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Herb and Jamaal, 7/25/08

I’ve been reading Herb and Jamaal for years now — long, boring years, in which the lack of specific references to anything have left virtually no concrete memories in my mind. Still, I’m pretty sure that this is the first time since I’ve been keeping up with the strip that we’ve met Herb’s mother. At least, I’m assuming this is supposed to be Herb’s mother, since his mother-in-law was complaining about her imminent arrival earlier this week. It could just be some middle-aged Jewish guy Herb’s reminiscing about his father with for some reason.

Mary Worth, 7/25/08

“Jeff, the only thing stopping us is ourselves! Darn us and our pathological inability to feel pleasure!”

I’ve been to some fancy seafood restaurants where they have the evening’s fish selections laid out on ice in a case for you to look at before ordering. The Bum Boat goes one better, apparently, by just nailing the catch of the day to the wall. That way, the elderly clientele won’t hurt their necks by bending down to look at it.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/25/08

“Ha ha, you’re right, I am making that up! I actually spent the afternoon having sex in the back of our car with some guy I met on Craigslist. I don’t think I buttoned my shirt up properly afterwards. Wait, did I just say all that aloud?”

Pluggers, 7/25/08

Pluggers don’t need real bifocals because the TV listings are the only thing they ever read.

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Slylock Fox, 7/6/08

Never mind Count Weirdly’s unnecessarily complex plastic-ice-cube-based alibi for his rather pedestrian Best Buy theft. How could the callous Count have left his menagerie of beasties alone without fresh food and water during his long trip? Whatever food the fish and the vulture were left with has been reduced to mere bones, and the hairy thing in the cage appears to just be urinating all over the floor. I don’t even want to think about how long it’s been since the brain in the jar has been watered. Perhaps Weirdly’s pointless computer crime was just an elaborate, roundabout way to get Slylock and Max to come and feed his pets, or possibly be eaten by them.

I love the aging hippie in the Six Differences. Perhaps he’s taking his grandson on a tour of America’s diners, his aging psychedelic van still blaring “Freedom Rock” out of the 8-track player as they roam our nation’s byways.

For Better Or For Worse, 7/6/08

Grandma Marion is learning the sad truth about the comics afterlife: despite the fact that you no doubt remember yourself as the ravishing young bride who actually wore the dress that you’re ectoplasmically helping to mend, you instead only get to come back as aged and potato-nosed. You’re also wearing an apron, because even in the Great Beyond, you’re expected to cook.

Funky Winkerbean, 7/6/08

The muscle-flexing, mustachioed cop in the next-to-last panel seriously led me to believe that this was the set-up for some kind of gay erotica. Since it involves the cast of Funky Winkerbean, it would be part of an extremely specific genre known as “mope porn.”

Mary Worth, 7/6/08

Speaking of mope porn … wow, Dr. Jeff has sure reached some kind of horrifying nadir of self-abasement. Will every man who lusts after Mary’s sensibly clad bod have his will broken before he can be truly worthy of her love? Aldo’s rough wooing was action of a sort, and though it led to his humiliation and horrible death, at least he didn’t spend his time slouching around the house drunkenly thought-ballooning at her picture.

Panel from Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/6/08

“Clam down” is going to be my new all-purpose reaction to people who sound like crazy men. If they are actually crazy, it’ll freak the hell out of them. “CLAM DOWN, MAN! CLAM DOWN! OYSTER! CLAM CLAM! BIVALVE!”

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Dramatic reversals in the Wednesday serials — let’s dive right in!

Spider-Man, 6/25/2008

Oh, snap! Peter can’t stop the Vulture or even get pictures of anybody but himself. Jonah exploits his failure to buy the photos for a pittance, then spins the story so Spidey has to go back at the Vulture, sick or not. Let’s officially retitle this strip Jonah and be done with it.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 6/25/2008

And in an instant, Rex’s life is changed forever. Effortlessly, doughy Tom Arnold lookalike Max Mallory pierces his tissue of lies and threatens his cover, shield, and only source of strength. The roses in panel two tell us — and Rex — that Max now owns him no less completely than Mary owns Jeff. MRSA can sleep safe tonight.

Mary Worth, 6/25/2008

Today: Mary’s thought-bubbles beat down Jeff’s phone messages. Next: Mary’s emails beat down Jeff’s semaphore signals. Really, this strip could get along perfectly well without people. At least these people.

Apartment 3-G, 6/25/2008

Margo struggles with the whole “Tommie getting more than me” concept. There, there, dear — we’ve all been down that road.

Luann, 6/25/2008

Dear Mom:

Thank you for raising me. I am all grown up now. And a fireman! See my axe? Now shut the fuck up!

Love,

your Bradley

— Uncle Lumpy