t really be bothered to remember. Apparently this absence was a not a result of the Chron’s accounts payable department neglecting to write a check to Creators Syndicate, but rather because the Chron’s upper management was locked in heated negotiations to get this coveted strip back in the paper. Did we miss the moment when Jamaal and Yolanda, who became America’s Sweethearts by default when Seth and Summer were cancelled, finally got together? No, according to this conversation between Yolanda and some mail carrier person whom we’ve never seen before!

Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/14/11

It’s hard to look at Rex’s freakishly oversized mitt in panel one and not imagine that he’s going to follow up “Dex has already had a taste of unbridled spending” with “and now I’m going to give him a taste of my pimp hand!” Sadly, he instead goes on to actually show a shred of empathy with another human being, which is frankly not the sort of thing the Rex Morgan I know goes in for.

Wizard of Id, 2/14/11

Ha ha, the Wiz — who, as one of the king’s chief advisors, is surely well off — is stealing from impoverished peasants, using sinister magic! At least he isn’t just physically assaulting them, for the crime of being poor.

Mary Worth, 2/14/11

Based on Mary’s nervous coquettishness and Wilbur’s frank leer as he closes the door, this scene reads to me as if Mary’s come to learn some perverse sexual technique — one that only Wilbur can teach her, and one that Mary needs to know if she’s to keep Dr. Jeff’s interest in her. Oh, I’m sorry, did I just disgust and repulse you to the extent that you’ll never want to experience sex, or even human affection, again? Well, too bad. Happy Valentine’s Day!