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Dramatic reversals in the Wednesday serials — let’s dive right in!

Spider-Man, 6/25/2008

Oh, snap! Peter can’t stop the Vulture or even get pictures of anybody but himself. Jonah exploits his failure to buy the photos for a pittance, then spins the story so Spidey has to go back at the Vulture, sick or not. Let’s officially retitle this strip Jonah and be done with it.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 6/25/2008

And in an instant, Rex’s life is changed forever. Effortlessly, doughy Tom Arnold lookalike Max Mallory pierces his tissue of lies and threatens his cover, shield, and only source of strength. The roses in panel two tell us — and Rex — that Max now owns him no less completely than Mary owns Jeff. MRSA can sleep safe tonight.

Mary Worth, 6/25/2008

Today: Mary’s thought-bubbles beat down Jeff’s phone messages. Next: Mary’s emails beat down Jeff’s semaphore signals. Really, this strip could get along perfectly well without people. At least these people.

Apartment 3-G, 6/25/2008

Margo struggles with the whole “Tommie getting more than me” concept. There, there, dear — we’ve all been down that road.

Luann, 6/25/2008

Dear Mom:

Thank you for raising me. I am all grown up now. And a fireman! See my axe? Now shut the fuck up!

Love,

your Bradley

— Uncle Lumpy

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New directions for old favorites, just in time for the weekend!

Apartment 3-G, 6/20/2008

Hey, Tommie’s back! And it’s clear Gary’s ardor hasn’t cooled — soon, he’ll whisper that if the hospital doesn’t upgrade the intrusion detection software on the Pharmacy network leg to current specs — and fast — there’s no way they’ll demonstrate HIPAA compliance before the first-round JCAHO review. Tommie will just lower her eyes and coo that the time may have come to negotiate with an outside service provider for penetration-testing services.

Then comes the howling.

Funky Winkerbean, 6/20/2008

Hey, Les is on the fast track: just learned where the glassware goes, now he’s running the Manhattan operation. At least he knows the neighborhood — last visit, he spread his wife’s ashes in Central Park, got mugged, and squandered his precious honeymoon memento calling Funky to come bail him out. Now he — and we! — can relive the magic.

Back home, Summer will spend her copious lesiure time ginning up fresh tragedy, as required by her genetic inheritance, her contract, and the strip’s mission statement. Her Dad, of all people, should know there are no “comfort zones” in Funky Winkerbean.

Luann, 6/20/2008

Hey! Brad’s on the job! He’s gonna rescue TJ! Five days ’til The Kiss!

— Uncle Lumpy!

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Blondie, 6/4/08

Wait … is Dagwood supposed to be an office manager? Is … is that the joke? Because he often deals with “accounts” and makes presentations to clients for Dithers Enterprises, which isn’t something that office managers do, I don’t think. Or is he just taking offense at criticism of lazy incompetents on general principles? Or does he find it hard to relax because his co-chatter is talking about work? DAMN IT DAGWOOD YOU BROUGHT IT UP.

Anyway, I refuse to believe that Dagwood would just be spending time on random chat rooms. If he were to frequent any Web site, I’m pretty sure that it would be this.

Luann, 6/3/08

Comics about Brad’s sex life: Distasteful.

Comics about Brad’s fetishistic shaving-based sex life: NGGGNGGGNGNGH