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Luann, 2/17/06

Curtis, 2/17/06

Ladies and gentlemen, here on the last day of this Valentine’s Week (yes, it’s a whole week now, didn’t you get the memo from Hallmark and Cathy?), we have a battle royale between two comics love stories that just … won’t … end!

In this corner, in black and white, we have the eternal Brad-Toni-Dirk triangle. See the teasing! The sullen glares! The violation of restraining orders! The gratuitous use of the word “Chunkboy!”

And in this corner, in living color, we have the latest chapter in the Curtis-Michelle love-hate dipole. See what happens when the boy who can’t say “no” meets the girl who won’t say “yes”!

I think we have to acknowledge Curtis as the clear winner here. I’m getting real sick of Toni’s coy little sidelong glances and unnaturally pouty lips. From an artistic point of view, she’s got nothing on Michelle’s hilariously disgusted facial expression in panel three: eyes bugged out, lips curled in disdain, sweat balls flying, motion lines tracking her escape route and a well-placed elbow ready to jab her wannabe paramour in the throat if it comes to that. And while Brad’s wide-eyed, dot-mouthed horror in panel three of Luann is evocative of his new awareness of his own romantic ineptitude, it doesn’t convey bleakness the way Curtis’ lonely, underdressed blizzard trek does. Mostly, though, this Curtis promises to at least end the Michelle nonsense for a few weeks, whereas I have a sinking feeling that the Brad romantic hijinks will continue on indefinitely.

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The Phantom, 1/27/06

Holy smokes, the situation with the Phantom’s kids is worse than I thought. It’s bad enough that Heloise (Heloise?) wants to turn this Jungle Trek into some sort of sleepover party, with a pup tent, an inflatable mattress, and a battery-powered PlayStation; Kit, on the other hand, is worried that he’s going to cramp up. What a pathetic pair. This is what comes of Bangalla’s transition to peaceful, modern democracy: they may be living in the jungle, but the twins’ tribal guardians have kept them as sheltered as any neurotic, play date-happy suburbanites. Good luck turning them into spandex-clad crime fighters, O Ghost.

Hopefully the Phantom will shake these two out of their self-absorbed little bubbles before they become mired in the endless tedium of first-world angst-ridden post-teen romance:

Luann, 1/27/06

Yeah, you know what a peck on the cheek in front of 200 people is, Brad? It’s yet more messing around with your head. Get out now while you can, for the love of God!

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Luann, 1/6/06

OK, at long last, I have decided to weigh in on the interminable Adorable But Oddly Shaped Kitty storyline in Luann:

• I am a huge cat fan. I have had cats most of my life, I love cats, and feel that they add a great deal to my everyday existence.
• If my family tried to bully me into getting a pet to which I was unpleasantly allergic, I would see about getting a new god-damned family.

I’ve noted that several of you have wondered why Luann feels a need to call her dad on her cell phone rather than thanking him for his shameless cave-in in person. My theory: the kitchen is the house’s designated no-cat zone, soon to be enclosed in cat-dander-blocking lucite. Poppa Luann will never have to suffer from allergies, with the only minor drawback being that he won’t ever be able to leave the room or have any physical contact with another human being ever again.