Post Content

Blondie, 2/15/08

I suppose by “old college sweatshirt” Dagwood means “sweatshirt I wore when I was in college,” but when I think “college sweatshirt” I would visualize a sweatshirt that has, you know, a college’s logo or mascot on it, or at least its name. Then again, Dagwood went to college during the Harding Administration, when there were probably only about ten or twelve active universities in the United States, so maybe the colors were enough. Back then, the mere sight of a blue and black garment let you know that you were in the presence of a graduate of Dagwood’s esteemed alma mater. I’m sure he has many fond memories of rooting on The Stripes on the base-ball field.

Gil Thorp, 2/15/08

You might recall that after the famed self-clubbing incident of early 2007, Tyler was banished to intensive psychiatric treatment. Obviously it worked like gangbusters. He’s gone all season without bludgeoning himself; and, what’s more, thanks to his new self-knowledge, he’s gained an almost uncanny insight into how the human psyche works. It’s almost as if he’s able to project himself out of his spit-curled head and into Andrew Gregory’s slightly longer spit-curled head. Gil and Kaz will be thankful for his help in this case, obviously, but may grow increasingly nervous about just what kind of mind-reading monster they’ve created.

Lockhorns, 2/15/08

The Lockhorns schtick is generally not difficult to wrap one’s head around — they hate each other, you see — so the occasional panel composed of complete nonsense is all the more surprising. Who exactly is Leroy playing chess against? Why are all the pieces the same color? Why does Loretta’s “sleepy eyes” face look exactly like her “black eyes from getting in a car wreck” face? And how does it all fit in with their endless attempts to destroy one another, as everything inevitably does?

Mark Trail, 2/15/08

This may be the greatest ever Mark Trail that doesn’t actually feature Mark punching anybody. At last, we get to see a bear dish out the punishment and hostility, though alas some kind of syndicate rule seems to forbid the depiction of the Neanderthal henchman being eviscerated, so we instead need to settle for the sight of him fleeing in terror unrealistically quickly. I do like the fact that the widow Malone seems to merely stand around arching her eyebrows sexily while her muscle is nearly mauled. “Sorry, the bullets in this rifle are only for the elimination of one Mark Trail, not for some great furry beast. Perhaps you should have made use of your own weapon rather than casting it aside and screaming ‘AHHHH..’, you bearded cretin!”

Marvin, 2/15/08

OK, Marvin, that’s … that’s enough with the ass jokes. For serious now.

Post Content

Marvin, 2/14/08

It’s been a singularly uninspiring day in the comics, one in which the only thing I can find worthy of mention is Marvin. The similar concerns of folks on either end of life’s demographic bell curve demonstrate why this strip years ago chose to branch out from “babies thought balloon the darndest things about crapping in their pants” to “babies and old people and dogs are equally dyspeptic and unfunny when they talk and/or thought balloon about things that most people find distasteful.” Happy Valentine’s Day, everybody!

Post Content

Apartment 3-G, 2/13/08

Yes, what must he think of you, Lu Ann? Since last we saw your art opening was actually in progress, and “meanwhile” you’re moping around Apartment 3-G, I’d imagine that he’s thinking something like this:

“God damn it, where is that moron? It’s not like these profoundly mediocre fern paintings are going to fly off the walls by themselves; since Margo has gone out of her way to make the show all about Lu Ann and her ghostly inspiration, the least she can do is come down here and sell this crap. She’d better be wearing something low-cut, too, that can only help. I swear to God, I — hey, there’s my connection! Gotta run!”

For Better Or For Worse, 2/13/08

Amusing as it is to see toddler Elizabeth wandering around with a toilet on her head (all the better to prepare for a life of being crapped on by Anthony! Har har!), I’m even more tickled by Ellie’s opening sentence, which sort of implies that her mother worries that she in fact does not plan to potty-train her daughter, but will rather allow her to go through life urinating and defecating in her pants whenever the mood strikes. “We were going to train Lizzie, mom, but you saw what a jerk Michael turned into after we did it. I swear, it’s too bad Freud isn’t alive; he’d have a field day with what learning to poop in a bowl did to that kid’s personality. We figure a lifetime of changing diapers will be a small price to pay.”

Gil Thorp, 2/13/08

“…starts muscling Andrew Gregory…”

“A slick back-door cut…”

“…shakes loose underneath…”

You know, some days this stuff pretty much just writes itself.

Family Circus, 2/13/08

“There’s only one way to figure this out — I’m going to pee on his head!”

OK, that … that was probably unforgivable. But why did they draw Billy fumbling with his fly if they didn’t want me to make this joke, huh? Why? Why do you tempt me, O Family Circus?