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Gil Thorp, 8/8/08

If there was a terrifying malformed human feature that defined the Frank McLaughlin era of Gil Thorp, it was the hair. The Rod Whigham era has just begun, but it’s pretty clear that in the new regime, it’s the hands that are most likely to make you feel queasy and uncomfortable. Whether we’re talking about malformed flippers or severed forearms attached to nothing particular, from the elbow down everything in the modern-day Gil Thorp is a little dodgy. Today’s panel three seems to be a direct response to criticism on this point. “You want well-drawn hands?” it practically shouts. “Well, here they are, by God, straight out of an anatomy textbook, disproportionally huge, and held up at an angle that nobody would ever actually use when clapping. Are you happy? Are you happy now?”

Hagar the Horrible, 8/8/08

That sly look on Helga’s face in panel two makes me think that “rock-a-bye, baby, in the tree top” is some incredibly filthy Viking sex act, possibly involving an actual tree and the sacrifice of a dozen virgins to Freya.

Mary Worth, 8/8/08

Hey, everybody! You can follow along with Toby’s amazing phishing journey at the newly updated Enormoushop.com! Be sure to give it a few moments so as to get the full-on identity-stealing experience. (UPDATE: And by “give it a few moments” I mean “wait about 10 seconds for the redirect, then wait again for another redirect, all three screens are funny, you won’t regret it.”)

Shoe, 8/8/08

Sexual affairs? I’m much more concerned about the emotional affairs. What with all the suppressed longing and daydreaming, the ostensibly “platonic” outings crackling with sexual tension, the long, tortured e-mails about why anything more is impossible — why, it doesn’t leave any time for the important work of the elected official, like meeting with lobbyists and raising money for re-election.

I’ve long been on the record as opposing Shoe’s depiction of birds with human-lady-style breasts, since actual birds do not have such things and they look creepy and weird. Well, do you know what else birds don’t have? Teeth. You hear me, panel three? Teeth.

Marmaduke, 8/8/08

With the back yard now essentially one vast mass grave, Marmaduke has begun storing the decomposing bodies of his victims in the house.

Ziggy, 8/8/08

Ha ha! Those angry little birds are going to feast on Ziggy’s flesh!

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For Better Or For Worse, 7/11/08

You know what it’s been way, way too long since we last did? A little bit of What They Say And What They Mean!

Apartment 3-G, 7/11/08

Jack may sound concerned about the possibility that riff-raff might be pillaging the Mills Gallery, but his facial expression in panel three conveys to me a certain growing sadistic glee. I predict that a certain trio of crackheads are about to be on the receiving end of a savage and righteous keying. Perhaps Jack’s inner vigilante has been frustrated for years by modern New York’s low crime rates, or, more likely, he may realize that an act of shocking violence is the quickest way into Margo’s affections.

Mark Trail, 7/11/08

One look at that second panel will show you why Kelly Welly is considered the sex symbol in this strip. Oh yeah, baby, roll that right eye a little further towards the side of your head while staring straight ahead with the left. Mmm-hmm, that’s the stuff.

Pearls Before Swine, 7/11/08

Oh, Mr. Pastis, I ignored you when you taunted Lynn Johnston. I ignored you when you tried to kill Jeffy. But Masky McDeath? Oh, well played, sir.

Gil Thorp, 7/11/08

More proof that illegal immigrants do the sort of dirty cleanup work that Americans won’t! Steve Rosen probably refused to drive in the winning run unless he got dental insurance and overtime pay. You wouldn’t have gotten that kind of lip from Elmer.

Ziggy, 7/11/08

Ha ha, Ziggy’s killed his only friend with off-brand dog food!

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Ziggy and Blondie, 7/9/08

I’m not sure which of these two diner-themed comics is more unsettling. Most of the kids today are wholly unfamiliar with castor oil, except as an abstract thing that characters in classic Warner Brothers cartoon are comically terrified of having forced upon them, so let me be the first to tell you that it’s a laxative. Is “Mom” implying that her meatloaf is essentially an enormous colon plug, and that Ziggy’s GI tract thus needs to be prepared if he wants to survive the experience of eating it? Or is she just maternally handing out folk remedies that don’t meet FDA approval to total strangers, seeing as her children have cut off contact with her as a result of their emotionally-scarring diarrhea-plagued childhood?

An even more sinister possibility: in fascist Italy, paramilitaries would often force-feed castor oil to political dissidents as a means of intimidation, so it’s possible that Mom is a war criminal on the run.

Blondie is somewhat more straightforward, as amoral food addict Dagwood looks eager to devour the hashed up remains of some poor hobo.

Mary Worth, 7/9/08

See how easy it is to break up with someone when you don’t know how to feel? Dr. Jeff “Emo” Corey, take note.