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Gasoline Alley, 5/26/08

Can I confide to you that I actually find the concept of a heavily-accented, curly-mustachioed French pitchcat named “Chef Meowrice” pretty funny, if deranged? I’m guessing the name is supposed to be a pun on famous French-accent-haver Maurice Chevalier. However, I am firmly, firmly opposed to “Tabby Wynette,” mostly because she should be be belting out country tunes full of hard-earned sadness and loss, rather than just standing around in some kind of creepy cat S&M get-up and cozying up to some Frenchie for pulverized mouse bits.

Popeye, 5/26/08

In other news, Popeye has come ’round again to Olive Oyl’s suicide, as is its wont.

Apartment 3-G, 5/26/08

Meanwhile, across the world in Tibet, we’ve been given a respite from Alan’s zany drug antics. Eric and Tenzin have been making the long trudge to Lhasa on foot, apparently unaware that you can actually take the train there now. You can tell that they’ve been on a long journey because Eric has grown a neatly trimmed beard, while Tenzin has become a blond-haired Caucasian. Seeing the fabled city in the distance, Eric muses that it would have been better for the place to have been destroyed and all its people killed than to have any contact with modernity.

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Slylock Fox, 5/25/08

At last, Count Weirdly has hit upon a sinister plan that’s actually sinister, not just irritating: dropping Max and a bevy of decoy robo-Maxes out of the bomb bay of his WeirdlyJet! I don’t even want to imagine the dumber-vs.-dumbest adventure that must have led up to Max’s capture. Fortunately, Weirdly has forgotten the tails on his Maxdroids, because otherwise they are identical to the real thing in every respect — including their no doubt helpless mewling as they plummet to their deaths, and bowler hats that remain firmly in place, in violation of the laws of physics.

The sickest part, for me, is the vulture sitting on the WeirdlyJet’s nose, presumably waiting for Max to hit the ground with a splat so he can enjoy some lunch.

Meanwhile, over in the Six Differences, I like the happy expression on the frog’s face, as he silently salutes his crocodile brother, striking a blow for cold-blooded creatures against their mammalian oppressors.

Blondie, 5/25/08

I’m kind of charmed by Dagwood’s terrified retreat that finally leaves him standing in the empty bathtub, his last place of refuge (occasional incursions from his boss notwithstanding). I also like the fact that Daisy has followed the bickering couple upstairs, wearing a terrified expression that says “Why are male-person-who-feeds-me and female-person-who-feeds-me fighting? Why? Will this affect the frequency with which I’m fed?”

Dennis the Menace, 5/25/08

Gee, when it comes to questions about his past military service, Mr. Wilson seems to be protesting a little too much, complete with his trademarked creepy single bead of sweat. Is it possible that this whole “flat feet” story is just a front (after all, he did walk a mail route for thirty years) and that George Wilson was just too much of a coward to fight the Nazis/the Hun/the Spanish Menace/however the hell old he’s supposed to be?

Sally Forth, 5/25/08

My, the shape of Ted’s squirt gun certainly is … suggestive.

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Mark Trail, 5/24/08

Wait, sneaking it in? But … but that’s a medicinal puppy!

As usual, there’s so much wrong happening in this Mark Trail storyline denouement that it makes my little brain hurt. First of all, we’ve seen no indication that Mark has done anything about the sinister dognappers other than punch one of them. Despite what a casual reading of this strip may lead you to believe, Mark is not an officer of the law, and his fists are not legally sanctioned punishments for crimes. Are we seriously to believe that the Bonnie and Clyde of pet-stealing, having discovered how darn easy it is make money through from softhearted dog owners through their nefarious machinations, are just going to give it up because of a little chin music from Mark? Surely they’re just going to head over to another town and start anew! The least Mark could have done is liberate their female dog, who is an unwitting accomplice to their crimes and little better than a sex slave.

Then there’s the puppy-concealment going on in panel three. At least Mark isn’t just brazenly walking into a hospital with a bear, as he did during the Buck and Molly storyline, but since we can see clearly that Mark has washboard abs and a relatively form-fitting shirt, surely there will be someone observant enough to notice the squirming, mewling lump on our hero’s abdomen. I also question whether telling a happy, playful puppy in English to be quiet will really be all that effective. Hopefully Mark will be smart enough not to resort to more drastic measures; if you think little Madeline is sad now, wait until Mark shows her the puppy that he accidentally smothered.

Herb and Jamaal, 5/24/08

Herb and Jamaal’s Hip Young Clergyman With An Earring was introduced a while back as an assistant to Rev. Croom, sent by the higher-ups to try to keep church relevant to the youth of today. Today we see that he’s also taken on the role of Christianity’s enforcer, popping out of nowhere whenever some weirdo religion is mentioned. “Hey, you know who’s a wise spiritual leader? Jesus. Now get yourselves to church, you hell-bound hippies.”

Gil Thorp, 5/24/08

Boy, Branden and Elmer sure are looking cozy for two totally-not-at-all-dating BFFs. With the music on the boom box right and the light from the Chinese lanterns low at Maureen’s party, I predict two words (in English) that will end up solving Elmer’s little immigration status problem: shotgun wedding.

Panel from Mary Worth, 5/24/08

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA