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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!

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Judge Parker, 10/26/07

Woo! At long last, something exciting is happening in Judge Parker! Exciting and … completely nonsensical, but what the hell. I’m pretty sure that the reason I haven’t been able to follow the business and legal machinations of this plot is because they’re complete twaddle, as is Rusty Duncan’s incomprehensible Sam-lust. You might as well get all hot and bothered (and stupidly risk your high-powered lawyer career) over a particularly handsome slab of wood for all the satisfaction you’ll get out of it. One hopes that this isn’t a tiresome “lady professionals lose their mind over a hot hunky man” plot but rather part of some wheels-within-wheels intrigue, with hidden cameras ready to put this cute little scene all over the Internet. The handkerchief is there to collect a bit of Sam’s blood that will spurt from the gashes she’s about to tear in his ear; this will be useful for later DNA testing to prove that the photos depict her kissing the real Sam and not a life-sized Sam mannequin (since it would obviously be hard to tell otherwise).

Mary Worth, 10/26/07

I guess Vera’s line about “see[ing] the stars at night” is supposed to be some kind of reference to their first starlit make-out session,” but it’s pretty much impossible to interpret it as anything other than “Drew brought me to levels of physical pleasure that Von could never reach.” And maybe it’s me, but I really don’t think you should be talking to Mary Worth about the quality and quantity of your orgasms. It just seems wrong.

Archie, 10/26/07

Not that I’m a big expert on the minutiae of Archie characters’ inner lives or anything, but in my experience the Coach Kleats mainly doesn’t express any emotion other than numb-eyed acceptance of the wackiness and incompetence surrounding him. Thus, his Bob Knight-style tirade at a reporter’s legitimate (if ludicrously vague) question is kind of surprising. Presumably he’s desperately trying to prevent the press (and the readers) from noticing whatever it is number 7 is about to do to number 11 in the first panel.

Gil Thorp, 10/26/07

Typically, Milford teams are good enough to make the playdowns (AND YES THEY CALL THEM “PLAYDOWNS” IN GIL THORP DON’T ASK ME WHY ALL RIGHT?), but then inevitably flop in the first or second round. It’s good to see this year’s football squad breaking that mold by descending into total incompetence. Pretty soon a desperate and/or bored Gil will put in the team’s fourth-string quarterback: the kid with one leg. The only sad part is that Marty Moon is apparently too drunk or not drunk enough to launch into the “Fire Gil” campaign that he usually gets rolling at the first sign of trouble in the Milford Athletic department.

Panel one makes it clear that Coach Kaz is still battling his troubling addiction to cosmetic surgery.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 10/26/07

CEO J.P. Honcho testifies in Congress against stricter environmental laws:

“Increased regulations make American factories uncompetitive … not needed … voluntary improvements are the way … our plants are perfectly safe … clean-burning fuel … wouldn’t hurt a fly …”

So when he builds his sprawling mansion with his eight-digit bonus check, does he put it downwind from his own factory? Oh, dear reader, need you ask?

“Somethin’ about the country air … so fresh and clean … sure it’s far from the plant, but it’s worth it for the ol’ lung-quality … ahhhh …”

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Shoe, 10/21/07

As the funnies have repeatedly taught us, there’s nothing better for tickling your funny bone as you read the paper over a leisurely Sunday breakfast like a lonely, depressed bird trying to deal with his empty life by drinking alone. Usually it’s the Perfesser whose ruined, emotionally dead existence gets put on display for our amusement, but today’s it’s Shoe, because, hey, why the hell not. He wants to drink whiskey until his vision is impaired! His psychic wounds are so deep that no amount of substance use can put an end to the pain! Normally this is the stuff of depressing black-and-white European cinema, but there’s a cute pun here and a reference to a classic movie star that 75 percent of the strip’s readers have never heard of — plus, as mentioned, the poor depressed alcoholic and his enabler are birds — so in this case it’s a God-damned laugh riot.

Funky Winkerbean, 10/21/07

I have to admit that I found this strip both sweet in and of itself and a decent way to frame the Great Funky Winkerbean Leap Forward. However, I do wonder exactly what dialog preceded “…and so that’s what happens to people when they die.” If this were the Family Circus, there probably would have been some treacly description of God taking you up to a beautiful shiny white paradise where you get to look down from above on a cloud, but in this strip I’m guessing Les provided a detailed description of the typical sequence of organ failure, followed by a chemistry-heavy discourse on the decay of organic matter. Similarly, in a cutesier strip, little Summer’s heartwarming gesture in the first panel of the second row would indicate that Lisa will live forever in her heart, but it’s more likely that Les brought her to Central Park so she could dig up some of her ashes and eat them.

Judge Parker, 10/21/07

Yeah, Red, wait! Stick around! I can’t imagine why you’d want to leave. Is it just because one of your hosts got drunk and tried to shank you with a steak knife because you pointed out that he got himself into his own mess? Nice little egging on there from Sam — “Wish you hadn’t sad that, counselor! Don’t make Mullety Flatop angry — you wouldn’t like him when he’s angry!” Why, if you storm out now, you won’t get to see Trudi break that wine bottle on the edge of the table and go after her knife-wielding brother. Should be a hoot!

Oh, and note to Keith: Don’t all shysters have law degrees by definition? Also, I know it’s your house and all, but you really shouldn’t try to stab people with the flatware.

Dennis the Menace, 10/21/07

Ha ha, look at Dennis’s pissy face in the last panel! I know what he’s going to be when grows up: sullen and unemployed!