Archive: Rex Morgan, M.D.

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Slylock Fox, 9/19/11

Good lord, what has that fiend Count Weirdly done now? He’s hypnotized these innocent rodeo dudes and forced them to dance about for his entertainment! And the only way Slylock can free them is to unscramble the magic word, which is … money? Huh. I’m thinking that Weirdly didn’t “hypnotize” the cow-poking gentlemen so much as pay them for their dancing services. You know, rodeoing doesn’t pay the bills like it used to, and if a cowboy has to make a little money on the side by showing off his square-dancing skills for a private customer, well, there’s no shame in that. Why are you trying to get in the middle of this wholly innocent and consensual private transaction, Slylock?

Judge Parker and Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/19/11

Say, what’s up in the Woody Wilson-penned soap strips? Well, it looks like Sam and Abbey will be buying a monstrously oversized three-bedroom behemoth that probably isn’t legal to drive on any road in the United States, and Sam, who certainly doesn’t have the specialized certification needed to operate it, is preparing his trademark negotiating technique that will take full advantage of this rapidly bankrupting motor home dealership’s dire financial straits. Meanwhile, the Morgan family is coming to grips with the fact that they also own an indulgent and impractical vehicle that none of them know how to steer. The fact that Sarah’s egregious act of ass-kissing in the face of all reality results in her immediate promotion goes to show that loyalty is more valued than competence within the Morgan clan, which should result in some nautical good times for all of us as the S.S. Rex sinks in some spectacular and hilarious fashion mere minutes after it hits the open seas.

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Beetle Bailey, 9/10/11

Oh, Mr. Fireman, I think General Halftrack knows very well how this show ends. It ends with him dying in the fire he set himself, drinking himself into a stupor as the smoke fills his lungs. He hates himself too much to go on living, just as he hates his wife too much to leave her the satisfaction of a nice house to live out her final years in. Don’t bother trying to rescue him; you’re just wasting your time.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/10/11

Today’s fun fake punk rock slang: “We need to make this scene!” Use it whenever you feel compelled to put on an appearance at the hot party of your choice, won’t you?

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Six Chix, 8/24/11

When I was a teenager, I saw a movie on the Lifetime Channel about the serious problem of bulimia, and the two scenes in it that have stuck with me are (a) one where two teenage girls are in a van in the woods, and one teenage girl, who is initiating the other in the joys of eating disorders, says “I call it scarf … and barf,” and (b) one where the mother of the second teenage girl opens a closet and finds all the jars of vomit the daughter’s been secretly hoarding, and immediately staggers back in shock and horror, which I found surprising because, really, could you honestly say that you’d be able to identify at first glance a jar filled with puke that resulted from a binge-and-purge cycle? Anyway, recently one of my nieces claimed that she was shown this film in a health class, which I found surprising because … squirreling away jars of vomit isn’t something actual bulimics do, is it? Please tell me that it isn’t.

Anyway, this comic brought up some memories of that film, for obvious reasons! Also, it made me feel like a cranky old person who mourns the coarseness of modern life. After all, if the actual comics are going to make baby-bird-food-is-vomit-even-for-anthropomorphized-birds jokes, how am I supposed to stay relevant making those exact same jokes on my “edgy” blog?

Apartment 3-G, 8/24/11

Oh, look, Apartment 3-G is proving that “Hoboken” is an inherently funny word as it coins its second Hoboken-themed catchphrase of the year. “He’s from Hoboken, Margo, not the moons of Jupiter!” isn’t quite at the same level as “Too fancy for Hoboken and too hot for church,” but it’s still pretty good.

Beyond the fine phrase-turning, though, I have some issues with the dynamics at play here. For one thing, we’re now more than 20 years into the marketing of the western shore of the Hudson as the “Gold Coast,” within a quick PATH or ferry commute to New York; a denizen of Hudson County is at least as likely to be a stockbroker as a piano mover, though I concede that Margo’s snobbery is probably pretty accurate in terms of how arch-Manhattanites feel about the place. More importantly, though, the idea that Lu Ann is some kind of urban sophisticate who could never find happiness with a simple working man from New Jersey is completely laughable to anyone who’s actually read the strip. Heck, even if this were the one and only Apartment 3-G you’d ever seen, you might still question the idea that the cowering blonde in the all-white shirt with the old-timey collar would be too cool to be romantically involved with anyone.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 8/24/11

Will this pair of lovelorn widows with unnaturally sharp features find love together? All signs point to yes, despite the clownish vibe that the couple will give off, due to their freakishly bright hair!

Blondie, 8/24/11

What if you developed a sexual obsession with a television personality, an obsession that occupied your every spare thought, an obession that, for obvious reasons, you could never discuss with your wife, the person with whom you shared all of your other most intimate secrets? That’s a dilemma that would manifest itself in some pretty weird ways, I’ll bet.