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Apartment 3-G, 11/19/10

This is something like day six of Tommie’s new concert piano being the source of Apartment 3-G’s drama without said piano actually appearing, and I’m beginning to think that the strip’s artist (who, remember, is not the same person at the strip’s writer) is unwilling or unable to draw one and desperately hoping that the story’s focus will shift to something more up his alley. “The doorbell’s ringing! Maybe it’ll be a handsome sandy-haired man wearing a suit jacket and no tie!”

Blondie, 11/19/10

I think we all pretty much assumed that Dagwood’s porn preferences would include something delicious and edible, but even I didn’t anticipate anything quite this unsettlingly depraved.

Gil Thorp, 11/19/10

“Hey, don’t worry, beardy third-string coach nobody cares about! Coach Kaz’ll keep ’em focused! With my windswept hairdo and totally rad and extreme Ray-Ban sunglasses, these kids know I’m cool — and they’ll respect me because of it!”

Ziggy, 11/19/10

Wow, Ziggy sure is on a tear of stiffing waiters on tips. I’m not sure what ethnicity this guy is supposed to be so that we can make a culturally specific joke about how he’s going to assault Ziggy for his cheapness. Is he French? Do they serve meatloaf at French restaurants?

Shoe, 11/19/10

OH GOD DON’T THINK ABOUT WHY THE MORTICIAN IS A VULTURE DON’T THINK ABOUT IT

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Family Circus, 11/9/10

Maybe it’s just me, but Dolly appears to be exuding a weird and unsettling combination of anxiety and self-awareness here. It’s like she knows that she’s supposed to be churning out yet another adorable malapropism, for the seventy quadrillionth day in a row, and quite honestly she’s got some performance anxiety about it, in part because the whole scene is pretty stale to her at this point. “Uh, yeah, I want my french fries to, uh … wear ketchup? Like, it’s clothes, except it’s a condiment? Damn it, I got nothing.” Billy, meanwhile, is sitting across the table staring at her in a sort of mute disbelief at her inability to come up with anything better. “‘Wear ketchup,’ huh? Wow, Dolly, I always thought you were on top of your game. But that … that wasn’t even trying. It’s like you’ve forgotten what being a Keane Kid is all about, which is saying adorably dumb shit about anything and everything. ‘Wear ketchup.’ Honestly.”

Shoe, 11/9/10

“Also, I’m a bird, so I don’t have teeth, and I’m pretty sure I don’t actually have ‘nails’ per se! Do claws count? Does pulling at them with my beak count?”

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Marvin, 11/1/10

Here is today’s Marvin! It is about how the title character, who is the world’s worst baby, takes pride in the fact that he sits around in his own mess, and thinks that anyone who takes the effort to control their various lower sphincters until they can dispose of their bodily wastes in a sanitary fashion is a sucker. Marvin disgusts me, if you can’t tell!

Shoe, 11/1/10

And yet my immediate thought when reading today’s Shoe was “Ha ha, that momma bird is exhausted because she spent the night barfing whatever greasy food she eats at Roz’s diner into her baby’s mouth! Yet the strip would never dare mention such a thing, despite its ostensible bird-based premise.” These contrasting reactions prove that I am hard to please, and also gross.

Marmaduke, 11/1/10

OH GOD HE HAS THE POWER OF FLIGHT NOW NONE OF US ARE SAFE