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Phantom, 1/23/08

This Phantom storyline may be turn out to be as dumb as the last one, but it’s really stepping it up in the hilarious quotables department. For those somehow still not satisfied with “That’s the answer! Jungle Patrol!” and “Whoa, girls! Let me tell you a little something about the Jungle Patrol!” we now have the awesome “Who’s tougher than lady cops and waitresses? Not pirates!” And, if you insist on your catchphrase including the words “Jungle Patrol,” you can always console yourself with “I quit! We’re joining the Jungle Patrol!”

I’ve always been wary of jobs that might require you to wear a nametag, but panel three shows that they definitely have one distinct advantage: you can hurl the nametag at your boss when you quit to join the Jungle Patrol.

Momma, 1/23/08

Uh, I hesitate to say this, because it shows that I’ve been thinking about it, and it’ll make you think about it too, but … well …

Does anyone else think that Momma has been even more disturbingly and openly Oedipal than usual lately? Just askin’.

(Please note that “it” in my first sentence refers not to the unhealthy relationship between Momma and her sons, but to Momma the comic strip as a whole.)

They’ll Do It Every Time, 1/23/08

Today’s TDIET comes from faithful reader pogoer, who no doubt looks good with that tiny, tiny white kangol hat on his enormous beefy head. My question about Grandma is, what exactly is she going to do with ten pounds of litter, five pounds of sugar, and lots of canned food? Is her Campbell’s Chicken Soup not sweet and/or gritty enough? I think it’s time to put her in a home.

Comics-unrelated promotion: Hey, want to read a possibly funny thing I wrote about Internet history? Check it out at ITworld.com.

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Mark Trail, 1/19/08

That plane, for those of you not keeping up at home, is circling Mark because its passengers plan to kill him, and really, why wouldn’t they. Not only is he slowly making his way back to the nearby town that everyone keeps creepily referring to as “the community” (which makes it sound like some vaguely hippie-like cult compound) in order to drop a dime on the suddenly-not-dying-of-brain-cancer Luke Wilson, but he’s also annoying as hell, with his word balloon in panel two being representative of the sort of idiot patter he’s been keeping up for the benefit of nobody in particular. If Mark Trail were the sort of strip that provided animals with thought balloons, Andy’s would be saying “SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP” right about now. He’ll no doubt come to Mark’s rescue anyway, but Luke Wilson’s henchmen (fun phrase you probably won’t see in People magazine anytime soon: “Luke Wilson’s henchmen”) would do well to try to make the enormous canine a better offer. Since we’ve had hints that their “hunting and fishing camp” is a cover operation for some kind of monstrous crime, perhaps Andy can be wooed with the promise of all the human flesh he can eat, starting with that of his erstwhile owner.

Phantom, 1/19/08

“…uh, who I just remembered has kind of a thing about remaining unknown! Don’t worry, girls, they’ll be able to identify your bodies from all the skull marks.”

Gil Thorp, 1/19/08

Oh, Andrew! I know you’re no Clambake — you’re not even a self-clubbing Tyler — but I am beginning to fall for you a little bit. Look, he even refers to himself as “the A-Train” in his own internal monologue! Mercy.

I think the text in panel two was accidentally left in Narration Box Italic. It’s kind of surprising that the rigorous Gil Thorp quality control team didn’t catch that.

Lockhorns, 1/19/08

I’m not sure what’s sadder: that Leroy and Loretta’s social life is based around a dollar-a-day DVD rental from the public library, or that she thinks that a three-dollars-a-day DVD from Blockbuster would be a sign that they had finally arrived.

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Apartment 3-G, 1/17/08

Not to try to apply “reality” to Apartment 3-G or anything, but: don’t these people live in New York? You know, the city with one of the most extensive and useful public transit systems in the world? I don’t know if you’ve heard, but in New York lots of people ride the subway instead of taking a cab — even middle-class white girls! By themselves! This will probably shock the A3G creative team, but post-Giuliani it’s practically like riding the monorail at Disneyland, with only a slightly higher possibility of encountering a unconscious, smelly hobo.

Maybe the route from Blaze’s apartment to Lu Ann’s doesn’t lend itself to subway travel, but it is kind of weird that you never see any of these kids on the train. I mean, obviously Margo would refuse to board public transit of any kind, but Lu Ann and Alan, with their high-paying jobs of art teacher and starving artist/part-time curator/junkie, respectively, seem like prime candidates for MetroCard ownership.

Family Circus, 1/17/08

Much as it warms my black, black heart to see a Family Circus kid weeping openly, I’m a little disturbed by the sudden shift in this feature from its standard “Little kids say and/or mispronounce the darnedest things” to some kind of Pluggers-style play on words (for certain limited definitions of “play”) by an omniscient narrator. On the other hand, I admit to being pleased by the image of a perpetually sobbing PJ being hooked to electrodes and used as an alternate source of power for the Keane Kompound after they became convinced that being connected to the utility grid kept them under the thumb of the “gummint.”

Pluggers, 1/17/08

Speaking of “plays” on words: Hey, Pluggers, you get a pass on this one because it doesn’t make any sense at all, in that it’s not at all clear what if any alternate meanings of “swinger” and/or “family tree” are being referenced here, but don’t let me ever catch you inching towards doing a joke about “plugger swingers” again, OK? Ever. I mean it. There will be rage.

Mary Worth, 1/17/08

WHY YOU PUNCHIN’ YOURSELF, DR. DREW? WHY YOU PUNCHIN’ YOURSELF?

I’m assuming that Drew is assuming the “Serious High School Senior Yearbook Photo #2” pose in panel two because he’s casting his mind back to the sweet net of physical love he cast over Vera — she thought she could escape, but her struggles have only snared her further! Faithful commentors suggested a number of more plausible reasons for Vera’s change of heart. Good: Vera’s pregnant! Better: Vera got the clap, and she knows from where! (Note that these two suggestions are not mutually exclusive, obviously.)

The Phantom, 1/17/08

I’m pretty sure that tomorrow we’ll see that the stem-less word balloon in panel three is emanating from the Phantom himself, aka Ghost-Who-Buttresses-The-Patriarchy, who’s going to tell them a little something about the Jungle Patrol, specifically that it’s not for “girls.” Diana, who’s heard this spiel before, has already taken a phone call. Possible sexism aside, everyone who thought that in yesterday’s “That’s the answer! Jungle Patrol!” they had found a catchphrase for the new millennium must now admit that “Whoa, girls! Let me tell you a little something about the Jungle Patrol!” is even better.

In other news, when I first saw panel two, I thought cop-lady was grabbing waitress-lady’s left boob. I really, really want the Phantom to be more interesting than it is.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 1/17/08

Today’s TDIET is submitted by faithful reader Harold, who pushed this family-friendly feature to the brink with his demand for red-hot just-out-of-the-shower action.