Post Content

Apartment 3-G, 6/6/08

Reasons why Margo might have the Wedding March set as her phone’s ringtone:

• She’s read the The Secret and now believes she can make a marriage proposal happen by sheer force of will; thus, she surrounds herself with wedding-related media at all times.
• That ringtone indicates a phone call from her hapless assistant Sam, who’s been left in charge of her now largely forgotten wedding planning business. He’s probably calling for help about yet another peacock-related disaster.
• That ringtone’s been assigned to Eric, about whom Margo finally stopped caring about five minutes ago. He’s using his satellite phone to make his one phone call from the police station allowed by Chinese law before he has his organs harvested, but Margo’s decided to fall for Jack’s brushcut charms instead.

(By the way, that strip with Sam in it that I linked to above is more than a year old, and Margo is already boasting about her imminent engagement! So sad, so sad.)

Mary Worth, 6/6/08

“That’s right, Mary! Now that my mother’s literal dead weight is no longer holding me back, I’m someone of stature and consequence in this town! That woman in the hideously patterned shirt … that intellectual snob, out reading in public … why, I could have either of them thrown in jail, their lives destroyed, as easy I can clench my right fist, like so! I’ll be ordering you the house Chianti at La Rosa, but I won’t be drinking any; I’m already drunk with power!”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 6/6/08

“No way, man! You’ll pry my filthy, soiled wrestling mats from my cold, dead, MRSA-infected hands!”

Slylock Fox, 6/6/08

Cowboy one is out of his mind on mescaline; cowboy three is taking a “spirit journey” thanks to peyote; cowboys two and four are tweaking on good, old-fashioned meth.

Post Content

Wizard of Id, 6/3/08

This comic is, obviously, yet another in a long line of depressing “my ex-wife is a loathsome harridan, yet I once loved her ha ha ha I hate myself” jokes that have been providing the legacy comics industry with punchlines since no-fault divorce became widely available. However, I think it’s worth pointing out that the Wizard of Id takes place in some at least notionally medieval setting, where presumably witchcraft remains a viable folk tradition, so it sort of makes sense that a bookstore would have a whole section dedicated to it.

I also think it’s worth pointing out that the only bookstores I’ve ever seen that look like the one depicted here (low-slung, featureless, no windows, cheap sign) tended to specialize in porn.

Mary Worth, 6/2/08

I think that Toby has long considered herself Mary’s acolyte and Charterstone’s chief-meddler-in-waiting; now that Mary has been emotionally weakened, she smells blood and is trying to vault to alpha meddler status while the old queen is still alive. Naturally, she’s pretty terrible at it, even with the bar set as low as it is. “Wow, you just sort of broke up and are really mad at each other! Why not spend a bunch of time together, alone, in a strange place where you don’t know anybody else and have to rely on each other to figure out what to do?”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 6/2/08

In case you’re wondering why I haven’t mentioned Rex Morgan in nearly a month, it’s because the strip has focused on the good doctor as he painstakingly pieces together the movements of a bunch of filthy old wrestling mats. Makes you wish for the profoundly uncomfortable glory days of implied pederasty, doesn’t it?

Judge Parker, 6/2/08

Your go-to move if you’re an old white lady caught in a major narcotics bust: blame a Mexican.

Marmaduke, 6/2/08

You can only repress your emetophagia for so long before it starts to come out, subconsciously.

(PS — COTWs tomorrow morning — sorry for the delay!)

Post Content

Slylock Fox, 5/4/08

Hey, look, everybody! Cassanda Cat’s back up to her naughty tricks again! The crimes perpetrated in Slylock Fox are generally pretty small-time, but stealing a jar full of pennies from a rabbit seems particularly petty, the sort of thing one might do just to mess with someone, or perhaps to attract the attention of a certain law enforcement officer. The fact that she’s just dumping her ill-gotten gains into a well brings her contempt for the stolen property into nice focus.

(And hey! Don’t forget that you can buy Cassandra Cat stuff from the Comics Curmudgeon store!)

I also think the picture up top, with the cat and dog tending the poor toothachy kid, is very sweet. (Note: Domestic pets are not a substitute for professional dental care.)

Panel from Luann, 5/4/08

Today we learn that Luann’s dad has the same sweet little pet nickname for her mom that the British had for the Germans during World War I. I’m sure when they get amorous, she puts on one of those helmets with the big spikes on top and he begs her to “execute the Schlieffen Plan,” if you know what I mean, and I think you do.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 5/4/08

“Hello, we’re the creative team behind Rex Morgan, M.D.! It’s come to our attention that some of you find action-packed plots about blackmail, escaped prisoners, and flesh-eating bacteria to be ‘boring’! Well, what if you were able to enjoy those same plots … but they involved sexy people in their underwear? America, get ready for Rex Morgan, M.N.! The ‘M.N.’ stands for ‘mostly naked!'”

Panel from Apartment 3-G, 5/4/08

Lately, the Sunday Apartment 3-G strips have been even more obvious rehashes of the previous week than usual, leaving me virtually no reason to ever comment on them. This panel from today’s installment caught my eye, however, when you consider its parallel from Saturday’s strip:

It’s very sad that a clean-living young man such as myself has to lecture the comics industry on this point, but: DRUG LINGO IS NOT INTERCHANGEABLE. Also, it has evolved somewhat since 1953. Please do a minimum amount of Internet research before attempting to deploy “street” talk in your comic. You’ll be glad you did.

For Better Or For Worse, 5/4/08

Ha! It’s funny because Michael hates his children, and hopes that if he ignores them they’ll go away! The second and third panels of the second row are particularly instructive; I defy you to find anyone, even among touch-typists, who types with their eyes closed. He’s obviously just hammering away at the keyboard churning out nonsense to drown out his daughter’s desperate pleas for attention.