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Gil Thorp, 2/10/09

Shocking developments in Gil Thorp! We’ve learned that Dylan was a teenage stick-up artist, and that Brenda is trying to have it both ways: she wants to imagine that he’s reformed (“But that was more than 30 months ago! Now you’re a slightly older teenager, and somewhat less immature! After what I presume to be some kind of punishment, surely you’ve completely changed!”) while he gives her the sort of half-assed tough-guyisms that keep the girls coming back. YOU KNEW HE HAD A SOUL PATCH WHEN YOU MET HIM, BRENDA! WHAT SORT OF MAN DID YOU EXPECT HIM TO BE?

Meanwhile, Bryce is making himself noticed in the locker room, if by “making himself noticed” you mean “rambling on egomaniacally while literally every other person in the room ostentatiously ignores him.” Frankly, more sarcastic narration boxes can only help this feature.

Gasoline Alley, 2/10/09

I’m not interested in rehashing the last God knows how many weeks of Gasoline Alley, which have mostly served as a primer for diner lingo; just take my word for it that, as a side benefit, they have also involved Slim’s humiliation and failure. Slim is the only Gasoline Alley character for whom I can work up any feelings whatsoever, and those feelings are equal parts distaste and disgust; still, I do have to respect the sadness of the second panel of today’s strip, in which the food-addicted man-child’s suddenly crumpled face reflects a moment of terrible self-knowledge. Because of said disgust and distaste, though, such moments are like catnip to me, and Slim reasserts his usual mode of being (belligerent ignorance) in panel three, reinforcing my prejudice against him.

Apartment 3-G, 2/10/09

You might think that Tommie and Gary’s incredibly awkward verbal sparring — it’s like Tracy and Hepburn, if both Tracy and Hepburn were half-thinking about something else, and neither was a native speaker of English — isn’t going to lead to romance, and you’d be right. Still, it appears that Gary has fulfilled his primary mission: to distract Tommie with his clumsy banter, and use her distraction as an opportunity to steal her tea. Presumably he’ll soon be on his way.

Mark Trail, 2/10/09

OH MY GOODNESS! BUCKY IS THE RISEN CHRIST-DEER! AND PATTY IS MARY MAGDALENE! AND … you know what, I think I’m going to stop riiiight about there.

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Apartment 3-G, 2/9/09

And once again, the biggest laugh in today’s comics comes from Apartment 3-G, which isn’t even trying, I don’t think. Tommie, we all appreciate your fumbling attempts to be theatrically sarcastic, but if you’re going to respond to Margo’s orders to clean by tying on some kind of troubling sassy-black-maid kerchief and then dusting in a passive-aggressively half-assed fashion, you should really save it for when Margo is actually there; otherwise, it’s just kind of pathetic.

Mark Trail, 2/9/09

In last Friday’s thrilling Mark Trail, Ken appeared to have missed Patty’s special deer friend, merely scaring it off into the woods; today, though, poor Bucky has been laid low by what looks to be a bullet that our crack shot/abusive monster managed to place right between his eyes. (Admittedly, it’s hard to tell because the entire animal, including the eyes and antlers, has been slathered over with a uniform coat of Light Brown #2.)

Ken is showing us the sort of deft timing that has kept his marriage fresh; everyone knows that you should follow up a little light physical battery and the killing of a beloved pet with an impromptu business trip, to give the little woman time to realize that she wants more of what you’re selling. And surely the best way to get her to forget about that deer is to leave its mouldering corpse fifteen feet from your back porch.

Judge Parker, 2/9/09

“With this unreasonably large advance for my unreadable book, I’ll finally manage to dispel the whiff of the upper middle class that has stubbornly clung to me all these years! At last, my dreams of being ensconced firmly among the socioeconomic elite have been realized!”

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Gil Thorp, 2/3/09

Is today’s Gil Thorp the hottest Gil Thorp ever? Probably! It has a little something for everyone: panel three features Brenda and Dylan “connecting” with some sexy hetero making out (or maybe emergency mouth-to-mouth, or mutual cannibalism — it’s hard to tell), and panel two has two Lady Mudlarks I can’t identify (one of whom may also be Brenda, who knows) making sexy eye contact in preparation for the post-victory locker-room hookup. In panel one, meanwhile, Bryce Larkin works out obsessively at Jo’s Gym (motto: “We created our logo ourself rather than paying professional graphics designers; sure, it’s unspeakably shitty, but now we have more money to spend on free weights”) to get his body so taut and muscular that Gil won’t be able to reject his advances again, presaging hottness to come.

Momma, 2/3/09

Is today’s Momma the hottest Momma ever? Probably! Sure, the action is mostly incomprehensible — Is Francis supposed to be underage? Is the lovelorn cashier offering to cover up the fact he’s buying booze with his mother’s money? How is it possible that anyone is attracted to Francis? — but at least it’s a Momma that involves romantic attraction and yet doesn’t dwell on Momma’s demented, perverted suitors, her doomed attempts to protect Marylou’s virtue, or her unsettling Oedipal relationship with her sons, so let’s just count our blessings and move on.

Mark Trail, 2/3/09

“No, this situation doesn’t involve me! As a result, I’m just going to leave my weeping, terrified friend alone with her violent, angry husband! I’m sorry about this, Patty … I’ll send you copies of the nonspecified pictures, which a jealous person might assume would be sexy!”

Apartment 3-G, 2/3/09

“So you just allowed your husband to go out and follow his passions and convictions, rather than forcing him to spend all his time servicing you and earning money to buy you nice things? My head swivels in disapproval! That’s not how it’s going to be when I marry Eric — not if that combination tracking device/shock collar I just ordered from Amazon has anything to say about it.”