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Apartment 3-G, 9/8/10

Makeover victim #1, revealed! Margo’s here and she’s, eh, not actively laughable. Still, this seems like it might be kind of overcompensation: Kat has reacted to Margo’s penchant for turtlenecks by forcing her to wear the exact opposite of a turtleneck, a dress with a top that’s as low as possible while maintaining a G rating. Margo might enjoy all the admiration her shoulders are getting now, but wait until she finds out that every single item in her remade wardrobe will be strapless, including her new collection of business casual tube tops and her winter coats.

Gil Thorp, 9/8/10

This week Gil Thorp has been very busy telegraphing the fall plot: it will be about Troubled Foster Kid Cody Exner! Gil had a life-changing conversation with Cody’s current foster mom yesterday, in which he learned that adults cannot remain in the foster care system indefinitely. This puts a crimp in his plan to find a foster family who will care for him so he can quit his job and drink full time.

In panel three, we see that the takeaway from the plot will be that foster kids are angry and violent — at least before they get some good, solid half-assed coaching from Gil Thorp. Cody will come around and be ready for adulthood by his 18th birthday, even though a few Mudlark teammates may be maimed in the process.

Dennis the Menace, 9/8/10

I was going to make some kind of distasteful “Dennis is a pimp” joke here before I was brought up short with horror at the faces of the little girls on either side of him. They’re a degree or two less cartoonish that the other children — could they be an attempt to represent two actual specific kids? — which only makes them that much more unsettling, in no small part because the more lifelike faces draw attention to their freakishly knobbly legs.

To distract yourself from this horror, consider the fact that Mr. Wilson is such a classic cartoon character that his face isn’t needed to establish presence in the scene, just his iconic gut.

Luann, 9/8/10

Hey, everyone, Dirk’s back, and the power of Christ compels you to like him! I’ve been ignoring him thus far this week, but I feel he earned a spot in this blog by treating Mrs. DeGroot like some sort of stalking-fun-killing vampire.

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Luann, 8/27/10

Most of you read today’s Luann in the paper (we’re all still reading the comics in the paper, right?) and then poked at the URL at the bottom of the third panel with your finger a few times, remembered that we don’t live in the future yet, and went about your day. A brave few of you went online to hear “Hey Boy” in all its glory, planning on putting it on your Facebook and Twitter and totally leveraging the Luann brand across social networks, only to discover that embedding was disabled for some reason, almost as if the creators were worried about people putting it on their websites and making fun of it. And yet they didn’t turn off comments, which is great, because it meant that we were rewarded with this most ultraserious comment about a terrible rendition of a dumb song from a comic strip that has ever been posted on the Internet, from “PalatinPorteau”:

The lyrics were about what I’d imagine a teenage girl like Luann to write in a poem, but the production values were not impressive. If you’re going to have such a breathy vocalist, you need to balance that with music that doesn’t sound as if Quill said, “well, if you’re not going to sing any stronger, then I’m not going to back you up any firmer either. Oh, and forget the bass, I’m taking that with me and I’m leaving right now.”

There is literally nothing I can follow this up with, other than a brief note that the lyrics “one of us is bustin’ free” is of course accompanied by a drawing of Luann in a bathing suit.

Apartment 3-G, 8/27/10

Ha ha, at last, the dark heart of the current Apartment 3-G storyline is revealed, and we see the terrifying psychological warfare that the I Dressed In The Dark politburo uses to force its will on the hapless contestants. How much do you really love your long, flowing hair Lu Ann? Do you love it so much that you’re willing to see Tommie and Margo tortured? Actually, based on all the simpering she’s been doing, she probably does. I don’t think she particularly likes Tommie and Margo much anyway.

Pluggers, 8/27/10

Oh, please, we all know that pluggers have the local pizza place’s number memorized. Sometimes they’ll call when they not even hungry, just lonely, just because they need to hear another human voice, which explains a lot about their waistlines.

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Mary Worth, 8/17/10

Mary Worth has definitely been missing a certain something lately, and that something is frolicking. Earlier this year we got a few delightful days of Wilbur and his not-son frolicking in the woods; today, we are treated to a flashback of Dr. Mike’s dad and his cousin Richie proving that one can frolic in urban settings as well. As we all know, the best way to show that you’re having a good time is by means of ludicrously exaggerated gesticulation. Unfortunately, the thug driving that car will see them waving their hands and arms about, mistake the gestures for gang signs, and spray them with bullets. Watching Richie bleed to death in front of him will send Lonnie into the emotional tailspin that ended with the shattered man we saw lurching out of the bushes last week.

I notice that Richie is wearing the Han Solo-style outfit so beloved by characters in Apartment 3-G. I wonder if this is a message of solidarity from Mary Worth artist Joe Giella to A3G artist and fellow eightysomething comic book artist turned soap strip toiler Frank Bolle during the fashion escalation that is the makeover storyline. “Stay strong!” the vest is saying, symbolically. “Vests are cool, and people do wear them in real life. Margo will wear that vest again, some day!”

Luann, 8/17/10

Normally Mrs. DeGroot is on high alert to protect her children’s chastity, but the fact that Luann and Quill are sequestering themselves in Brad’s old room puts her mind at ease. On assumes that the pall of apathy and self-loathing that Brad left behind him still hangs thick in the air. It’s where erotic urges go to die.