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Dennis the Menace, 6/13/07

I don’t pretend to keep track of what the kids are into these days in terms of whimsical and impractical forms of transportation — I’ve only just got my mind around the concept of “heelies.” That having been said, we do have a number of Dennis/Joey-aged kids in the neighborhood, and I have yet to see any of them bouncing down the street on the back of some sort of freakish pastel-colored fitness ball with a handle. Honestly, it looks like they’ve somehow lassoed and tamed the terrifying balloon-guard thingy from The Prisoner. File this under “menacing,” in the “surreal and disturbing” subcategory.

For Better Or For Worse, 6/13/07

All right, let me just say this: I love her! She’s short, she’s brassy, she’s not afraid to show off her dental work. In three panels she’s displayed more personality than Liz has in the past three years of moping, thought ballooning, fleeing from excitement, and getting cheated on. Who’s with me on Team Julia?

Of course, the first meeting between Anthony’s new love interest/employee and the Great White Goose That Broke His Heart is rife with underlying tension, and Julia, being a forward lass, is clearly up for some psychological gameswomanship. The question is, what not-so-subtle message is she trying to send to Liz with her little dental display?

• “See these teeth? Back off, bitch, or I will bite you.”
• “I’m putting my finger down my throat because you make me want to barf.”
• “Yeah, I can open my mouth this wide — and you wonder why Anthony’s smiling? Oh, I guess you don’t know what I’m talking about, since you’re so determined to avoid a cream dress at your wedding — your wedding that ain’t ever gonna happen!”
• “Yeah, he actually said ‘inconvenient tooth.’ Your whole family’s sense of humor sucks. Why couldn’t I have had his assistant the morsel work on me?”

Funky Winkerbean, 6/13/07

Since I am usually relentlessly derisive towards Funky Winkerbean’s relentless grimness, I feel obligated in the interest of fairness to mention that I’ve really been enjoying the “freaks and geeks go to the prom” storyline this week. At first I thought that Mopey Pete was moving in for a smooch in the first panel, but I think he’s just permanently slouched due to the crushing weight of his ennui.

Judge Parker, 6/13/07

Oh, man, I love Sophie: girl knows how to work that entirely unearned wealth. You might recall that the wacky Raju storyline was set in motion when she outsourced her homework to India. By the time she’s 21, she’ll either be presiding over a Spencer Farms-branded horsefeed import-export business and using her deep pockets to undercut her competitors, or snorting coke off of a Piet Mondrian and then beating the servants with a gold brick.

Luann, 6/13/07

I am trying with all my might to ignore the completely asinine current plot of Luann, but I cannot ignore the visuals in panel two. Why is Bernice wearing very dark and clownishly applied lipstick? Why is Luann suddenly sporting very long, probably fake eyelashes? Are they trying to show us the strip would look like if it were acted out by two cut-rate drag queens?

Because if they are, I’m honestly kind of intrigued. I’m not sure what it would take to get me interested in this storyline, but “having it acted out by two cut-rate drag queens” is probably on the list somewhere.

Mary Worth, 6/13/07

“Are you serious? After the last one, where I was ogled and belittled by the freaks who live here? Oh, hell no.”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 6/13/07

Look at that little smile in panel three — Hugh is doing some Creepster Math in his head. “Hot, emotionally vulnerable stepmom + hot-sounding June – annoying, meddling Pete = three-way! Looks like this little trip to America was worth my while after all!”

Zippy the Pinhead, 6/13/07

Zippy the Pinhead isn’t the groundbreaking strip it once was, but I’ll say this for it: when Zippy takes off his shirt, he’s got nipples, by God, unlike Mark Trail or Dagwood Bumstead. A pointless taboo broken!

While I’m perfectly comfortable seeing his dainty little nips, I have to say that his sock(?)-clad, Hagar the Horrible-esque, potato-shaped feet scare the hell out of me.

