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Apartment 3-G, 1/26/09

While a small but tragic percentage of people who say (or thought-balloon) things like “Who is this friendly, cheerful woman and what has she done with the real Nora Mills??” suffer from a form of mental illness, most people are speaking figuratively. “Ha, obviously this person is in fact Nora Mills, but she is acting in a way so at variance with her normal behavior, it’s as if she’s a different person! Which I know isn’t really true! I’m not coked up and paranoid, not me! Steady, Margo, steady…”

But Margo’s speculation may in fact be neither delusion nor elaborate metaphor. Because this Nora Mills has a short and kicky haircut, while the one we met earlier had shoulder-length locks with a Marilyn Quayle flip. Now, normally that would just be an indication that Nora decided on a new hairstyle, but in Apartment 3-G-world, hairstyles are the only way to distinguish between people of the same age and gender. (I was going to add “ethnic group” to that list, but then I realized, ha ha.) Thus, it is actually quite likely that this is an entirely different Nora Mills, possibly because Margo doesn’t realize that the first Google hit on a relatively common name isn’t necessarily the person you’re looking for.

Rex Morgan, M.D, 1/26/09

Oh, June! If you think you’re going to extract some kind of refund from a bankrupt corporation, let me sit down with you and explain the term “secured creditor.” Still, you’re also gamely attempting to seduce your husband by showing some leg, so I guess hope springs eternal.

Dick Tracy, 1/26/09

Like the rest of us, Dick has clearly become bored with this perfume storyline and has put on his cat-burglar suit for a little breaking and entry. Whether he’s doing so as part of a secret government operation, in league with a rogue group of law enforcement officers with their own agenda, or just because he wants to steal some stuff, it’s sure to be more interesting than the marketing of “Love Fire.”

Marmaduke, 1/26/09

“And yet he’s not here! Maybe this slavering hell-hound with what looks to be blood all over his teeth has something to do with that.”

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Marvin, 1/22/09

If there’s one thing that Marvin does well repeatedly, it’s come up with some labor-saving gimmick joke that can serve as a template for multiple days worth of material. We all remember the week of pure horror that was “Belly Laffs,” in which each new day proved just how not-funny a joke about women gaining weight when they’re pregnant can get. If there’s anything to console us during this cryspace.com nightmare, it’s that we started in the middle of the week, which means that we have at most two more days of this left.

Also, as a red-headed American, I resent the implication that the lady gingers need to bill themselves as blondes in order to increase their sex appeal. Nobody can dispute the attractiveness of redheads, people! And as a human being with a shred of decency, I am disgusted by the idea of a baby making her profile sexy, what the hell, this is monstrous beyond description.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 1/22/09

Little Sarah has always been a precocious child, and that, combined with the affluent upbringing her father’s medical practice has provided, may be bringing her down a very dark path, as she seems extremely intrigued by the prospect of joining this wizened alcoholic aristocrat in hunting a wily urchin for sport. “Come, child, let me tell you about the thrills of the most dangerous game!”

Apartment 3-G, 1/22/09

Some people have doubted whether Margo is really as awe-inspiring and terrifying as all that. All I can say is that if any roommate of mine had left me a list of imperative mood verbs like the one seen here, I’d respond less with a resigned sigh and more with a string of obscenities. Either Margo really can kill with her mind, or the surreptitious, never-talked-about sex must be amazing.

Marmaduke, 1/22/09

“Howling at the moon,” ha! Marmaduke is actually summoning his demonic Master to appear and accept the blood sacrifice of these two innocents. Naturally, Marmaduke will carry out this sacrifice himself.

Momma, 1/22/09

Ha ha, Momma called her daughter a tramp! A tramp wearing a tiny, tiny lampshade as a hat.

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Shoe, 1/20/09

“No … but my luggage has! Ha ha ha! Do you get it? Because sometimes airlines will put your luggage on the wrong plane, and it will ‘visit’ cities and countries that you’ve never been to! It’s an ironic little indignity of modern life, that many people can relate to! Ha ha ha! Oh, mercy! … wait, what do you mean there’s a second panel? Um. Twice. It happened twice. The luggage thing, I mean.”

Luann, 1/20/09

The current Luann story has been painfully stupid, as in so stupid that it’s been causing me real physical pain. This sexy fundraising event has been necessitated by a chain of events that ceases to make sense if you think about it for more than fifteen seconds … but since this is Luann, Ground Zero For Queasy, Awkward Sexuality, the plotline has obviously been elaborately constructed to lead to this moment. Because remember, it’s OK to include a lovingly detailed drawing of a teenage girl in a bikini in the comics, as long as you call her a tramp.

Marmaduke, 1/20/09

Ha ha, foolish Cave-Man! Marmaduke can never have enough mangled, dismembered bodies in his backyard. Hand over the meat or you’re next.