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Funky Winkerbean, 4/1/11

Ha ha, let’s all laugh at some privileged, sheltered high school student passing out after she had her nose rubbed in the grim reality of future life in Funkyworld. She was probably taken off guard because the promised horror was economic in nature rather than medical. I take issue with her teacher’s unqualified statement about these doomed post-Millennials or Gen Z-ers or whatever we’re calling them being “the first generation” to suffer an economic decline: I think Americans who came of age in, say, the 1930s might have something to say about that, or their grandparents who went through the now largely forgotten dramatic boom-bust cycles of economic panics that marked the second half of the 19th century. And then there are all the generations in earlier eras of history, who lived through actual civilizations collapsing completely! But, to be fair, if any more explanatory dialogue, like the phrase “since World War II,” had been added to that enormous word balloon in the second panel, there wouldn’t be any room for the drawings.

Momma, 4/1/11

Momma, don’t you read Funky Winkerbean? Francis is unemployed, unkempt, and sleeping in a pile of his own filth — this is the new mainstream of American life!

Mary Worth, 4/1/11

If you thought that the “Dawn is a desperate Internet junkie” plot was unrealistic, wait until we get into the “Dr. Drew is irresistible to women!” plot. The Dawn plot did end rather abruptly (by this strip’s standards — why, the static, boring rehash of how her problem was solved took less than a week!) and so I have to imagine that these two narrative strands will ultimately come together, hopefully in a manner that will once again result in Dawn smacking the crap out of the libidinous younger Corey.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/1/11

Our storyline’s villains, Flattop and the Mustache, are attempting to take an easily influenced Dex under their wing and reap his rightful share of the lottery winnings. Unfortunately for them, they don’t understand just how easily influenced he is. At the moment when he’s most in need of guidance, his eyes will settle on the waitress’s “Ask me about our pie” button and, like a baby duck imprinting on its mother, will decide that she has all the answers — about pie, and everything else. She’ll end up representing him in court, and her closing arguments will entirely consist of a description of the available desserts. The jury will award Dex the entire amount of the winnings, plus millions in damages, plus, just for good measure, free pie for life.

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Herb and Jamaal, 3/31/11

You can’t really call this the gayest Herb and Jamaal ever — not in a world where this strip exists — but still, a couple of guys takin’ off their shirts and inspectin’ each other’s bods — that seems just a little bit homoerotic, right? It’s all good fun until we get to panel three. Jamaal’s nose stands out straight and stiff as he admires what he thinks is his friend’s good fashion sense, then almost immediately retract into flaccid tinyness when he finds out that Herb has body hair, like a normal male human. I don’t know what’s more unsettling: that Jamaal has a nose-cock, or that Jamaal finds sweater vests so deeply arousing.

Apartment 3-G, 3/31/11

You know, we’ve all had so much fun making fun of the extended failure to explain who or what Dan Diller is that I just realized something: nobody actually cares, and drawing it out isn’t making anybody care anymore. So knock it off, Apartment 3-G; it’s not amusing. Do those people sitting behind Iris and Dan look like they’re enjoying themselves, even when you take the fact that they’ve paid good money to see a play starring Tommie into account?

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 3/31/11

Ha ha, that Elviney’s the real death panel, amiright? No, seriously, I think she’s taking him somewhere secluded to beat him to death with that enormous skillet.

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Mark Trail, 3/30/11

I’ll say this for Mark Trail: he makes no pretense of being acquainted with hip narcotics lingo, thus sparing him any rock vs. dope embarrassments. No, those squarish bales are just drugs of some kind, and that’s all he needs to know. Now he’s going to set it all on fire, which should be awesomely hilarious. Only Mark will avoid the contact high, by sheer force of rectitude.

Mary Worth, 3/30/11

“More to the point, how much longer are you going to be masturbating to my ‘men’s workout’ plausible-deniability porno mags? Damn it, I need those! They’re all I’ve got! You know Mary won’t let me use the Internet!”

Gil Thorp, 3/30/11

It’s come to our attention that nobody cares about the folksinger girl plot, and for some reason we feel obligated to do a musical plot, so here, here’s the exact same Slim Chance plot that happened last spring. Did you find that one tiresome after a few months? Well, too bad, it’s going to happen again.