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Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/8/11

Rex Morgan plotlines are actually pretty varied, but in many of them there comes a point when the wacky ancillary characters get in over their head and the Morgans have to bail them out. Inevitably, Rex uses this occasion to act like a put-upon dick. Panel three today, with Rex’s best “oh Lord, the humans and their problems, why can’t I just be left alone to read my newspaper in absolute silence” expression yet, should as far as I’m concerned be hanging up in every art museum in the world.

Mary Worth, 4/8/11

“That little girl with bone cancer who needs her pain meds in Room 287? Fuck her! I’m living in the moment.”

Momma, 4/8/11

The title character in Momma is a cruel, passive-aggressive narcissist, whose parenting style is so monstrous that there’s absolutely no question as to why the her children are so dysfunctional. But the strip has one saving grace, which is that it’s always clear that she’s very, very depressed.

Jumble, 4/8/11

Silly math teacher! You have to go to work every day to try and fail to inspire a group of sullen, hateful teenagers with your love of the beauty and wonder of mathematics. No amount of coffee will make your soul whole!

Panel from Apartment 3-G, 4/8/11

“So if you’re drunk, I’m thinking we could have a pretty good time.”

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Apartment 3-G, 4/7/11

Abandoned by her roommates, Margo is forced to bathroom on her own! That’s kind of an oddly drawn toilet brush; at first glance, I thought it might be some sort of archaic feathery masturbatory aid, but surely Margo is far too self-actualized to refer to self-pleasure as “dirty work.” Anyway, whether we’re talking cleaning the commode or rubbing one out, Margo doesn’t need to do it because Trey’s shown up. Have fun, Trey! Hope you don’t have to go to the bathroom, I hear it’s gross.

Mark Trail, 4/7/11

The Mark Trail drug-smuggling plot has ended rather anticlimactically, with Mark guiding his stolen plane to a nearby commercial airport, dropping off his escapee passengers, and he idle small talk with his government handler, who I assume had written him off for dead weeks ago. “Oh, hey,” he remarks casually, “there’s an island within a day’s boat-drift of U.S. soil where a narcotics kingpin rules with an iron fist and keeps people as slaves. You might want to look into that or whatever.”

I also look forward to the confused encounter between Lonnie and the Coast Guard that will result from Mark’s brush-off in panel two. “Your family? Uh … do they live near a coast?”

Dennis the Menace, 4/7/11

Ha ha, this is exactly the sort of thing that would normally send Mr. Wilson into a rage! But his pupils are invisible because his eyes are rolled back behind his drooping eyelids, indicating that he’s been in a dissociated state for hours. If Mrs. Wilson wants to call that “senility,” that’s fine, I guess; whatever keeps him out of her hair, amiright?

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Marvin, 4/6/11

Ha ha, “delayed job stress syndrome,” what a whimsical concept! Wait, you say that this is actually a serious condition, that it’s called “post-traumatic stress disorder,” and that, depressingly enough, bomb-sniffing dogs sometimes do suffer from it? Thanks a lot for bringing everyone down, Marvin. Next time stick to poop jokes, why don’t you?

Funky Winkerbean, 4/6/11

Speaking of whimsy, Funky Winkerbean is casting its narrative eye back to a time when it was wacky and cancer free. Here’s a delightful episode from Les’s high school days, when he was so terrified of being physically assaulted that he pissed himself. Those were the good old days, huh?

Apartment 3-G, 4/6/11

Meanwhile, Lu Ann and Paul’s romance has slipped into a comfortable pattern, in which each of them subjects the other in turn to a form of entertainment that he or she hates. This will presumably go on until one of them breaks, at which point the other will win. “At last,” Margo thinks, “Lu Ann is in a relationship that I understand!”