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Apartment 3-G, 11/3/07

Alan’s pitch for an advance on his paltry part-time curator paycheck continues. Let’s get one thing straight, Alan: you don’t defeat New York with money. You do it with guts! And gumption! And good-old fashioned elbow grease! You work hard, you play hard, and eventually you’re the king of New York! You look the Big Apple right in the eye and say, “Hey, Big Apple, I belong here as much as anybody else! I’m gonna take a big bite out of you — and it’s gonna be sweet!”

No, you can’t beat New York with money. You can, however, buy drugs in New York with money. Which will be convenient for you if you can get that paycheck advance.

The DTs already seem to be hitting Alan pretty hard if Eric’s ballooning fish-lipped visage in panel three is an accurate depiction of what he sees.

Judge Parker, 11/3/07

It’s a little-known fact that film stars often take cameo appearances in soap opera comics to earn a little extra cash. Sometimes they take on roles that you wouldn’t expect. For instance, today Sophie is being played by Cillian Murphy, the Irish star of 28 Days Later and Sunshine:

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Crankshaft, 11/2/07

I know that life in the now temporally disjointed Funky Winkerbean/Crankshaft space/time continuum is a nonstop parade of ghastliness, but I do thinks the expressions of shock and despair sported by the two poor saps in panel three are bit overblown. They look less like “contemplating yet another one of the ’Shaft’s asinine schemes” and more like “just freed from a multiday hostage ordeal.” Or, to put it another way, less like “contemplating yet another one of the ’Shaft’s asinine schemes” and more like “actually watching one of the ’Shaft’s asinine schemes put into action, only many small children have been tied to the tree limbs before it was set alight.” I guess the inhabitants Funkyworld are always imagining the absolute worst-case-scenario for their lives at any given moment, and with good reason.

Dennis the Menace, 11/2/07

Oh, ho ho! That Dennis the Menace! Mr. Wilson is a fat lump, and Dennis isn’t afraid to point it out! He has no sense of social propriety! Ho ho!

OK, now that we’ve got that out of the way, please tell me the planet on which the following exchange would not be creepy and inappropriate:

Mr. Wilson looks disgruntled not because the neighbor brat has insulted his appearance (he’s sadly used to that by now) but because he’s suddenly realized that his increasingly senile wife has accidentally gotten out the “special” photo album. OH MY GOD MARTHA DON’T TURN THE PAGE!

Judge Parker, 11/2/07

Longtime readers of Judge Parker know that Sophie (here looking more disturbingly like a tiny monkey than ever) has a problem with voyeurism; recall this installment from one artist and 22 months ago (I think that works out to three days in JP’s internal chronology), in which Sophie gloats over having seen Neddy make out with her soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. At least that was just good clean trembling-on-the-edge-of-puberty curiosity and fun, and neither of the kissees was married to her adopted mother. But don’t worry, Sam! Her lips are sealed! Now let’s talk about a raise in her allowance. Indian personal assistants don’t come cheap, you know.

(By the way, those of you who chortled at JP’s Raju storyline as unrealistic should probably read this.)

Marmaduke, 11/2/07

I’d really like to believe that the white band around Dottie’s waist is the broad white belt that the artist intended us to see, and not the result of her pants falling down so we can see her ass crack and garters. Really, I would. But somehow I don’t think I’m going to be able to pull it off.

On the other hand, I’m very pleased to see Marmaduke revealed as a three-headed demon hound.

Spider-Man, 11/2/07

I really am constantly impressed by Spider-Man’s ability to disappoint me. Just when I think my standards for the strip couldn’t possibly be lower, suddenly some new plot twist comes along to indicate that things are going to be much, much lamer than even I could imagine. Take the Persuader, here. When his upcoming appearance was hyped in a NEXT! box a Sunday or two ago, I was convinced that he was going to be a costumed supervillain of some sort — a spectacularly goofy one, to be sure, à la the Shocker, but a supervillain nonetheless. But now we see that he’s just a beefy guy in a suit. OOOH! He’s blows up newspaper trucks! He cleans his fingernails with a knife! He has a vaguely Hitler-esque haircut! SCARY!!!

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Gil Thorp, 10/29/07

Uh-oh! In a totally shocking unforeseeable development, it seems that vaguely repentant “accidental” murderer Cully Vale is falling in with a bad crowd! That Mitch “found” that money in some old lady’s purse is obvious not least because he appears to be an Eisenhower-era greaser hood of some sort. Meanwhile in panel two Boyd Henry’s Chameleon Device briefly hit some kind of glitch, revealing his black, alien eyes. What sinister plan does this disguised extraterrestrial have for Cully, and for humanity? Only time will tell!

Cully is too dumb recognize any of the warning signs, obviously. He’s not even very in touch with the way his own body works. “Hmm, discomfort in my tummy … what could make grumbling go away? Food? Sure, food sounds great! I’ll try this ‘food’ of which you speak!”

Mark Trail, 10/29/07

Most of the comics are starting in on their Halloween stories this week, but none have offered a vision as terrifying as Johnny Malotte’s litter of spawn and their eager, smiling faces. It’s frankly a wonder that Mom can even sit up straight after pumping out this brood. I’m guessing the visiting businessmen will find this group of hillbilly Von Trapps more unsettling than enjoyable.

And yes, Johnny has facial hair, but he’s an “old friend” of Mark’s, so he gets some kind of pass. Based on his Captain Renault-style mustache and vaguely Frenchy last name, I’m going imagine him as a comical Quebecois outdoorsman for really no good reason.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 10/29/07

I’ll never forget the day I first visited my Great-Aunt Ruth and Great-Uncle Stan in their retirement community in the high desert about an hour outside of L.A. I was fourteen or fifteen at the time, and while I intellectually understood why they found the golf course directly adjacent to their backyard appealing, I was more impressed by the constant round of barbecues and cocktail parties — any time of day, any day of the week — that their lives had become. I quickly understood why everyone got around the streets of their little subdivision on golf carts and the speed limit was 15 miles per hour: because pretty much everyone had a buzz on all the time. Ever since that day, I’ve had one goal in mind: to retire in style. Thank you, TDIET, for reminding me to keep my eye on the ball.

Judge Parker, 10/29/07

*SPUT* *BLUB* DO NOT TELL ME THAT THIS IS HOW THIS STORY HAS BEEN RESOLVED. IT DOES NOT WORK THAT WAY.

Sam is wearing his sunglasses to bring Extra Dickishness Action to this little conversation.

Hi and Lois, 10/29/07

Ha ha! It’s funny because Hi and Lois are bankrupt!

Lockhorns, 10/29/07

Ha ha! It’s funny because something pop-culture-related Loretta can’t cook!