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Judge Parker, 3/18/11

Now, I know you people, and a lot of you are going to read this and be all like “Ha, Sam and Angel are going to be go on a gay date, and ‘preferring jazz to musical theater’ is code for being on the down low, etc., etc., hardy har har.” Which just goes to show that you don’t know Sam Driver, at all. Sam doesn’t enjoy physical and emotional intimacy with other human beings, like normal people do; Sam only gets off on denying others his sexual favors. Bored with only spurning women, he’s taking the first tentative steps towards breaking male hearts as well.

Dick Tracy, 3/18/11

I am enjoying the work of the new Dick Tracy artists! The previous regime, of course, focused on a series of villains who were hideously deformed; the new guys are branching out to people who also emit some kind of horrible odor as well.

Apartment 3-G, 3/18/11

Nice try, buddy! Everyone knows that hobos and tramps are entirely different categories of itinerants (the classic dichotomy being that hobos work odd jobs when they can while tramps beg). So why don’t you stop playing coy and admit that you’re a Russian Grand Duke or something who doesn’t like to shave or buy new clothes, and skip ahead to the part where you whisk Iris away to your villa on the Côte d’Azur.

Jumble, 3/18/11

True story: Up until fairly recently, I thought that a “spin class” involved spinning around in circles, and couldn’t figure out why everyone seemed to think they were so difficult! Ha ha, isn’t that funny? Anyway, apparently they actually consist of working out really intensely on stationary bicycles, which explains why the nameless protagonist in this panel appears to be experiencing some sort of massive cardiac event.

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Guys, when I’m away from the comics for a while, I need to dive back into the warm, welcoming arms of my first comics-mocking love: the soap strips. Let’s catch up together, shall we?

Mary Worth, 3/15/11

I don’t know what’s sadder: the fact that Wilbur thought that flying large, old-fashioned kites down at the park would restore his daughter’s mental health and their relationship, or that he thought that flying large, old-fashioned kites down at the park once would do the trick, permanently. “We’re good now, though, right? I can go back to more or less ignoring you and rededicate my energy to my sandwich photography Tumblr?”

Meanwhile, check out Dawn’s crazed eyes in panel one. Wilbur hasn’t fixed anything, of course, but merely redirected her mania. Now she’s well and truly addicted to kite-flying! This all looks fun now, but in a week, when she’s dragging that kite across the ground in the middle of a windless night, sobbing, Wilbur will be sorry.

Mark Trail, 3/15/11

Oh, look, Mark Trail has moved away from its laughable drug island plot and returned to its ever so slightly less laughable love triangle plot. I love how Kelly’s story is calculated to sound as ridiculous as possible. Why don’t you just tell her that you were rehearsing for a play or something, Kelly? A play where Mark has to get naked and kiss you? It would be about as plausible.

Judge Parker, 3/15/11

Whoops, it looks like Constance has been caught showing more concern for a pricey but ultimately useless physical object than for a real live human being who died in agony! Don’t worry, honey, you’ll fit in with this band of rich narcissists just fine.

Apartment 3-G, 3/15/11

Finally, in Apartment 3-G, bald or balding white men are nervous about Trey Brooks. What terrible power does he hold over them? Is it his scarf? Does his yellow scarf cause them a certain nameless terror? Does it force them to obey his every whim?

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Family Circus, 3/14/11

Ill-content with his future as a sullen dick, Billy aspires to be a sullen ignorant dick. Live the dream, Billy!

Baby Blues, 3/14/11

Uh-oh — looks like Hammie’s been bitten by a radioactive spider. Lot of that going around. Can’t wait for the musical!

Marvin, 3/14/11

Marvin, perfected. You folks can stop now.

Judge Parker, 3/14/11

Marketing executive — of course. Alan’s Blackberry® also brings news that his two-week Wonder Novel has received a Pulitzer Prize, and Sam’s been appointed Attorney General and Papal Nuncio. Judge Parker pumps its characters so full of gas it’s like watching Ally McBeal staged by Macy’s parade balloons.

Dick Tracy, 3/14/11

Whoa — what the hell is that thing growing out of Dick’s left wrist? And are we headed for four months of “It’s morning out there”/”I’m gonna call you, Tracy”? Time will tell.

Hey, I’m outta here! Josh will return on Monday with your COTW, and chew back into the comics on Tuesday. It’s been a fun week — thanks!

— Uncle Lumpy