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Blondie, 1/23/09

I have to admit that I’m so charmed by Dagwood’s stunningly bizarre parking spot sign that I’m willing to forgive the fact that it completely ignores his long-established carpool. Not only does it declare his love for impossibly large sandwiches to the literate and illiterate alike, it also fails to indicate in any way that the parking spot it sits in front of is reserved for anyone in particular. Still, I’d be hesitant to park there, as it’s clearly the work of a madman. An extremely hungry madman.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 1/23/09

Whereas the gals, they’re talking about the fellers they met in their youth once, the ones that weren’t their cousins! Haw haw!

This strip seems to indicate that the book Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus would do well in this community, if not for the fact that speaking aloud the names of the terrifying demon-stars that move through the sky will get you burned at the stake there. The strip also seems to promise a series of gags lifted entirely from episodes of An Evening At The Improv circa 1989, such as the different driving habits of black dudes and white dudes and the unpalatability of airline food, but mention of flying machines and non-whites will also get you burned at the stake.

Beetle Bailey, 1/23/09

Gosh, Sarge, I’m not sure happy is how your stomach will feel about a box of matzo, a bowl of eggs, and a bottle of soy sauce.

Herb and Jamaal, 1/23/09

Say, remember when Herb and Jamaal ran this exact same strip two months ago? Remember how it wasn’t funny then, either?

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Marvin, 1/22/09

If there’s one thing that Marvin does well repeatedly, it’s come up with some labor-saving gimmick joke that can serve as a template for multiple days worth of material. We all remember the week of pure horror that was “Belly Laffs,” in which each new day proved just how not-funny a joke about women gaining weight when they’re pregnant can get. If there’s anything to console us during this cryspace.com nightmare, it’s that we started in the middle of the week, which means that we have at most two more days of this left.

Also, as a red-headed American, I resent the implication that the lady gingers need to bill themselves as blondes in order to increase their sex appeal. Nobody can dispute the attractiveness of redheads, people! And as a human being with a shred of decency, I am disgusted by the idea of a baby making her profile sexy, what the hell, this is monstrous beyond description.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 1/22/09

Little Sarah has always been a precocious child, and that, combined with the affluent upbringing her father’s medical practice has provided, may be bringing her down a very dark path, as she seems extremely intrigued by the prospect of joining this wizened alcoholic aristocrat in hunting a wily urchin for sport. “Come, child, let me tell you about the thrills of the most dangerous game!”

Apartment 3-G, 1/22/09

Some people have doubted whether Margo is really as awe-inspiring and terrifying as all that. All I can say is that if any roommate of mine had left me a list of imperative mood verbs like the one seen here, I’d respond less with a resigned sigh and more with a string of obscenities. Either Margo really can kill with her mind, or the surreptitious, never-talked-about sex must be amazing.

Marmaduke, 1/22/09

“Howling at the moon,” ha! Marmaduke is actually summoning his demonic Master to appear and accept the blood sacrifice of these two innocents. Naturally, Marmaduke will carry out this sacrifice himself.

Momma, 1/22/09

Ha ha, Momma called her daughter a tramp! A tramp wearing a tiny, tiny lampshade as a hat.

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Apartment 3-G, 1/21/09

As a native Buffalonian, I resent Margo’s implication that “upstate” is a great place to go bury bodies or answering machines with terrifying messages or whatever else she’s planning to dispose of out there. (Yes, Buffalo is technically Western New York, not Upstate New York, but devout Manhattanites use “upstate” as a blanket term for anything north of Columbia University, and if you need any confirmation of Margo’s devotion, just look at how resentful she is at the very thought of letting the sun go down on her in Schenectady or wherever.) Does she think that the whole state outside of her precious Five Boroughs consists of nothing but decaying, abandoned industrial sites, or vast stretches of barren wasteland punctuated by the occasional slowly collapsing barn, where she can just hide evidence of criminal wrongdoing at will? I mean, she’d be right, but that doesn’t mean that we want snooty urbanites with their fancy New York City corpses messing up all the good hiding spots.

Herb and Jamaal, 1/21/09

Usually Herb and Jamaal’s primary mission is to suck all the fun and enjoyment out of the English language by making it as bland and nonspecific as possible, but I really like this new euphemism for masturbation that it’s introduced today. “I spent the evening in, ‘dating my shadow,’ if you know what I mean.”

Marvin, 1/21/09

Good lord, as if rendezvousing in person with someone you first met online wasn’t already fraught enough, can you imagine if you meet some guy you’ve been chatting with and are sort of excited about, and he turns out to be a literal, actual baby? Especially if he were a loathsome, hateful baby, like Marvin?

Spider-Man, 1/21/09

Spider-Man, well aware of his intellectual limitations, is right to ! in the final panel. If the little boy’s statement is correct, it’s a wonder that Batman can even figure out how to chew.