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Argh, those Sunday strips are so big! Let’s take them on in bite-sized chunks.

Apartment 3-G, 10/28/07

Yes, Ruby, and if your mad cosmetological skills don’t land you a hairdressing job, your mad unbearably-white-deployment-of-verging-on-outdated-slang skills should land you a role in that new off-Broadway production, Diff’rent Strokes: The Musical.

Panel from Beetle Bailey, 10/28/07

“I wish you got more to give me, Beetle. I wish you would just turn around and say ‘I love you, Sarge,’ never mind the consequences. But you don’t got the guts. So I’ll just stand here with my hand on your shoulder, your tight-football-pants-clad butt just inches from my crotch, for a few minutes. That’s all I’ve got. I wish I got more.”

Portion of the Family Circus, 10/28/07

I’m not sure which is more disturbing: the thought that daddy’s work pants are tattered and stained with cut-rate gin and urine, or the thought that daddy’s work pants are bright pink and end just below the bottom of his butt cheeks.

Panel from Mark Trail, 10/28/07

“Normal humans have nothing to fear from our friends the owls! However, horrible mutants — like this freakish, big-foreheaded specimen here — will be subject to vicious, merciless owl attacks. Remember, owls are your town’s first line of defense against mutant incursions!”

Panel from Mary Worth, 10/28/07

I guess those motion lines around Dr. Jeff’s head are supposed to indicate that he’s taking a deep, hearty quaff of whatever hard liquor he’s surreptitiously poured into his coffee mug, but they look more like bobble lines of shock and horror to me. Combined with his wide eyes, I imagine he’s thinking, “Wait, it isn’t? God damn it, woman, you know that if my son’s involved in this stupid comic strip, I need to show up in it every once in a while as well. Why can’t the plots involve Chinbeard and his trophy wife for once? Who are they sleeping with to get out of their contractually mandated number of appearances in this nightmare?”

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Apartment 3-G, 10/27/07

“Yeah, Eric, I’m in kind of a smack … er, spot! Could I have an advance on my junk … er, I mean, on my pay? I just moved into a new apartment and I need to buy sweet, sweet heroin to inject into my veins … uh, that is, some new furniture! Yeah, that’s it, horse. I mean furniture.”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/27/07

“Look, Niki, let’s have an understanding. When I ask you to do something out here — no matter how weird, or wrong, or erotically charged and transgressive it may seem — please do it! Remember, I’m the doctor and you’re the kid who’s too dumb to avoid falling into a river, so obviously I know best.”

Marmaduke, 10/27/07

I am more grateful than I can describe that we’re seeing Marmaduke from the back here.

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Judge Parker, 10/26/07

Woo! At long last, something exciting is happening in Judge Parker! Exciting and … completely nonsensical, but what the hell. I’m pretty sure that the reason I haven’t been able to follow the business and legal machinations of this plot is because they’re complete twaddle, as is Rusty Duncan’s incomprehensible Sam-lust. You might as well get all hot and bothered (and stupidly risk your high-powered lawyer career) over a particularly handsome slab of wood for all the satisfaction you’ll get out of it. One hopes that this isn’t a tiresome “lady professionals lose their mind over a hot hunky man” plot but rather part of some wheels-within-wheels intrigue, with hidden cameras ready to put this cute little scene all over the Internet. The handkerchief is there to collect a bit of Sam’s blood that will spurt from the gashes she’s about to tear in his ear; this will be useful for later DNA testing to prove that the photos depict her kissing the real Sam and not a life-sized Sam mannequin (since it would obviously be hard to tell otherwise).

Mary Worth, 10/26/07

I guess Vera’s line about “see[ing] the stars at night” is supposed to be some kind of reference to their first starlit make-out session,” but it’s pretty much impossible to interpret it as anything other than “Drew brought me to levels of physical pleasure that Von could never reach.” And maybe it’s me, but I really don’t think you should be talking to Mary Worth about the quality and quantity of your orgasms. It just seems wrong.

Archie, 10/26/07

Not that I’m a big expert on the minutiae of Archie characters’ inner lives or anything, but in my experience the Coach Kleats mainly doesn’t express any emotion other than numb-eyed acceptance of the wackiness and incompetence surrounding him. Thus, his Bob Knight-style tirade at a reporter’s legitimate (if ludicrously vague) question is kind of surprising. Presumably he’s desperately trying to prevent the press (and the readers) from noticing whatever it is number 7 is about to do to number 11 in the first panel.

Gil Thorp, 10/26/07

Typically, Milford teams are good enough to make the playdowns (AND YES THEY CALL THEM “PLAYDOWNS” IN GIL THORP DON’T ASK ME WHY ALL RIGHT?), but then inevitably flop in the first or second round. It’s good to see this year’s football squad breaking that mold by descending into total incompetence. Pretty soon a desperate and/or bored Gil will put in the team’s fourth-string quarterback: the kid with one leg. The only sad part is that Marty Moon is apparently too drunk or not drunk enough to launch into the “Fire Gil” campaign that he usually gets rolling at the first sign of trouble in the Milford Athletic department.

Panel one makes it clear that Coach Kaz is still battling his troubling addiction to cosmetic surgery.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 10/26/07

CEO J.P. Honcho testifies in Congress against stricter environmental laws:

“Increased regulations make American factories uncompetitive … not needed … voluntary improvements are the way … our plants are perfectly safe … clean-burning fuel … wouldn’t hurt a fly …”

So when he builds his sprawling mansion with his eight-digit bonus check, does he put it downwind from his own factory? Oh, dear reader, need you ask?

“Somethin’ about the country air … so fresh and clean … sure it’s far from the plant, but it’s worth it for the ol’ lung-quality … ahhhh …”