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Herb and Jamaal, 6/8/06

Jamaal looks like he’s selecting a volume from one of those fake bookcases full of near-identical tomes that shysters stand in front of in late-night TV commercials for law firms specializing in personal injury cases. Maybe the artist originally intended for Jamaal to be watching TV — an environment where his loungewear would be more apropos — but, like Jamaal himself, decided to do a little last-minute semantic shifting. Not that his internal musing on PC names for his loungewear makes any kind of sense anyway. I guess what I’m trying to say is: kids, don’t start with a punchline and then work your way backwards from there. It isn’t going to work out well for you.

Gil Thorp, 6/8/06

Who says the artists over at Gil Thorp aren’t very good? I have never seen a more harrowing look of sheer horror on any comic character’s face than the one that the Rap Dog is sporting in panel two. If anyone wonders how tough a nut Jolene Raptor’s going to be to crack, all they need to do is look into Brent’s glassy, terrified eyes right there.

Apartment 3-G, 6/8/06

“Things like … my roommates’ sexual orientation!” *sob*

You know, Lu Ann’s statement in the first panel would ring truer if we had even a shred of a sense of what Tommie’s personality was like. As it is, I think I can speak for the entire Apartment 3-G-reading public in saying that I have no idea what kind of party would be Tommie’s kind of party. “Tommie, I know you don’t like leaving the house or talking to people. Thanks for making the sacrifice!”

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Dilbert, 5/23/06

Panel one: Trademark minimalist Dilbert art, straight on. Panel two: Trademark minimalist Dilbert art, at a 30 degree angle. Panel three: Trademark minimalist Dilbert art, through a window. Conclusion: You can dress these drawings up, but you can’t really take them out.

Herb and Jamaal, 5/23/06

For everybody’s who’s been waiting since 1971 for Herb and Jamaal’s take on glam rock-inspired androgyny: at long last, your day has arrived. Note cunning use of passive voice in punchline, maintaining the mystery for all of us, for some mysterious and unfunny reason.

Marvin, 5/23/06

Marvin has spent the last week and half lingering on a “Marvin’s grandfather has become obsessed with Sudoku” storyline so mind-warpingly boring that it makes Gasoline Alley’s DMV-a-thon look like the car chase scene in the French Connection by comparison. (The game has been referred to as “Yunoklu” throughout; I imagine that the reasons for this are trademark-related, because they certainly can’t be humor-related.) Today’s episode does have a glimmer of interest, however, in that blind panic has turned one (and only one) of Grandpa’s glasses lenses blue. If you can explain this, you’re a better comics-explainer than I.

Momma, 5/23/06

Hmm, there’s some odd quoting going on here: “Show biz” is quoted when Momma says it, but not when Francis does. I wonder what Finger Quotin’ Margo thinks of that?

Damn, girl, that’s cold.

Cockroach update: Another freakishly huge representative of order Blattodea in the cat’s dish this morning, leading to a humiliating repeat of yesterday’s pathetic drama. That’s twice in two days; in the 36 months of the food bowl sitting in that exact spot, it had only happened once before that. Are the roaches getting smarter? Are they plotting to rise up against us? I’m disturbed. Anyone have any bright ideas on roach control?

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Family Circus, 4/5/06

PJ’s squalling. Jeffy’s furious. Barfy looks like he’s about to live up to his name. Yep, dad, this is why you became a workaholic. The less time you spend under that hideous drop ceiling, the better.

Herb and Jamaal, 4/5/06

For a while, I thought that the vertical line near our patient’s posterior was supposed to be his buttcrack, which we were seeing thanks to some cubist-style unrealistic perspective, but after some consideration I think it’s just the edge of his hospital gown, and we’re just seeing sidal cheek nudity — naughty, but not offensively icky. It’s a delicate balance when you want to do a rear end gag in a family comic strip. I imagine the artist and the syndicate going back and forth on this one until there was just enough tuckus showing to make the punchline clear, but not so much as to give the bluehairs a case of the vapors. They were ultimately successful, but, sadly, all that effort was still put out in the service of a joke about Jamaal’s ass.