Post Content

Judge Parker, 4/7/09

Judge Parker has long been known as the soap opera strip most concerned with land use and planning issues, which is why we were treated to a weeks-long story on water rights a couple of years back. Now, to bide the time while Sophie puts her plans into motion to completely upend junior high’s social hierarchies and emerge as her school’s beautiful and terrifying goddess-queen, our B-team will be keeping everyone posted on the intriguing possibilities of well-planned big box reuse.

Still, I’m uneasy with this whole “Europa Aerospace” company. Does that sound like the sort of company that will happily be producing solar cells to help cut down on our reliance on fossil fuels? Or the sort of company that plans to help Europe conquer outer space? Soon decaying, empty former Wal-Marts and Targets everywhere will be transformed into launch pads for small but stylish rockets. These Euronaut-piloted vehicles will litter Earth orbit with fashionable, smoke-filled zero-G bistros and brasseries, discos housing endless throbbing techno dance parties, and thousand-year-old cathedrals. It’s a damn shame that a genuine American hero like Steve was used to enable Eurotrash’s orbital triumph.

Gil Thorp, 4/7/09

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that the greatest Gil Thorp plots are the ones in which one of the characters suffers some form of head trauma. Thus, I’m very excited about the possible directions in which this plot might travel. Will we be treated to a rare but thrilling instance of Thorpian rage? Or will we instead enjoy a comic amnesia plot, in which Gil forgets his whole life to this point and is baffled to find himself in charge of a hideous band of loser teenagers in the worst town imaginable?

Mark Trail, 4/7/09

“Be sure not to tell me, though, because Lord knows I can’t be bothered about things that involve humans. Now, if a bear or a raccoon were lost and in trouble, I might get worked up, but you? Not so much.”

Pluggers, 4/7/09

For pluggers, finding 42 cents worth of loose stamps in a drawer is an “achievement,” I guess.

Post Content

Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/3/09

HEY EVERYONE JUNE MORGAN IS IN HER BIKINI! HOT! HUBBA HUBBA WOO HOO OK, look. Doubt my credentials as a heterosexual comic-loving man if you must, but I simply cannot get myself worked up over drawings of sexy ladies. I mean, sexy ladies are intriguing to me as a rule, but when it comes to cartoons, it’s hard for me to forget that someone, somewhere, generally a dude, was drawing said sexy lady, and usually thinking, “Hmm, I’ve seen sexy ladies in real life, but with the powers of my artistry, I can add even more sexiness!” Which in practice usually means “I can make her boobs even bigger!”

I don’t pretend to be consistent on this point. For instance, it’s well known that I have certain … feelings for Margo Magee. And Margo is nice enough to look at, but my feelings are primarily driven by the fact that she’s a hilarious, tightly-wound bag of angry crazy, which is the sort of thing I’ve been known to go for in the past. And while Margo’s wonderfully antisocial personality is as much a fictional construct as, say, Abbey Spencer’s ass crack, somehow it’s much harder for me to ignore the artifice involved in the construction of the latter.

And speaking of artifice … I’m not a professional breastologist or anything, but I’m pretty sure that one’s cleavage does not consist of two perfect and slightly separated semi-circles if one’s bosom is the one that God gave you. Having a surgically enhanced cartoon fantasy object strikes me as particularly bizarre and off-putting, to be sure, but what I really want to know is: whose work are we looking at here? Certainly not Rex’s; breast-enhancement surgery can take hours, and that’s much longer than he’d ever want to spend touching a girl’s boobies.

Blondie, 4/3/09

Blondie comments on the current economic crisis: the unemployed masses, their lives destroyed by the decisions of the powerful, weep openly in the street, just outside the fine restaurants where the captains of industry who got us into this mess dine on gourmet foods, served on china plates and fine tablecloths. The workers who are still employed sit by uncomfortably, afraid to protest at the injustice for fear of joining the starving hysterics in the gutter, wracked with shame over their collaboration in their own oppression.

Dennis the Menace, 4/3/09

Hey, Mr. Wilson, it’s the government that publicizes the names and addresses of sex offenders, not the television stations. But I admit that when they ran that picture of your house with the caption “PERVERTS IN YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD” as the lead story on the 6 o’clock news, that was a little much.

Pluggers, 4/3/09

You’re a plugger if you euphemistically refer to an anonymous sex party as “league bowling.” (The rest of us call it “book club.”)

Post Content

Pluggers, 3/31/09

Ha ha, remember a couple of weeks ago, when something that went around a plugger’s waist was very long, because pluggers are fat? Well, it turns out that other things that are supposed to go around a plugger’s waist aren’t long enough! Because pluggers are fat, you see. Also, take a look at some plugger ass!

Since male pluggers are almost universally portly, why is poor Rhino-man the butt (ha ha) of all the “pluggers are fat” jokes? This might explain why he’s always so depressed (though it might be because he’s poor).

Gasoline Alley, 3/31/09

“And by ‘cry,’ I mean ‘tear off my own face!’ Argh, basic human kindness sends me into an insane rage!”

Hi and Lois, 3/31/09

Is this the beginning of Trixie’s transformation from “sunbeam-loving cherub” to “cold-blooded sociopath”? If so, can we sic her on Marvin?