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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.

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Luann, 1/4/06

I can’t believe the amount of mail I got today about this cartoon. “Oooh, look, Mama Luann is poking out her own eye!” “Oooh, look, Mama Luann’s face cream is black for some reason!” I swear, it’s like you people have never seen someone applying stage makeup before bed in order to simulate a black eye to help along some safe, consensual, simulated-punch-in-the-face roleplay. If it weren’t for all the hubbub from you sheltered prudes, I wouldn’t even bother talking about it.

If you want to contemplate something really sick, however, you ought to try keeping track of the number of Luann strips that feature either Papa Luann or Brad brushing his teeth. It’s like the author has some sort of perverted pudgy-balding-guy-brushing-his-teeth fetish. And that ain’t right.