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Mary Worth, 8/28/09

Is there anything worse than hearing Tobey natter on in barely coded terms about all the new sex positions she and Ian tried out in various dank castles across Scotland? Turns out there is, and it’s watching Dr. Jeff’s socially inept daughter make out with her ethics-challenged cop boyfriend, right there on the park bench where children can see it.

Momma, 8/28/09

Is there anything worse than Momma’s unsettlingly close relationship with her youngest son? Turns out there is, and it’s hearing her go on and on and on about how all these girls on the beaches today, showing so much skin, they’re just whores whores whores whores.

Family Circus, 8/28/09

Is there anything worse than seeing Jeffy’s pale, naked, fleshy thighs? Turns out there isn’t, so please, please, Mommy Keane, I don’t know what the insane nonsense coming out of Jeffy’s mouth is supposed to mean, but just make soothing noises that will get him to put his pants back on, OK?

Hagar the Horrible, 8/28/09

Looks like another harsh winter in Scandinavia has our favorite band of Viking raiders on the edge of starvation! Good times.

WHAT? AGAIN?: Hey, everyone, we’re going off on a weekend getaway, this weekend, so you may have to wait until Monday for your weekend comics. Then again, it’s supposed to rain, so you may get glum rainy-day vacation blogging. ONLY TIME WILL TELL! Tell then, why not play some Mark Trail Bingo, as developed by faithful reader Aviatrix? Faithful readers spacemika and bats :[ even made boards!

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One Big Happy, 8/27/09

You might think that my favorite One Big Happy character would be Ruthie, standing as she does on the knife’s edge between adorable high-spirited child and wild-eyed maniac. But I’m actually pretty partial to Joe’s moments in the spotlight, as it’s easy to see the belligerent and unemployed 25-year-old in his future. I thoroughly enjoy his third-panel soliloquy in particular, with its casual use of “do me one” and “aw right” (let’s ignore for the moment the fact that “don’t poke my eye in the bouncy house” sounds positively filthy); and I love the fact that whatever adult that retreating back in panel one belongs to has completely checked out by the end of the comic, leaving Joe to angrily berate a plastic penguin.

Mary Worth, 8/27/09

My goodness, is this the first evidence we’ve had that Mary is not, in fact, omniscient? Mary seems to think that all Delilah did was wander around the sterile Chartersone grounds for a bit ruminating on how great it was to be married to the bland, emotionally absent Lawrence; she apparently knows nothing about Delilah’s visit to Charley’s terrifying sex lair. Is Mary not perhaps the all-seeing, all-controlling puppetmaster that she seems to be? Or is she simply leaving out the most exciting part of this story because she fears that Tobey, too, will be tempted to test her devotion to her bearish Scottish spouse by checking out her neighbor’s art … of a kind?

Gil Thorp, 8/27/09

Well, this Gil Thorp summer storyline got dulled up real fast, with rage-maddened stalker Marty DeJong instantly finding personal fulfillment in coaching poor children. But the second panel is pretty poignant, with Marty saying that striking someone out — something he’ll never do again, since he blew his arm out under “Coach” Thorp’s “care” — is the best feeling a human being can experience. Presumably after dropping Casper off at home, Marty will go quietly hang himself from a tree in the Thorps’ front yard; it’s the sort of thing that would devastate Gil, if Gil were the type of guy who cared about things.

Apartment 3-G, 8/27/09

You know, if Margo or even Lu Ann were to tell some dapper gentleman “I want to thank you for last night,” she would mean “I want to thank you for the new heights of physical pleasure we reached together last night.” But this is Tommie, so she means “Thanks for the subtle unpaid grief counseling you offered to my much more interesting roommate last night,” obviously.

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Mark Trail, 9/26/09

Well, at last we know that “fishing trip” was the activation code phrase that the cruel scientists at the secret government bioweapons lab implanted into the brain of the hideous genetically engineered test subject known only as “Rusty.” Upon hearing those syllables, every gland in his Frankenstein-like body begins pumping at full speed, his pupils dilate, his breath quickens, his muscles expand, and the killing begins. The poor down-on-their luck couple in panel three will have another few minutes to sadly brush their little girl’s hair before a blood-drenched Rusty bursts through the window, screaming “CAN SASSY COME WITH US” at the top of his lungs as he attempts to bite off all of their skin.

Blondie, 8/26/09

Good lord, Blondie, are you trying to kill Dagwood? We all know he can maintain consciousness for only about six hours a day, with extended desk- and couch-based naps filling in the hours before his early bedtime and after his always-late morning awakening. Without that caffeine, his whole system might just shut down entirely. That shaking in the final panel is probably his body desperately trying to stay erect; in another few moments he’s just going to pass out right there in front of the water cooler.

Slylock Fox, 8/26/09

5) Rhinos are, like, totally baked, like, all the time. Answer — totally true, man!