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Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/18/08

Man, Mr. HOW ARE YOU GOING TO KILL IT just will not let up, will he? At least he’s now gone to a we’re-all-in-this-together scheme with a first person plural rather than an accusatory second person, but he’s still damn annoying. I think Skinny Coroner Guy’s MRSA advice is just an excuse to throw bleach at Yelly McShouterson and then “limit contact” with his fists.

It’s possible that our volatile vested fellow just uses this catchy phrase as his catchphrase in any and all situations. Those of you who are better than me at using Photoshop might enjoy exploring the different people and things he’s shouted HOW ARE YOU GOING TO KILL IT at, like so:

Luann, 4/18/08

I just want to point out that Luann and her mother are both ignoring that the Standard Creepiness Rule for dating age differences, as canonically described in this xkcd comic, allows for a larger age gap as both parties get older. Thus, it’s creepy for a 21-year-old to date a 16-year-old (those are my assumptions about Luann and Ben’s ages), but it’s not creepy for, say, a 30-year-old to date a 24-year-old, or a 45-year-old to be married to a 33-year-old. Sorry, Luann, you’ll just have to wait until you grow up.

(OK, mostly I just wanted to link to xkcd. It’s great! You’ll love it!)

Ziggy, 4/18/08

Wow, somebody doesn’t understand how computers or video games work at all. It’s even less athletic than you think, dude.

Apartment 3-G, 4/18/08

Man, leave it to Apartment 3-G to make even the hot girl-on-girl action boring. Please, Gabriella, this eyebrow-peck is hardly gasp-worthy.

I know I shouldn’t be looking to Lu Ann for a firm grasp of economics, but isn’t the whole point of keeping the number of prints limited to drive the price up? It’s supply and demand, just like we learned about in Curtis the other day. She’d just be encouraging her initial buyers to get rich in the resale market, if her paintings were any good.

Gil Thorp, 4/18/08

And if there’s one group who learned the hard way that you shouldn’t pay for genetic engineering unless you have the money to do it right, it’s the lumpy, mutated flipper-people of Gil Thorp.

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Ziggy, 2/29/08

Sometimes, it’s important remember that we all have a huge, aching hole inside of us, a hole of hate and despair and pain and loss. What can fill that hole? Love, of course! Except that nobody loves us. So, we’ve got to go with the next best thing: food. Food is almost like love, except in the sense that if you absorb enough of it, you’ll probably throw up. But still, you keep eating those milkshakes that are literally larger than your head, Ziggy. Because maybe this time it’ll make you feel better. Maybe this time.

Shoe, 2/29/08

Ha! It’s funny because the only thing he hates more than his wife is talking to his wife! Thankfully he’s in a bar with Shoe, where his wife can’t possibly go, because she’s a lady. Don’t worry, fella: Tasty brown liquor doesn’t expect you to hold up a conversation!

Apartment 3-G, 2/29/08

Man, how much smack is running with Alan’s veins right now? Just saying his name make Lu Ann look all heavy-lidded and blissed up. “I can’t wait to tell Alan … Alan … so nice … Alan … [falls out].”

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Hi and Lois and Shoe, 2/18/08

On the day on which we officially celebrate the birth of George Washington, and our many car dealers celebrate other, lesser, presidents, two comics have decided to honor America’s 43 chief executives by highlighting what they do best: running up huge deficits that scar our children emotionally. (Yes, I know, they have help from Congress on this, but Congress doesn’t have a holiday — a fairly puzzling development, when you think about the fact that Congress is in charge of voting holidays into existence.) Ditto Flagston has been rendered sleepless with terror in the face of the huge spending spree going on that places him and the rest of his cohort billions of dollars into debt before they even reach voting age; meanwhile, young Skyler Fishhawk is merely prematurely cynical when confronted with the abdication of governmental responsibility. Which outcome is more troubling?

Ziggy, 2/18/08

From day to day, Ziggy panels end up at various and seemingly random locations on a sliding scale of realism. On some days, we’re confronted with scenarios that might almost occur in real life, as Ziggy bickers with surly diner chefs or admonishes his pets; others seem more symbolic and dream-like, with our pantsless eponymous hero demanding self-aware automatons or confronting philosophical vending machines. Today’s installment is particularly trippy: are we to understand that the aphorism hanging over our bald, dwarfish protagonist is spray-painted on the blank expanse of wall that he’s standing in front of? Or is it something spoken aloud, but not contained in a word balloon because it’s the booming voice of our omnipresent creator? The stark shadow trailing behind Ziggy’s feet hints at the latter, as it would seem to indicate that he’s facing into some sort of blinding divine radiance. It’s kind of sad, but at the same time kind of unsurprising, that Ziggy’s God would speak in bland cliches.

Non Sequitur, 2/18/08

Non Sequitur no doubt prides itself on being the crankiest and most cynical strip around by an order of magnitude, so it’s kind of sad that today’s entry could be reworked without too much effort into a Pluggers installment.

Marvin, 2/18/08

Marvin takes a moment away from its cavalcade of hilarious ass jokes to remind you that having a child will destroy your sex life. Ha ha, so hilarious! I like that dad is holding a mug labelled “DAD”, as if to emphasize that he’s made the transition from vibrant, sexual being to exhausted, zombie-like baby minder. I’d say the heavy-lidded look of suicidal depression on the characters’ faces is another nice touch, but that’s pretty much what everyone in Marvin looks like all the time.