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Luann, 10/16/08

Hi there, perverts with delicate sensitivities! Did you enjoy last week’s exciting “Brad sees Toni in a sports bra and becomes aroused” storyline? Well, then you’ll love this week’s provocative “Gunther delicately drapes his measuring tape over Luann’s ‘bust,’ at her explicit request, and becomes aroused, but apparently feels bad about it” storyline! You can blame the stultifying Victorian sensibilities that still reign in the anachronistic print media for the bizarre chasteness of these scenes, but you can thank those same sensibilities for sparing you the sight of Brad and/or Gunther furiously masturbating in the bathroom just after those scenes ended.

Mark Trail, 10/16/08

Wow, this Mark Trail storyline is trying to mash all of the strip’s usual tropes into one big steaming pile of narrative mess. We’ve already got lovable forest-dwelling hermits, a rapacious developer with a mustache who hates nature, and a sexy lady who wants into Mark’s khaki pants. Now we also have hillbillies who are cruel to animals! Inevitably, Sneaky will be drawn into this terrible scene, with the intention of putting us on the edge of our seats with worry over the beloved raccoon. There are two related problems with this plan. This first is that Sneaky is not lovable at all, but rather a soulless, dead-eyed monster who cannot be regarded with anything other than dread. Sneaky, I thrilled to the adventures of Molly the Bear; I danced on stage with Molly the Bear; Molly the Bear was a friend of mine. Sneaky, you’re no Molly the Bear.

The second reason why I’m not anxious for the fate of our raccoon hero in a Sneaky vs. dog smackdown is that Sneaky, being a sociopathic killer, will emerge victorious in a matter of bloody, horrifying seconds. I foresee a lot of overall-clad bumpkins standing around a fetid shack uncomfortably while Sneaky rears up triumphantly over the corpse of his victim, chittering out the raccoon equivalent of “COME ON! YOU WANT A PIECE OF THIS? HUH? DO YA?”

Gasoline Alley, 10/16/08

Words that have never, ever been followed by engaging narrative of any kind: “Let’s check it out on the Internet!”

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Apartment 3-G, 10/7/08

Haley is so weak from dope-sickness that she can’t even sigh aloud; she can only think the word “sigh.”

Baldo, 10/7/08

Baldo’s sexual services only merit a B-.

Luann, 10/7/08

To everyone who’s been writing to Greg Evans and United Features Syndicate demanding to see Brad’s nipples: I hope you’re happy now, you bastards.

Pluggers, 10/7/08

A plugger moves through life leaving a trail of failure and economic ruin in his wake.

Beetle Bailey, 10/7/08

Otto has been “assigned” to Sarge’s “unit.”

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Hey, everybody! I want to begin this post by paying collective homage to everyone who was kind enough to put some money in my tip jar while I was away, and for Uncle Lumpy and his cast of dozens of rotating banners for urging you to do so. Everyone who contributed will be getting a personal thank-you from me sometime in the next week, but I do want to collectively say thanks now before you all. I also want to thank Uncle Lumpy for just plain being an awesome pinch-hitter, and for making me laugh on multiple occasions when I checked in from my Undisclosed Location.

Anyway, before I get to the CsOTW, I need to approach one strip that I didn’t discuss today, but which held a very special resonance for me.

Luann, 9/6/08

Soooo … remember a ways back when I mentioned that I had been nominated for the Hot Blogger Calendar? Well, thanks the gratuitous ballot-stuffing on your parts that followed, part of my week off involved a bus trip to New York to get my picture taken. I shall say no more now, except to note that I was a lot more into the experience than poor Brad. More information as I get it, but: brace yourselves.

And you know who else was an official Hot Blogger? None other than Sally Forth scribe/Medium Large creator/all-explaining blogger Francesco Marciuliano!

This pic of the two of us was taken the night before the photo shoot. You can barely tell, but those are firemen on the fire escape on the building behind us, peeling big chunks of vinyl siding off of the building that my head is mostly blocking, because it was on fire … as a result of our hotness? Probably!

Anyway, take a moment to calm down and enjoy the comment of the week!

“The Funky-doesn’t-lose-weight plot is one of the most boring things I’ve ever witnessed, and I read Spider-Man.” –Tweeks_Coffee

And the runners up!

“Only a plugger would spend three and a half hours repairing a $9 toaster? I’m no economist, but if he managed to scrape $9 worth of Pop Tart icing from the inside it was probably worth it.” –gh

“Wait a minute! Alan used to be alive?” –Muffaroo-who-brunches

“My name is Margo Magee. You called me ‘li’l lady.’ Prepare to die.” –blueberrygrrrl

“When it came time to break the heartbreaking news to my wife, I tried this: Me – ‘There were some fraudulent charges on one of our credit cards. The bank wiped the charges and will issue us a new card.’ My wife – ‘OK.’ Hopefully this tip will help Toby with her terrible ordeal.” –Worthinator

“Maria! Jameson! For the love of God, DON’T REPRODUCE!!” –Mibbitmaker

“I’m on tenterhooks with Mark Trail. Hopefully the titular hero will show up, punch out blondie, and rescue the poor alligator.” –Bribaby

“And the lesson of the day is ‘There is a right place and a wrong place for heels.’ Take it to heart while Mr. Alligator does his part for our gene pool.” –Artist formerly known as Ben

“I’m thrilled that Toby deals with her fear of Ian being angry because she hid her credit card problem by hiding her credit card problem.” –Lithros

“Jeeze, look at Ian stomping his paunchy ass away there. He looks like Marlon Brando chasing a wheelbarrow full of Big Macs.” –jake!

“‘But the inch-long youngsters, once they hatch, have no family loyalty.’ Hey, Jack Elrod’s kids! Would it kill ya to call your old man once in a while?” –gleeb

“Pardon My Planet = Pluggers for Hipsters.” –Beatrice

“…the best thing about this strip is the Crimestopper’s Textbook panel, in which some weepy stocky kid has found where the sidewalk ends.” –commodorejohn

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