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Mary Worth, 2/26/13

Welp, now that Mary’s not-so-secret-admirer/cake decorating partner has been dispatched off to the outer darkness New York City, we’re ready for a new adventure! And it involves … Mary forcing a neighbor to open up and be friends with everyone against his will, when he’s sick and too weak to resist her? Sounds about right. Anyway, I’m mostly mesmerized by the soup Mary is pouring endlessly from a tiny pan into a tiny bowl. It’s flowing at waterfall strength for at least the time it takes her to say two sentences. I imagine it moves in slow motion, like the blood pouring from the elevator in The Shining. Is this magic soup? Will it magically make Tom Harpman acceptably neighborly, or maybe kill him so that someone more fun can move into 3B?

Funky Winkerbean, 2/26/13

Oh, man, the stroke larfs are continuing over at Funky Winkerbean! Now that Ann has to give up the job that gave her such joy to care for her broken shell of a husband, the gang discusses who will be the next to suffer. Hey, Linda, usually when people are making “jokes” about their husbands being so excitable that they’ll inevitably stroke out, they at least pretend to smile.

Apartment 3-G, 2/26/13

I don’t know why it makes me so sad that I’m better at keeping track of Ruby’s hair color than the people who are literally paid by the owners of Apartment 3-G’s intellectual property rights to keep track of Ruby’s hair color, but it does genuinely make me sad! So, here it is: Ruby is a redhead! You can tell because her name is Ruby, which is a red gemstone. I’m willing to accept Manic Panic and even black with Manic Panic highlights, but not just straight-up goth-style inky blackness.

Herb and Jamaal, 2/26/13

Ha ha, yes, Herb still is animalistically gobbling down his food in a socially problematic manner! Jamaal, on the other hand, is standing silently and watching his friend eat from the next room, which is totally normal behavior.

Marvin, 2/26/13

Huh, it seems that Marvin is capable of recognizing that other people feel shame when they poop in their pants. He just can’t feel it himself. Marvin never feels shame about anything. But especially not about pooping in his pants.

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Mary Worth, 2/24/13, 4/26/12 (panels)

WORST. BALLOON RALLY. EVER.

Spider-Man, 2/24/13

So for two weeks the World’s Slowest Missile has been homing in on Daredevil, only it’s suddenly on a timer? Since it hasn’t come close to hitting its target in all that time, why does Kingpin expect a better result in “Seven seconds — Six –“? I guess the idea is something like, “And then Spidey sees Daredevil, and there’s like a missile, and Kingpin, with a secret lair and, and mumble mumble EXCITING DANGER!!!” Even Narration Box seems confused: “Countdown to Zero!“? Uh, as opposed to what, exactly, N.B.?

Funky Winkerbean, 2/24/13

Do you “have what it takes to be a band director”? Let’s see: Multi-volume-autobiography-writing narcissism? Check! Indifference to the health and self-esteem of your students? Check! Melodramatic, fatuous, incoherent advice? Check! You’re good to go, chippie: see you at next year’s Ohio State Music Educators Association Convention!

Any idea what that last speech-balloon might’ve said before it was tortured to bloody gibbering death? Maybe something like “But if you do, fail from courage, not cowardice”? I mean before the rewrite demons showed up.

Dick Tracy, 2/24/13

You gotta love how Dick Tracy carefully exonerates the locomotive crew from any responsibility for this accident. After all, Sweatbox was driving at dangerously high speed onto an icy overpass. And it was black ice — slipperiest and stealthiest of all the ices! And he was probably dead from that encounter with the steering wheel even before the train hit him, right? Sure, they were accelerating into bad weather to make up time, but the crew even sounded the horn as if to say, “Keep that lovely old Benz off our tracks, wouldya — we’re speedin’ here!”

Do you think the Railroad Police will mount a full and fair investigation — or have they all been corrupted by that sweet “Tracy’s Hall of Fame” gig?

That’s it for me — Josh will be back with Comments of the Week soon (remember, patience is a virtue!), and regular posts starting Monday. Thanks for a fun week!

— Uncle Lumpy

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It’s a shame the way soap strips dispose of incidental characters at the end of their runs. Let’s pay a last visit to a few of them before we lose them forever.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/23/13

Oh look, Honey seems to have perked right back up despite her recent gender-identification crisis and a life bereft of love or meaning. I guess that shower was just what she needed!

The Morgans seem stunned that the Beachside Beer Blast for Dolores (a.k.a. “Phoenix Reising”) raised $10,000. How does that work, anyway? We know the party wasn’t B.Y.O. because the girls stockpiled beer in Rex and June’s fridge. “Beach Trash” Brenda Woods (a.k.a. “B.W.”) chipped in $50 — a tad steep for the stripper ‘n’ surfer crowd, but let’s go with it. If $50 is the average, maybe 300 people at 67% gross margin after costs of Bud Lite, Tostitos, and Solo Cups at about $16.50 per head? Sounds plausible. Or maybe they just covered expenses before Neddy dropped in from Judge Parker and laid one of her “allowance” checks on them?

Hägar the Horrible, 2/23/13

Hey, Honey — grab that $10K and buy a ticket to London stat: we found you a Sugar Daddy! And even though the job description is “someone to read to Grampa”, I’ve got a feeling illiteracy isn’t a deal-breaker.

Judge Parker, M.D., 2/23/13

Oh, and that Neddy thing? Could totally happen: she’s on the move, back to Spencer Farms with her mysterious American doctor friend in tow. It’s a shame, though, that we won’t be checking in with the old gang in Paris — loyal manservant Groves, here, his employer Rachel the Cancer Aunt, Cedric the Wonder Butler, or maybe even Sociology Hooker? At least we’ll be spared mopey Jules and his Business Plan.

Mary Worth, 2/23/13

Aboard his Empty Plane to Oblivion, John Dill consoles himself with the Mary Worth Book of Fake Quotations. Seriously John, it’s surprisingly easy to lose something you never had: you might even consider such things “pre-lost”, if that helps you work things out. For example, you never had Mary, and lost her with no effort at all! But if by “hard” you mean “emotionally taxing”, well, let’s just let Dr. Jeff Corey weigh in on that one — he’s got no prospects of having Mary, or losing her either.

— Uncle Lumpy