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Pluggers, 4/23/07

Not much of interest to say about today’s Pluggers, except that “Greg Harruff” is actually faithful Comics Curmudgeon reader gh, who, having seen this feature many times on this blog, realized that the easiest way to get his submission accepted would be to go down the oft-trod “Pluggers are obese” route.

Greg wrote me to say that the Chief Plugger never responded to his submission, which he sent in six weeks ago or so, and that he only found out it had been accepted when he saw it live and in the ink today. Greg also requested that the thanks go to his pseudonym of “GH”, which request was, as you can see, not honored. This, I have to say, is Not Classy. You might think based on the content of TDIET that Al Scaduto is tightly wound ball of hate-filled rage, but in fact he sends a cheery and gentlemanly response to everyone who submits ideas to him, whether he uses them or not; and if he does make a cartoon out of your submission, he’ll send you a copy of it, and he’s happy to credit it to “No Name Please” or “Many Husbands Across the U.S.A.” or (as in today’s) “Fed-Up Wifey” if that’s what you want. I guess pluggers are simple folk who just don’t expect to be treated with an ounce of consideration.

Apartment 3-G, 4/23/07

The Apartment 3-G Lu Ann storyline continues to be deathly dull, and this is about the fourth iteration of essentially this girl-ghost confrontation, but I just had a brainstorm this morning when I read it: what if “Albert Pinkham Ryder” is actually Eric Mills in an elaborate disguise? (Not that it would have to be particularly elaborate to fool Lu Ann.) It would explain his mysterious absences, and we’ve already seen that he has some horribly misguided belief in Lu Ann’s artistic talent; presumably he’s trying to generate more revenue for himself as her impresario by forcing her to churn more mediocre fern paintings out. It’s possibly the most moronic and inefficient use of his time to get rich that I can think of, but he also apparently believes that he can toy with Margo’s affections (among other things) without ending up eviscerated by her razor-sharp claws, so he’s clearly not very bright.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/23/07

Boy, for a while there Rex Morgan was all about plane crashes and rescue squads and corporate intrigue and family drama. Thank God we’ve moved on to something really exciting.

Slylock Fox, 4/23/07

Oh, goody! Let’s have a double date! We’ll nestle on the couch by the fire, drinking hot tea and eating cookies. We can look at Slylock’s collection of antique clocks and car-shaped trophies (he’s so proud of the one he won for FIRST), and we can have ever so much fun challenging each other with brain teasers! Then, after about an hour of that, the orgy will start.

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Slylock Fox, 4/16/07

We all know that Slylock and Max use their status in the community as well-known vigilantes to spy on consensual B&D play. I suspect that this little puzzle has been staged to further their sex lives as well. It’s the reason why the stubbly dog/bear/whatever thing looks so mad despite the fact that it’s the toad that’s ostensibly guilty. Clearly our dynamic duo of ratiocination have slipped this pair of lowlifes a tenner to act the part of the villains in this little sham mystery; the dog/bear thing is realizing that while his share of the payoff won’t last more than the five minutes it takes him to polish off two shots of whisky, the mouse and the fox just earned themselves several nights of sweet mystery-solving lovin’. The toad, being an amphibian, doesn’t understand the mating habits of mammals, and just stares on dumbly.

Apartment 3-G, 4/16/07

OH SNAP MARGO YOU JUST GOT CALLED A BUN-HEADED HO!

Since Katy’s mom is “Ms. Mills,” she’s clearly Eric’s sister-in-law rather than his actual sister, and so therefore fair game for bitter hatred from our gal Magee. In the real world, of course, it would be possible that she had just kept her maiden name, but in the comics pages nobody does that for fear of unleashing thousands of angry letters from people ranting about “feminazis.” They’re going to get a few of those anyway just for using the dreaded “Ms.”

Gil Thorp, 4/16/07

“Lock your eyes on one hole, get set, and swing. And keep doing it” is of course an unspeakably filthy phrase, but in a strip that frequently features dialogue like “Liz Ritter all but forces Stormy Hicks to go to The Bucket,” it’s not really all that remarkable. What’s more disturbing to me is the fact that that the appointment of Lisa Wyche’s wannabe jock mom as assistant girls hoops coach is not an isolated incident: Apparently Milford High is going to make a habit of allowing bored, isolated community members to give rambling instructions on athletic techniques to the school’s students. This could cause trouble. I’m sure in the movies we’d all enjoy the kindly old man who offers his years of experience to coach the team of misfits to a championship season, but in this age of insane paranoia, once the PTA gets wind that some bald dude is urging the town’s youth to “lock your eyes on one hole” and “keep doing it,” they’d ride him out of town on a rail.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 4/16/07

Never mind Walt Warbler’s blatant resume-padding; isn’t it kind of odd that Lula Patoot is doing touring-company theater in the sticks just days after she inked that $15 million move deal?

