Post Content

Apartment 3-G, 8/24/07

“But if you won’t have dinner with me, I swear to God it’s all you’ll hear about for the next six months. Choose wisely.”

Gasoline Alley, 8/24/07

His elaborate meteorite scheme having failed to rid his neighborhood of African-American youth, Slim resorts to Plan B: Killing and eating them.

Judge Parker, 8/24/07

If Judge Parker went in for dramatic NEXT! boxes like Spider-Man and the Phantom, this strip could have one that read “NEXT! Render unto Caesar!” Or it could just play to its strengths and say “NEXT! More of Trudi’s ass!”

Pluggers, 8/24/07

Pluggers are a danger to good, honest citizens, and our weak-kneed liberal court system can’t protect us from them. Vigilante justice is the only answer.

Oh! Also, faithful reader Dub Not Dubya wants you to know that she got that picture of the Ziggyfish that I put up yesterday from this Website, which you should visit if you like pictures of odd-looking animals.

Also also! Chicago-area readers! Would you like to help faithful reader Dingo turn his talent for song parody into a free trip to Austria? You bet you do! Click here for details, and yell loudly!

Post Content

Ziggy, 8/23/07

Ziggy always looks depressed, but he’s got a particularly traumatized expression on his weird, mushy face today. He’s sitting in that chair with a death grip on his little hat and a thousand-mile stare like he’s just received some terrible, terrible news. I’m not exactly sure what product or service brings one to the “Family Tree Genealogy” store/office/otherwise featureless room where a guy sits behind a desk; presumably you pay them money and they look up the same stuff on the Internet that you could have found for free in ten minutes if you weren’t a moron. Anyway, getting back to the mysterious little drama here, obviously Ziggy’s just been given some terrible news about his family, though I’d be hard-pressed to come up with what exactly a genealogist could say that would get you as worked up as our lovable loser is here. “Hmm, now where did I put your file … ah, here it is, Ziggy Hitler! Well, I have some interesting news about those European relatives…”

Apropos of nothing except that it’s simultaneously funny and horrifying, faithful reader Dub Not Dubya sent me this picture of a blobfish, which really more accurately should be called a Ziggyfish.

Spider-Man, 8/23/07

So, after robbing a bank, the Shocker is literally just standing around patiently surrounded by piles of money, waiting for the press to arrive, putting his fists on his hips so as to look as confidently villainous as he can once the cameras capture him. Of course, the press consists of erstwhile lovers J. Jonah Jameson and whatshername, the Romulan chick who now has a crush on Spider-Man; any supervillany is sure to be outshone by their squabbling. The only way Spider-Man can find out about all this is if he does the one thing most ingrained in his nature, but which he has sworn not to do: turn on the television. I think it’s safe to say that Spider-Man has finally given up and embraced camp.

Luann, 8/23/07

Oh, I do not like the look on TJ’s face in panel three. It’s one of discomfort, just starting to edge into outright pain. Is there a sharp, broken spring burrowing into someplace tender? Has Brad not actually sat in the chair? Did he make TJ his first test subject in an act of passive-aggressive revenge for the years the Teej has spent undermining his life?

Actually, now that I look at it again, it could just be flat-out rage. If there’s one thing TJ hates, it’s uncomfortable chairs. Don’t you dare offer him anything less than cushy … if you know what’s good for you.

For Better Or For Worse, 8/23/07

Desperate to make Elizabeth stop talking about Anthony — as any decent, normal person would be — Candace finally just changes the subject to herself in panel four.

The whole “Thérèse is an awful bitch” storyline is somewhat undermined by the fact that Anthony does, in fact, look like a fool in panel two. Nice jams, dude! Was 2003 the equivalent of 1988 in metric Canadian years?

Post Content

Gil Thorp, 8/22/07

So, well, uh, I guess my hopes that this might be interesting, or make any damn sense at all, have pretty much been dashed at this point. Way to hold up under pressure there, Cliff. “I didn’t do it!” “We followed you!” “Aw, hell.” I am pretty impressed by Gail’s look of unbridled rage there in panel three. You do not want to get on the wrong side of the rock and roll Carole King, I tell you what. I guess the real lesson here is that shady dudes with Fu Manchu mustaches and a record of drug offenses are actually pretty cool guys! They sure wouldn’t leave passive-aggressive notes scattered around; they’d just insult you to your face.

(But it still doesn’t add up! With the money he earned touring, Cliff was able to buy a van! A van!)

Mark Trail, 8/22/07

Meanwhile, smack dab in the middle of the future site of the Lost Forest Hot Topic, Homer the friendly construction worker is about to take a stand to protect some baby ducks from the ravenous jaws of your so-called “progress.” It should come as no surprise that our duck-loving bulldozer operator is clean-shaven, while the stench of evil rising from his coworker is as thick as his no doubt matted beard. Fortunately, Mark Trail will soon be on the scene to explain what he learned from Sam Hill: once the developers finish draining the wetlands, birds won’t want to lay their eggs there anymore, and the problem is solved!

Momma, 8/22/07

The following sentence is one that I never, ever wanted to write, but I suppose in retrospect it was inevitable, so here goes: The frank sexuality in today’s Momma is deeply disturbing to me. It’s already been implied that Francis fancies himself a ladies man, much to Momma’s disgust. Presumably she assumes (no doubt with good reason) that Francis’s inability to hold down gainful employment probably indicates that he’s unable to operate a prophylactic, and that she has dozens of bastard grandchildren all over town. You’d think she’d be a little excited about the prospect: grandkids are usually idée fixe #1 of the Mommas of the world; she’s got none to brag about down at the senior center, other than little Chucky, who hasn’t appeared since his fateful trip to the bar with Francis, when he was presumably traded for beer.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 8/22/07

I’m not going to touch the political content of today’s TDIET (“Public education: A necessary institution in an equitable society, or an insatiable money pit?”). Instead, I’m going to outline the lottery-themed TDIET I’d like to see:

Governor Honcho calls a press conference to crow when he busts up Vito’s little numbers racket…

(“Step right in, gentlemen! Why not put a bit of scratch on 17 red? Only 35-to-1 odds! You could … aw, cheese it! The fuzz!”)

…but then who d’ya see on TV trying to get you to put a buck on the Big Payoff Lottery Scratch-Off? Do you have to ask? I don’t think so!

(“Million-to-one odds … and you could be that one! Why not cash your Social Security check to buy more? Every dime goes to education! Etc … etc …”)

Apartment 3-G, 8/22/07

OK, now they’re just fucking with us, with the hair.