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For Better Or For Worse, 6/12/07

So, Mt. Foob has gotten sick of my cutting decision to refer to the Milquetoasty-Potential-Love-Interest-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named only as “The Mustache,” eh? They’ve gotten so sick of it that they’ve chosen to remove his mustache, eh? Well, two can play at this game! From now on, he’s … The Vast, Disconcerting, Fleshy Expanse Of Upper Lip! Or TV,D,FEOUL for short. I can go as far down this road as you want, Foobmeisters!

I am in fact 99 percent sure that’s supposed to be Anthony, though he looks weird enough that I can understand the doubts. The tip-off is the freckles, people. I’m assuming his suddenly non-droopy features are a product of FBOFW’s patented “Sexy-Cam” technique.

I just want to say that I love the collection of bizarre, misshapen faces in the second panel. Apparently they saved money on the tent by just getting married at a circus freak show.

(P.S. Remember that bit of Foobery from T Campbell I solicited artists for a couple of weeks ago? The results are here. Sadly, we may be too late after all…)

Momma, 6/12/07

I don’t pretend to fully understand what makes a fellow attractive, but I always thought of Tony Blair less as “cute” and more as “pasty and somewhat weasel-faced.” (He’s gotten better looking with age, I’ll admit.) Of course, Momma has long been slightly obsessed with the attractiveness of prime ministers, so maybe this is all of a part. Maybe, like her brother Francis, Mary Lou just has a thing for the head of a cabinet government elected by a parliament. She just can’t get worked up about the separation of powers we have going on the United States, and wants Tony Blair and the sexy, sexy Westminster system he represents to come over across the pond.

I realize I’m just pussyfooting around the larger issue here, which is that this cartoon makes no sense. But it makes so very much no sense that I’m somewhat in awe of even approaching the lack of sense that it makes.

Pluggers, 6/12/07

Oh, come on, Pluggers! See, there’s supposed to be a little wordplay going on here to justify your existence; otherwise, there’s nothing but passive-aggressive anti-elitism and the least sexy furries known to man. Here, I’ll help you out. “Pluggers don’t use twist ties … they just give the bag a good …” Did you guess what the last word should have been? Something that appeared earlier in the sentence? Hmmmm?

Archie, 6/12/07

Overheard in the year 2015: “Boy, Archie turned into Tom of Finland-style beefcake so gradually, we all hardly even noticed it. And they all used to be so wholesome…”

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So, yeah, it’s been way too long since I promised to unveil the winner of the Self-Bashing Tyler Contest! And here’s the honest truth on why: I hate having to pick! Honestly, I’m just touched and amazed that you all put so much creative energy into this whimsical contest. I’m always impressed by the creative energies swirling around this blog. In a real way, you are all winners. (You can see all the entrants here.)

But, to paraphrase Homer Simpson, in another, more accurate way, only one of you is the winner — specifically, the winner of Dean Booth’s totally fabu Tyler action figure. That winner will be revealed in a moment! But first, a couple of runners up.

Dr. Jeff definitely gets point for his cartoonification of the panel, complete with motion lines and narration box. He also wonderfully captures Tyler’s spit curl and vacant expression.

Kevin also managed to capture Tyler’s eerie blankness. And, with cunning use of photo-editing software, he managed to piece together real-world versions of the various components of the drawing to create a deeply alienating affect — not quite as alienating as Gil Thorp itself, but pretty close to it.

But the winner broke through what was portrayed in the drawing itself to show us not just what was on the page, but what was implied, as well: namely, blood. Lots and lots of blood.

Let’s review, in its entirety, the e-mail that accompanied this picture from Wally Lamb:

Dear Sir/Madame:

I won this contest fair and square. I didn’t do anything wrong. I never filed a police report. I never accused anyone. Everyone thinks I’m stupid, even Brynna. But I got one over on all of you!

Truer words have never been spoken, sir! May I add that I desperately covet the shirt? For your pains, Wally Lamb, you shall receive the Self-Clubbing Tyler action figure. Hopefully they will let you keep it in your room at the mental ward.