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Mary Worth, 8/1/08

I’m sorry, did I sarcastically imply that yesterday’s strip, in which a restaurant bill was paid, was some sort of apex of boringness? That was before today, when Toby tried and failed to find a boring documentary and contemplated engaging in e-commerce. It’s not going to get any worse than this, right? Right? Please don’t test me!

Rex Morgan, M.D., 8/1/08

Oh, those extra-thorough county health officials! Naturally, when inspecting private home for contagious diseases, they also do a careful search for residue from illegal drugs! Because it’s a well known facts that drug-addicted degenerates are also diseased! I’m just sorry we didn’t get to see them give a urine test to a bunch of old gym mats.

Shoe, 8/1/08

So … Senator Belfry wants to take you up in him? Senator Belfry wants you to spend time in a basket dangling from his underside? This is the sort of joke that sounds like it’s supposed to be dirty, but dissolves into incoherence when you think about it for more than 15 seconds. The fact that I spend more than 15 seconds thinking about Shoe is probably one of my major life problems.

I do like the fact that the good Senator isn’t even bothering to sit next to his latest floozy. Because actually making conversation with your mistress is for those losers in the House.

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Mary Worth, 7/31/08

See, this is the sort of strip that people try to confront me with when I refuse to acknowledge that soap opera comics maybe might be a little bit boring. And yet how can you deny the tension that crackles out of these panels? Thrill as Mary and Toby half-heartedly argue over who will pick up the check! Shudder in anticipation as you try to imagine just what kind of paperwork awaits Mary back at her empty, lonely apartment! Gaze in wonder at a restaurant bill that contains only line items for “salad,” “stew,” and “dessert,” perhaps indicating that our ladies have lunched at the restaurant owned by Herb and Jamaal! It’s more exciting than taking a roller-coaster ride through a hail of gunfire while tweaking on crystal meth!

Gil Thorp, 7/31/08

It’s been repeatedly established that Elmer’s Spanish is no better than that of any other American-raised native English speaker who paid little or no attention in his high school Spanish class, so Kings manager Fran Riordan’s “let’s put all the brown guys in one hotel room” is mildly troubling. More troubling, though, is the gang sign he’s flashing in panel one, which may indicate that this so-called “minor-league baseball team” is really a violent organization dedicated to the sale of illegal narcotics. “WEST SIDE, BOYEEE!”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/31/08

Taken in isolation, the second panel looks like Rex asking if a concerned citizen’s cellar could be used as a makeshift quarantine ward where the MRSA-infected youth could be locked up until the crisis is solved, possibly by their deaths. But since this is Rex Morgan, M.D., we know from the larger context that he actually just likes having a lot of teenage boys available in one easy-to-find location.

Marmaduke, 7/31/08

Today’s Marmaduke is funnier — by which I mean that it’s actually kind of funny — if you read it in light of the theory that Marmaduke’s owner is actually Hitler on the lam. “Argh, electoral democracy is a degenerate failure! When will these dummkopfs learn that the Volk’s will is best expressed through a single party headed by a single, unquestioned leader?” This scenario still doesn’t explain why he’s only sitting three feet away from his television, though.

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Gil Thorp, 7/30/08

I can’t hold back any longer! Summer, my friends, is the season when Gil Thorp is traditionally freed from the shackles of its need to focus on boring high school athletics and truly finds its completely deranged natural level. 2006 brought us vicious fights between little girls and Ben Franklin, time-traveling golf grifter; last summer, we saw one-legged boxing follies and the glory and majesty of Coach Kaz, PI to the rock and roll Carole King. Thus, I’ve been patiently awaiting the end of the very special “Elmer gets deported” storyline so we can move on to the summer madness.

But now, as we’re only a few weeks away from the start of football practice, it’s becoming clear that there is no joy in Milford. Elmer’s springtime woes have just dragged right on into July, as he’s been recalled from his two-week Mexile to take a spot on the independent minor league Kalamazoo Kings. So instead of boring high school sports action, we’re getting boring vaguely professional sports action, and it’s boring. The faint hopes that were raised by my first read of panel two’s narration box — “It’s the Kings vs. the Chillicothe Pants” — were dashed by a closer inspection of the text. Even the red-hot lower back action in panel three can’t save this from snoresville.

For Better Or For Worse, 7/30/08

After the trivet incident, I’m hesitant to admit when I have to look up a word in the dictionary, but: mucilage? Really? Maybe the reason Lynn Johnston is retiring is because there will soon literally be no words left in the English language to pun upon.

“An adhesive solution” is no doubt the meaning intended here, but the dictionary built in to my computer has as the word’s first definition “a viscous secretion or bodily fluid,” so this actually may not be a pun at all. “What you’re feeling? That’s mucilage! Please, change me! My own daughter refused and said I was ‘gross!'”

Beetle Bailey, 7/30/08

Like the fact that he could see right up your skirt in panel two, for instance.