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Judge Parker, 3/30/13

Judge Parker storylines are generally months long and unpredictably aimless, but I have to say that I’m surprised at how quickly “Judge Parker Junior’s elopement doesn’t go as planned” has morphed into “Judge Parker Senior is looking for a way out of his loveless second marriage.”

Blondie, 3/30/31

On a possibly related note, the Bumsteads are pretty much done with each other sexually, as are the Woodleys.

Mark Trail, 3/30/31

Later: “Mark, did you have a chance to get rid of Rusty forever and screw it up? I do not like hearing about this!”

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Better Half, 3/27/13

Seeing “FOOD COURT” in big letters like this gave me a brainstorm for a hit new reality show, Food Court, in which an ersatz jurist in a black robe would preside over faux trials in which, say, snacks that claim to be “healthy” would be cross-examined by medical experts who would prove that their sodium levels were off the charts and nutritive value was essentially nil. But then I saw the guy in the background in the vaguely Renaissance outfit, and I imagined Food Court, a historical comedy-drama in which a 15th century Italian prince rules over a Italian statelet and spends his time mediating the sometimes violent battles between rival restauranteurs. These ruminations were fairly inane, admittedly, but surely no worse than whatever Stanley is babbling about. Harriet is right to ignore him and look at whatever fun thing is on her phone instead.

Apartment 3-G, 3/27/13

Haha, I love how quickly Margo has gone from caffeinated semi-enthusiasm to heavy-lidded ennui. “So, this is about money? You want me to write you a check? If I get my checkbook out, that will shut you up about whatever do-gooder nonsense you’re on about, and I get to eat breakfast in peace?”

Judge Parker, 3/27/13

“We’ll both have the salmon with a caesar salad, Rudy … I’m buying, which means I get to make all the decisions! I’ll thank you not to address Mr. Driver by name or look directly at him for the duration of this meal. All lunch-related queries go through me, the paymaster.”

Archie, 3/27/13

Wait, but wouldn’t Archie’s dad have noticed the hamsters squeaking and moving around if they were alivAAAUUGH DON’T THINK ABOUT IT DON’T THINK ABOUT IT

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Gil Thorp, 3/12/13

Oh, hey, Gil Thorp, remember that thing? What’s been up there? Well, let’s see … the miraculous basketball-improving peacock that Scott Fowler (OMG “FOWL”ER I LITERALLY JUST GOT THIS) thought was his reincarnated little brother was just some dude’s peacock that kept getting out of its pen. Gil, after making fun of Scott for his idiocy, decided to harness the idiocy of everyone else on the team by having them go hang out with the peacock and collectively gain its completely fake magic powers. This got them into the playdowns, apparently! Too bad they’re going up against Hamilton, a team that has its own lucky creature deal going on. Do you think this pig contains the spirit of their point guard’s dead dad or something? Whatever, it will surely be enough to ensure that Milford is ignominiously defeated in the first round.

Judge Parker, 3/12/13

Call it Stockholm Syndrome, but I will never tire of Judge Parker strips where beautiful people talk about money while petting pretty pretty horses. Did you even know how lucrative maritime law is, peasant? Of course not! You’re probably unfamiliar with even the basics of yachting lore!

Mark Trail, 3/12/13

“Bass boats … fishermen … the usual stuff … docks … bait shops … vans … fish guts left lying out on docks … wow, this kid sure is lonely and sad and obsessed with fishing, am I right? Maybe it’s for the best that a great fisherman like Rod Bassy has kidnapped him.”