What I’m most intrigued by here, of course, is the play that Lula and Walt will be singing in, Les Misebarf. I’m assuming that, following in the wake of Urinetown’s success, it’s a re-imagining of Victor Hugo’s classic novel of political upheaval in France with the characters expressing their deep-felt emotions by vomiting on one another. Patrons with seats in the first few rows are warned that they will get wet. What I want to know: is it pronounced “Miz-barf,” “Miz-ay-barf,” or “Mies-barf”?

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Family Circus, 4/13/07

As I noted yesterday, I’m an only child and don’t understand siblings and their ways. Those of you who grew up in big families: did you ever have little get-togethers like this to discuss your feelings about family dynamics when you were under the age of ten? I like how happy Jeffy seems to be to share is feelings of total inadequacies with the rest of the brood, and the palpable shock and disgust on the faces of Billy, Dolly, and even PJ. I’m guessing that immediately after that bit of dialogue, the punching began.

Mary Worth, 4/13/07

When I tell people I like Mary Worth, they often say things like “Why?” or “Good God, why?” or “Why would anyone read that boring, boring old comic strip?” Days like today prove that “boring” is a word that should never be used in regards to this feature. This is a finely detailed depiction of psychological brinksmanship! Thrill as Mary completely bypasses the normal polite rules of human interaction, and forces Vera to either agree to give up her precious privacy or explicitly spurn an old lady! The fact that the strip ends in mid-sentence only adds to the excitement. Will Vera’s conclusion be “…of course I’ll have dinner with you! What should I bring?” or “…why don’t you eat with THE REST OF THE DEMONS IN HELL, YOU OLD HAG?” How will I be able to hold out until tomorrow?

Apartment 3-G, 4/13/07

I’m really, really upset that we didn’t actually get to see Katy’s birthday party — not because I’m a sicko who likes to watch the birthday parties of sixteen-year-old cancer patients, but because I have long suspected that Margo is a total incompetent whatever attention-grabbing scheme she’s attempting to use as a vehicle for meeting a rich man at any given moment. Some years ago we saw her completely screw up doing publicity for one of Blaze’s plays because she got wind of some piece of ass; I fully expected her party planning career to have gone down in flames by now as well. While the streamers, balloons, and hand-painted sign that reads HAPD BIRT don’t exactly scream “$100 an hour party planner”, who knows what sort of “awesome” activities we missed. Maybe Usher was there, or strippers, or Usher stripping.

True story: last year on my birthday my wife and I spent a relaxing day together and by mid-afternoon I was pretty pleased with how the day went. But then were driving back from the pool we belong to through a kind of ritzy neighborhood, and some kids were having a birthday party in the yard of this huge house, and they were unloading a goddamned llama out of the back of a llama truck, and my day felt a little less special. What I’m trying to say, Margo, is where’s the llama? I know it’s hard to get one into a Manhattan apartment, but what Katy wants, Katy gets.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 3/13/07

Like a magpie fixated on a shiny piece of tinfoil, I can’t get a single phrase from Hubby’s rambling diatribe out of my mind: “Earth warming.” At first I thought it was an attempt to use up slightly less word balloon real estate than the more conventional “global warming,” but if that were the case I think the thing to do would have been to lose one or more of the “etc”s. So I’m thinking it’s one of two things:

• Those who believe that global warming is a real danger are trying to rebrand it to convince the unconvinced. “Huh, I know global warming is junk science, but maybe there’s something to this ‘Earth warming’ thing.”
• People who have been denying global warming all along have finally been convinced, but feel that they can’t admit they were wrong without looking dumb, so this is their way of getting around it. “Global warming? Liberal propaganda! It’s just to distract you from the dangerous problem of ‘Earth warming’ — a danger you can only hear about here on Fox!”

Also, I first read Hubby’s initial news item as pertaining to a “bug strike” and charmingly imagined a group of ants and beetles walking in a circle carrying tiny signs that read “PLEASE DO NOT STEP ON US”.

Slylock Fox, 4/13/07

I can’t decide if the message of today’s Slylock Fox is “Cab rides with nearsighted drivers are a horrifying nightmare” or “Sticking your head out of a moving car is ill-advised, no matter how much fun your dog seems to have doing it.” But the multiple images give the whole thing a pleasing pop art quality.