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Slylock Fox, 5/4/08

Hey, look, everybody! Cassanda Cat’s back up to her naughty tricks again! The crimes perpetrated in Slylock Fox are generally pretty small-time, but stealing a jar full of pennies from a rabbit seems particularly petty, the sort of thing one might do just to mess with someone, or perhaps to attract the attention of a certain law enforcement officer. The fact that she’s just dumping her ill-gotten gains into a well brings her contempt for the stolen property into nice focus.

(And hey! Don’t forget that you can buy Cassandra Cat stuff from the Comics Curmudgeon store!)

I also think the picture up top, with the cat and dog tending the poor toothachy kid, is very sweet. (Note: Domestic pets are not a substitute for professional dental care.)

Panel from Luann, 5/4/08

Today we learn that Luann’s dad has the same sweet little pet nickname for her mom that the British had for the Germans during World War I. I’m sure when they get amorous, she puts on one of those helmets with the big spikes on top and he begs her to “execute the Schlieffen Plan,” if you know what I mean, and I think you do.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 5/4/08

“Hello, we’re the creative team behind Rex Morgan, M.D.! It’s come to our attention that some of you find action-packed plots about blackmail, escaped prisoners, and flesh-eating bacteria to be ‘boring’! Well, what if you were able to enjoy those same plots … but they involved sexy people in their underwear? America, get ready for Rex Morgan, M.N.! The ‘M.N.’ stands for ‘mostly naked!'”

Panel from Apartment 3-G, 5/4/08

Lately, the Sunday Apartment 3-G strips have been even more obvious rehashes of the previous week than usual, leaving me virtually no reason to ever comment on them. This panel from today’s installment caught my eye, however, when you consider its parallel from Saturday’s strip:

It’s very sad that a clean-living young man such as myself has to lecture the comics industry on this point, but: DRUG LINGO IS NOT INTERCHANGEABLE. Also, it has evolved somewhat since 1953. Please do a minimum amount of Internet research before attempting to deploy “street” talk in your comic. You’ll be glad you did.

For Better Or For Worse, 5/4/08

Ha! It’s funny because Michael hates his children, and hopes that if he ignores them they’ll go away! The second and third panels of the second row are particularly instructive; I defy you to find anyone, even among touch-typists, who types with their eyes closed. He’s obviously just hammering away at the keyboard churning out nonsense to drown out his daughter’s desperate pleas for attention.

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First, on Friday I got a mysterious box in the mail. What could it be? A bomb? A container of anthrax? None of these, it turned out! Instead, it was fabulous commemorative Family Circus plate from faithful reader Krazy Kat!

The lovable Keane Kids are rolling around in the leftover detritus of an orgy of Christmas consumption, while their parents are passed out exhausted on the couch, hoping that at least one of them will choke to death on a small toy part so that there’ll be less shopping to do next year. Thanks, Krazy Kat!

(By the way, does anyone know if you can actually eat off these commemorative plate dealies? I’ve heard a rumor that the paint on them is often lead or something equally unpleasant.)

Also! Faithful reader Harold, maker of several fonts, has developed one based on the lettering of former Gil Thorp artist Frank McLaughlin! Behold, Ohmigosh! Perhaps the new artist can swap it in for Comic Sans? It can be yours for a mere $30!

Also also! Faithful reader KT has completed his Comics Curmudgeon Get-Together cartoon diary. There are photos too!

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Phantom, 5/3/08

Could the JUNGLE PATROL’s longstanding no-yucky-girls-allowed policy have been based on sound policy, not mere prejudice? The men of the Jungle Patrol have for centuries cheerfully taken orders without question from a mysterious figure that they never see and who may not even exist; but these two dames have been Jungle Patrolpersons for less than a week and they’re already determined to suss out his identity — not because they find the idea of a faceless, nameless superior officer creepy and weird, of course, but because they want to have sex with him. Kay and Hawa have been yammering on in this vein for several days now, and I’ve been wondering how their tight-knit friendship would survive when the Unknown Commander has to choose only one of them to be his Unknown Commandress, but today we learn that obviously the choice will be based on racial grounds. It’s too bad the real U.C. isn’t Chinese or something, just because it would be fun to watch that blow their minds.

Apartment 3-G, 5/3/08

Thanks to the glory and pageantry of NetFlix, my wife and I tore through all five seasons of The Wire a few months ago, but this Apartment 3-G makes me realize that I still don’t fully understand the economics of the drug trade. Will Jones be pleased when he realizes that Alan is redistributing his dope, happy to move up the ladder from street-level dealer to wholesaler? Or will he conclude that the profits Alan is reaping by selling smack to desperate floozies are rightfully his own, and decide to shoot the hapless artist in the back of the head and leave his body to rot in a vacant somewhere?

The stakes would be much higher if everyone involved weren’t morons. I love Jones’s rapt expression in panel two. “Whoah — that’ll buy a lotta dope! Now where I could I find some … oh, wait, I have some right here! Turns out I don’t need your money after all, Alan.”

Dick Tracy, 5/3/08

Dick Tracy’s contempt for Deformed-Americans has never been more obvious. Hey, Liz, your “knight in shining armor” lost his gun, then stood around aimlessly in that shining armor until somebody else shot the bad guy. Your real savior was Dab Stract, who has the added bonus of not being married (I’m assuming). Go on, plant a wet one his lumpy, malformed cheek. He’s earned it!

Gasoline Alley, 5/3/08

His two-timing having been revealed to the congregation, Sturdivant is about to be dragged out of the church by the bride’s hobo relatives and stabbed to death, or possibly sodomized. Score another one for good ol’ fashioned frontier justice!