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Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/1/07

Now, what’s this I hear about some of you actually complaining about this apparent climax to the current Rex Morgan, M.D., storyline? Are you people insane? What better way to nicely encapsulate the utter incompetence of everybody bipedal in this strip — health care professionals, cops, drug dealers and all — than to have the main villain — who, let me remind you, is (or until recently was) armed, like, with a gun — cowering and begging for mercy before some kind of spaniel mix who can’t weigh more than, what, forty pounds? Abbey the Wonderdog is awesome. I look forward to the next plot, where she successfully begins second-guessing Rex and June’s medical diagnoses. “Well, it’s probably flu, but — what’s that, girl? You think I should screen for pneumonia? Will do!”

Luann, 3/1/07

Don’t let the fact that I managed to snag such a lovely and charming wife fool you: in my single days, I wasn’t always 100 percent sure on just what it is the girls dug. Thus, rather than make assumptions, I’d like to pose a question to the ladies out there of appropriate persuasion and age range to date, if not Brad, then someone vaguely Brad-like. If some guy you had recently started seeing invited you over to his swingin’ bachelor pad/gingerbread house, and you walked into the living room and it was painted entirely black, which of the following would be closer to the first thing that would come to your mind?

• “Wow, an all-black living room! This is pretty cool! I dig this! I’m totally going to have sex with him!”
• “OH MY GOD HE’S BROUGHT ME INTO HIS RITUAL SACRIFICE CHAMBER GET ME OUT OF HERE HELP HELP HELP”

Dick Tracy, 3/1/07

I’m just putting this up here as a helpful reminder so that if anyone ever asks you, “Say, when did Dick Tracy stop being a reliably odd chestnut and start being a horrifying acid trip,” you can say, without hesitation, “March 1, 2007.”

Pluggers, 3/1/07

So … Cathy’s a plugger?

They’ll Do It Every Time, 3/1/07

“You sire a child, and for eighteen years they expect you to pay attention to them when you’d rather be watching television. Then they finally get out of your hair, but … wha-a-a-a-a? Now they have kids that you’re supposed to feel warmly towards! OH YEAH!”

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Pluggers, 2/28/07

Do you know what really offends me about this Pluggers? It’s not that it puts me, as someone who still gets his televised entertainment over the air, into the ranks of pluggerdom; I can deal with that. (And by the way, I haven’t purchased a new set of rabbit ears in more than ten years, so I’ve out-pluggered Mr. Bald Dog Plugger Man! Ha!)

No, it’s that this panel doesn’t contain the patented Pluggers play on words or little twist. It’s the one thing Pluggers does, and here it is refusing to do it. “You’re a plugger if you seek to purchase rarely used but still useful electronic equipment”? That’s crap. Here, this is what it should have been: “Pluggers wish on their lucky rabbit ears that they’ll get good signal for the big game,” with a drawing of the Rhino-Man wearing his team’s jersey and adjusting his TV antenna. DON’T MAKE ME DO YOUR JOB FOR YOU, PLUGGERS!

Apartment 3-G, 2/28/07

It’s possible that Katy is getting chemo treatments and we’re about to get a Very Special Apartment 3-G Storyline. It’s also possible that this is the artist’s idea of a hip-looking young woman. It’s not possible that anyone in Katy’s age range (which I put at somewhere between 15 and 40) would allow her uncle to plan her birthday party for her, nor is it possible that she would utter the phrase “Oh, cool! You’re the event planner!”

Crock, 2/28/07

As a native of Buffalo, I’m offended by the implication that the inhabitants of the Queen City of the Great Lakes are all voodoo priests, hungry for chicken blood. As someone who might one day require a blood transfusion, I’m offended that anyone might think that a chicken-to-human transfusion is even possible. As someone with eyes and taste, I’m offended by Crock in general.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 2/28/07

As usual, there’s enough material to analyze in this TDIET to fill out a good-sized Ph.D. thesis, but I’ll satisfy myself with the following:

• It’s a good thing that Shalimar is identified as a “teener” in the top panel, because otherwise I would have pegged her as a “same age as her motherer”.
• What with the floppy bow-tie, ponytail, and bad teeth, Shalimar seems to have wedded the least attractive member of James Monroe’s cabinet.
• “Shalimar”?

By the way, those of you who enjoy TDIET but don’t regularly read Ruben Bolling’s Tom the Dancing Bug should check out today’s installment. You’ll have to sit through an ad to get to the cartoon if you aren’t a Salon.com subscriber, but it’s worth it.

Mary Worth, 2/28/07

I’m not sure what’s more hideous: Mary’s aqua/urine-colored ensemble, or the pug-faced little child at the bottom left of the first panel.

Slylock Fox, 2/28/07

So, remember that Funky Winkerbean from last week where it looked like Wally got blown up (but really he didn’t)? Well, apparently it offended somebody (no, really). And yet the blatant phallic banana in this Slylock Fox will in all likelihood not draw a single letter to the editor anywhere in the country.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/21/07

Oh, Rex Morgan, M.D., you’re working overtime to get back into my heart, and … heck, I’m gonna let ya. A couple more weeks of this and we could get to the level of Rex and Troy’s Big Gay Golf Game. Sure, if you wanted to have some kid clean your garage at 8 o’clock at night or so, you’d tell him to “go relax” while you “finish up” what you’re doing. “Yes, Mrs. Morgan, I’m happy that I’m going to ‘clean’ your ‘garage.’ You know, with my ‘tongue.’ We are talking about oral sex here, right? I mean, just checking.”

Niki actually looks a lot more like a slightly younger Rex in panel two and a lot less like the thirteen-year-old boy that I thought he was supposed to be. If there’s any shred of decency left in this world, we may be about to discover that this whole thing is some sort of elaborate role play that the Morgans are doing in a desperate attempt to keep their marriage fresh.

Pluggers, 2/21/07

THERE! YOU SEE? YOU SEE? PLUGGERS SMELL TERRIBLE! ROLLY CHURCH OF CRETE, NEBRASKA, SAID IT, NOT ME!