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Mary Worth, 6/11/08

Is today’s panel two the most unintentionally mirth-inducing Mary Worth moment since “my very own meth lab”? It’s sure got a lot going for it. First of all, there’s the idea that Mary and/or Ron are being followed at all times by paparazzi determined to catch them canoodling sexily at one of Santa Royale’s swankiest midscale ethnic restaurants. I mean, obviously Santa Royale is the most boring city in America, but surely it can’t be so boring that the dining life of newly appointed/elected town councilmen is front page news, or any page news. Are there no zoning disputes? Are there no kittens caught in trees? Couldn’t those column inches be more productively filled with classified advertising, or legal notices?

Then there’s Jeff’s palpable and hilarious outrage. He just spent a whole series of strips arguing with Mary because she was going to blow off date night with him to go spend time with another man, and here he has photographic proof that … she spent time with the man she said she was going to spend time with! I’d say that he’s really upset about the public humiliation, but I can’t imagine that anything could be more publicly humiliating than being Mary Worth’s asexual not-boyfriend.

For Better Or For Worse, 6/11/08

I really had to go back and look carefully at the first panel of this strip and see that there was a rubber glove lying idly on the toolbench, because for a moment I thought that Ellie had torn off one of her own hands and hurled it at her lazy husband in a fit of rage.

Herb and Jamaal, 6/11/08

Ha, it’s funny because (choose one):

• Herb’s wife has a terrible substance abuse problem and Herb needs to keep that $1,800 from going up her nose.
• Herb has a terrible gambling problem and wants to play that $1,800 at the greyhound track before his wife fritters it away on groceries and health insurance.
• Herb’s wife is not allowed to watch TV or read the newspaper or go online, so she has no idea what this “stimulus check” of which you speak is.

Crankshaft, 6/11/08

I suppose this is supposed to be some kind of store window display, but I really, really want to believe that Crankshaft’s daughter, desperate to find something that will keep her belligerent, disoriented father entertained, has taken him to a peep show that either has been cleaned up for family newspaper or is catering to a very specific fetish. Of course, if that were the case he’d be saying, “I guess that’s what you’d call ‘Socks in the City.'”

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Mary Worth, 6/7/08

Oh, it’s “grassroots political activism,” is it? I think Mary is starting to realize that Ron’s silver hair and electric blue suit disguise an America-hating leftist. Their date will probably end with Ron hurling a brick through the window of the local Starbucks and spray-painting SMASH THE IMF across the front of the local bank.

I probably shouldn’t assume that the word “grassroots” only applies to one end of the political spectrum, though. It’s also possible that Ron is the head of the “Keep Santa Royale White” campaign — which, from the look of things, has been pretty darn successful so far.

Hi and Lois, 6/7/08

“It is, however, Afghanistan. That’s why my wife wasn’t able to talk directly to a man she isn’t related to, but needed to stay in the women’s quarters in the back of the house while I came out and told you to leave.”

Herb and Jamaal, 6/7/08

Man, as if I needed confirmation of my basic misanthropy, I now have as evidence the involuntary giggle that arose when Jamaal, having been isolated from interactions with his fellow humans by modern life, slipped in the earbuds and let the music from his iPod that popular MP3 music player that everyone’s talking about bring him to a state of emotionally neutral, heavy-lidded numbness.

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Apartment 3-G, 6/6/08

Reasons why Margo might have the Wedding March set as her phone’s ringtone:

• She’s read the The Secret and now believes she can make a marriage proposal happen by sheer force of will; thus, she surrounds herself with wedding-related media at all times.
• That ringtone indicates a phone call from her hapless assistant Sam, who’s been left in charge of her now largely forgotten wedding planning business. He’s probably calling for help about yet another peacock-related disaster.
• That ringtone’s been assigned to Eric, about whom Margo finally stopped caring about five minutes ago. He’s using his satellite phone to make his one phone call from the police station allowed by Chinese law before he has his organs harvested, but Margo’s decided to fall for Jack’s brushcut charms instead.

(By the way, that strip with Sam in it that I linked to above is more than a year old, and Margo is already boasting about her imminent engagement! So sad, so sad.)

Mary Worth, 6/6/08

“That’s right, Mary! Now that my mother’s literal dead weight is no longer holding me back, I’m someone of stature and consequence in this town! That woman in the hideously patterned shirt … that intellectual snob, out reading in public … why, I could have either of them thrown in jail, their lives destroyed, as easy I can clench my right fist, like so! I’ll be ordering you the house Chianti at La Rosa, but I won’t be drinking any; I’m already drunk with power!”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 6/6/08

“No way, man! You’ll pry my filthy, soiled wrestling mats from my cold, dead, MRSA-infected hands!”

Slylock Fox, 6/6/08

Cowboy one is out of his mind on mescaline; cowboy three is taking a “spirit journey” thanks to peyote; cowboys two and four are tweaking on good, old-fashioned meth.