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Pluggers, 1/18/12

Today I said to my wife the words that any woman longs to hear: “Honey, can you come in here and explain Pluggers to me?” Her take was that pluggers don’t know what an “app” is and assume that it’s derived directly from the word “apply,” and that therefore “applying” whipped topping (yes, obviously “topping,” not elitist whipped cream, what are you, some kind of fancy ooh-la-la gourmet French person) to a pie is an “app.” This makes at least as much sense than my own interpretation, which was “A plugger’s favorite app is eatin’ pie, or maybe just spraying wipped topping straight down their beak-mouths.” Which doesn’t really mean much of anything, but seriously, look at this panel, what the hell.

Gil Thorp, 1/18/12

Boy, Coach Kaz is all dressed up and being nice to everybody, which probably means that a break-up is in the offing. “Welp, good game, kids, but I’m leaving forever to take up my new job as an FBI agent in 1964.”

Luann, 1/18/12

Hey, remember, like, a month ago, when having TJ work for Ann Eiffel seemed like it would be an awesome idea? Well, we changed our mind, so that won’t be happening anymore. Don’t worry, we’ve long established that TJ has no need for a job for his income, so there are absolutely no consequences involved in today’s actions, which is an important element of drama.

B.C., 1/18/12

I’m always vaguely amused that B.C.’s ants are used as the players in various generic domestic melodramas. But they’re still ants! Ants who could be devoured by a predator at any time! I’m not sure if the surviving ant spouse means that the departing ant was appreciated for its nutritive qualities, or that it will at last find unconditional love in the chitinous bosom of some kind of ant-God in ant-heaven, but either way it’s all pretty grim.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 1/18/12

For a long time Rex has been losing badly to Sam Driver in the competition to see which smug, sexually repressed dick in a Woody Wilson-penned soap strip can have become more financially comfortable due to no real work or merit on his part. But maybe today is the day when the tide begins to turn!

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Dick Tracy, 1/17/12

Hey, everybody, the Dick Tracy gang is on the case, going undercover in a hip (?) nightclub to track down an actual gang, of the drug-smuggling variety, who something something son of old friend of Dick yadda yadda guy named Cueball blah blah cocaine hidden in instrument cases. (Hint to the cops: There are two Cueballs, or Cueball has a twin, or something!) Anyhoo, I mainly want to bring your attention to the little explanatory label in the first panel. Normally these kinds of boxes-with-arrows in Dick Tracy are used to identify bits of improbable high-tech crime-fighting gear, but today’s example mostly seems to be all about assuring us that our law enforcement officers aren’t having even the slightest bit of fun on their mission, so please let’s not have Internal Affairs auditing our expenses, please.

Luann, 1/17/12

Oh snap Ann Eiffel just outed TJ! Or maybe she just intended to insult him in a somewhat homophobic and mildly actionable manner? Either way, even though we’re only like two days into it, I think Ann vs. TJ is going to be less fun than I’d hoped, like everything else that ever happened in Luann ever.

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Luann, 12/5/11

Wasn’t there some zany plot a few years back where various De Groot family members and hangers-on wanted to know what TJ did for a living, but never could figure it out, largely because for mysterious reasons they refused to just ask him? I feel a sense of pride in the fact that I can’t actually remember how this worked out, and I refuse to look it up, but I’m definitely intrigued by his decision to charm his way into Anne Eiffel’s employ here, by describing how he caused a competing fast food restaurant to unwittingly violate child labor laws. Presumably he’s planning to bring Weenie World down from the inside, but all of TJ’s schemes inevitably backfire horribly, so perhaps he’ll accidentally triple hot dog sales and help Anne get promoted to CEO? Whatever the potential outcome, let’s all enjoy panel two, which illustrates the fact that TJ, who means well but is always plotting something, is forever perched on the seam between light and darkness.

Gil Thorp, 12/5/11

If I didn’t know any better I’d think that Brody Abro had his Asperger’s so thoroughly cured that he grew a little chin-tuft and let some soul-patched tattoo artist hover beefily over him. But I do know better, so probably the beard is supposed to indicate that this is shaggy-haired blond fellow with a face almost exactly like Brody’s is not actually Brody, but rather some new Mudlark with a silly name who we’re supposed to get attached to over the course of basketball season.

So, yeah, it’s an exciting new storyline! Involving tattoos! Just a tip: it’s not really that reassuring when you feel compelled to explicitly tell your customers that you follow the basic rules of hygiene for your profession. It’s like a waitress putting your food in front of you and saying, unprompted, “Don’t worry, the kitchen staff have all washed their hands today, and none of them have any open sores.” Maybe this attitude was OK in your prison tattoo business, Mr. Soul Patch, but you’ve rented a venerable Milford storefront now! Time to kick your professionalism up a notch.

Mary Worth, 12/5/11

Looks like Mary is going to be haunted by this missing child poster forever! Eventually her grinning face will be all Mary sees, every day. What could be the cause of this descent into madness? I’m hoping that Mary’s the real kidnapper, and that the haunting poster always floating at the corner of her vision is her version of the tell-tale heart.

Apartment 3-G, 12/5/11

“I’ve been there! By which I mean I totally made out with your dead husband. Back when he was alive, obviously! Did I forget to tell you this?”