Comment of the Week

After all the other 'Ed doing things nobody visiting NYC would' entries, I have to acknowledge today's strip for verisimilitude: Only a tourist would go to Washington Square Park to buy pot.

ValdVin

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Far be it from this blog to neglect one of its core missions: monitoring the glacial progress of legacy soap strips, so you don’t have to. Because believe me, you don’t want to! Let’s dive right in:

Apartment 3-G, 4/15/09

In Apartment 3-G, aimless maniac Doc Joe rushes to rekidnap his children after leaving them in Tommie’s care. But Doc Joe is confused: Tommie‘s not the dope — that’s LuAnn! Tommie is the pushover. You’d think somebody who looks like everybody else would see the differences — hell, they’re color-coded for you! At least nobody mixes up Margo. Not more than once, anyway.

As for Tommie’s logic in panels two and three: “Joe will be pleased I’ve surrendered his children to the vicious harpy who calls him a rat and warns me to lock the door. Oh, listen — here he is now!” Ha ha — what a dope!

Mary Worth, 4/15/09

But has there ever been a dope like Adrian? In the space of a few days, she learns some guy she met on a Santa Royale Fan Site:

  1. claims to be a victim of identity theft
  2. claims to have been bilked by a crooked partner
  3. can’t make good on his ostentatious promise to her father
  4. claims to have been laid off from his long-time flashy job
  5. claims to have a sister in hock to the Mob
  6. presses her to wire fifty large to said sister
  7. never really had that flashy job anyway.

“B – b – but he calls me ‘Queenie'”!

Judge Parker, 4/15/09

In Judge Parker, we’re spending the week buffing the reputations of Rocky Ledge and Godiva Danube: it’s only Wednesday, and already the couple could elbow aside Venerable John Henry Newman in the canonization line. Good lookers, green energy entrepreneurs, economic saviors of Parkerville, with geeky names, six adopted children, and success in their chosen careers — plus supporters of the troops and plain ol’ rural folk to boot! Farmin’ folk! Boy Howdy!

“Wussat, Bru? Another Nobel Prize? Sheee-it! Whut’s thiss’n for? Litrichur? Bodacious! Cain’t even spell it, and now I are one! Throw it on the dang pile with Peace and Economics, and pop me anuther cold one, woncha darlin’ — NASCAR‘s on!”


Drăguţ vreme, everybody!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Piranha Club, 4/14/09

Mallard Fillmore meets Momma, and may God have mercy on us all.

Crankshaft, 4/14/09

Crankshaft is an Illiterate Moron meets Afterschool Special, and meh — what else is new?

Mark Trail, 4/14/09

Jack Elrod famously draws animals with far more care and detail than he does humans. So we can only assume that panel-three Rusty here has begun his horrifying transformation into Squirrel-Squirt, or Beaver-Boy, or some damn thing.

Funky Winkerbean, 4/14/09

Les “Ask Me About My Dead Wife” Moore utters those words every woman longs to hear, as his paramour’s rival wonders what scope she can afford for her Mauser SR-93. Oh, and good luck getting rid of those tickets on Stub Hub, honey.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Luann, 4/13/09

After a week of Gunther “Clueless Doofus” Berger and Luann “Woo Me!” DeGroot, we’re back at last to Brad “Clueless Doofus” DeGroot and Toni “Woo Me!” Daytona. This strip sure does know how to mix it up! You’ve got to admire how Brad slips in that a) this invitation is for breakfast only, so there will be no squicky sex going on, and b) TJ will be there, so the wall-to-wall squickiness will have nothing to do with sex.

Shoe, 4/13/09

Pluggers, lacking only the good taste, restraint, and simple human compassion.

Slylock Fox, 4/13/09

Ah, Casa Shrew, just as we’d imagined it. Looks like Sly will be rethinking this part-time gig as building inspector, as soon as he takes a moment to hurl.

And, in other news . . .

Garfield, 4/13/09

Hmm. Garfield minus Garfield, with Garfield. Not quite clear where this is headed.

Dick Tracy, 4/13/09

. . . and a big hand for new Dick Tracy artist Jim Brozman — just like the one he gave us in panel three there.

— Uncle Lumpy