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Apartment 3-G, 11/28/07

Hmm, perhaps I was too hasty yesterday when I dismissed out of hand the idea that there might be some tension between the A3G narration boxes and the actual narrative. How else to explain panel one, in which we are told that our fearsome foursome are “on the way to the tavern” when in fact they are very obviously standing around in Apartment 3-G’s blandly decorated living room and not going anywhere? The only way they could be less going to the tavern is if they were out on the street walking away from the tavern, though that would be harder to convey in the limited panel space here.

On the other hand, the sudden transition from blinding white to inky black in the second panel is evocative of some kind of movement. Maybe the Professor has whipped up some advanced transporter device, and we’re seeing them walk through a hole in space-time to emerge safely on the tavern’s front steps without having to encounter Manhattan street riff-raff. Or maybe there’s just an entrance to a Prohibition-era secret passageway behind the girls’ kitchen cabinets that connects to every gin joint in town.

Dennis the Menace, 11/28/07

I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen Dennis with a look of obvious panic on his face; I guess it’s also the first time I’ve seen him with his pants down. I’ll stop going further down this incredibly inappropriate road because I mainly wonder how this can be worked into the increasingly awesome The Luck of Dennis St. Michel, Viscount Stokington. If you ever doubted that the combination of Dennis the Menace and Regency pastiche would be completely hilarious, this blog should put your mind at rest.

Mary Worth, 11/28/07

Man, I thought Mary was cold-hearted over the past few days as she allowed him to believe that she had some gentleman caller over so that he’d run over and fight for her honor. Now she continues to thrust her hound at her erstwhile not-lover as the latter’s respiratory passages begin to seize up. The question now is: who will win this battle of wills for Mary’s heart? Chester’s cuter, but Jeff is probably marginally smarter.

In panel one, Mary is waving Chester’s little paw at Jeff to give some veneer of respectability to her blatant attempt to thrust the dog’s genitals in the good doctor’s face.

Luann, 11/28/07

I’d say that this is supposed to be some sort of commentary on how secular iconography is displacing the true religious significance of the Christmas holiday, but this is the same strip that had town tramp Tiffany playing the Virgin Mary in this pageant. Luann headquarters is lucky that it isn’t a smoldering, lightning-struck hole right now.

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Comics Curmudgeon readers are continuing to gather in public and interact with each other outside the context of the Internet! I received the following fab note and pic from faithful reader Gold-Digging Nanny:

Non Compost Mentos and my boyfriend and I met up at Moxie Java a couple week ago for the first ever Boise Mudge Meet. We just now pulled the picture off the camera. Mentos is on the left, I’m in the middle and my boyfriend is on the right. We talked about the origins of Mary Worth, finger-quotin’ Margo, and Dysfunctional Family Circus until a homeless man kicked us out.

If you’d like to be a brave soul and wander away from your keyboard like Non Compost Mentos and Gold-Digging Nanny, check out the meetups forum!

You’ll note that Gold-Digging Nanny is sporting her awesome Bob Weber Jr.-designed Cassandra Cat shirt. Faithful reader KT took his shirt on the road — to Midwest Furfest, where it was a big hit, obviously. Here’s a couple of pics from the journey there — next to the St. Louis Arch and the Cloud Gate (informally known as “the Bean”) in Chicago’s Millennium Park:

Make like Gold-Digging Nanny and KT and buy your shirt today!

Oh, and one more thing: while you were stuffing your face on Thanksgiving day, faithful reader CCJunkie was reveling in yet another TDIET victory, since she’s K. Schroeder of Arlington, Va.!

I’ll let her tell the tale:

It seemed like an odd choice for Thanksgiving, since it was work related — it would have been better on Monday after the holiday weekend when more people would be in that situation. It was inspired by my friends, co-workers, and myself. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve brought work home with excellent intentions and never gotten around to doing it. Now I don’t make as big a production of it as Gaspayne did. Also, I’m a single woman, so no one is nagging me to finish it. Also, my home is not infested with spiders that can spin vast arrays of webs over a briefcase in just two days.

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Apartment 3-G, 11/27/07

I’d love to believe that the narration boxes in today’s Apartment 3-G are setting up some kind of tension between presentation and the underlying reality. I’d love to believe that Neil is practically wrenching Tommie’s arm out of its socket and coming close to hurling her on the floor, but in his self-centered way honestly believes that he’s executing a “graceful spin” and a “sweeping dip” — and that Tommie, despite her fears about a dislocated shoulder, is telling herself that she’s being spun gracefully and dipped sweepingly because she wants romance with Neil so badly. I want to believe all that because that would be kind of interesting. But I think this strip is just kind of poorly drawn.

Judge Parker, 11/27/07

I’m sorry, your majesty! Do you think that we down here at the county commission have nothing better to do than to show up at the front gate of all the massive compounds within earshot of every general aviation airstrip we approve? We’ve got Biff Dickens’ campaign donations to count, you know! Why can’t you read the 8-point-font ads in the Notices section of the newspaper to find out about the public meetings on the topic like everyone else?

Hmm … after having written that, I’m not entirely sure who exactly my vitriol is aimed at. I guess that’s because I kind of find everyone in this strip irritating.

Mark Trail, 11/27/07

Meanwhile, someone has framed Johnny Malotte — for murder! Bull Malone’s been shot — but by whom? Someone fired Johnny’s rifle — but who? Is Paul making up for his own perceived failings the only way he knows how? Has Bull faked his own death? Personally, I think the full moon behind Johnny offers a clue — he’s really a werewolf who shot Bull in an animalistic rage when he transformed, leaving him with no memory of the crime when he returned to human status! Sure, the theory needs work — probably a werewolf would have just ripped out Bull’s throat rather than fiddling with some firearm — but I mostly just want to see a Sunday strip about werewolves.

Family Circus, 11/27/07

Frosted flakes scattered across the tabletop, limp and soggy with Jeffy spittle, slowly hardening until they’ll be impossible to scrape off the formica = MOST DISGUSTING IMAGE I’VE HAD TO GRAPPLE WITH TODAY THANK YOU VERY MUCH, COMICS.