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Luann, 2/9/07

So, to keep you updated, Bernice’s long-lost brother has returned from the army, and Luann has been one step away from flinging her panties at him ever since, and Brad has, disturbingly — very, very disturbingly — been simmering in a jealous snit. Today, Luann and Bernice speculate that Ben’s military skills translate easily to the bowling alley, which means that either they or I really don’t understand exactly what goes on in the armed forces. I should point out that I was in a bowling league for my entire adolescence (I even had a ball with my name on it!) but teenage girls singularly failed to hurl themselves at me in recognition of my mad bowling skills. Of course, I wasn’t some sort of black ops army dude who looked like Jared from the Subway ads, either.

Gil Thorp, 2/9/07

Man, I’m loving Coach Thorp’s gnomic response to Marty Moon’s badgering in panel two. “We think about a lot of things”? Positively Rumsfeldian. In fact, his face is looking a little like the former defense secretary in that panel, as well; maybe this is Rumsfeld’s new gig. Sure, it’s a step down, but work is work. “You go into the game against Central with the point guard you have, not the point guard you might want.”

Funky Winkerbean, 2/9/07

The hangdog, eye-bagged expression on the face of Darrin’s Mopey Friend Whose Name I Forget pretty much perfectly encapsulates the black hole of bleakness that is Funky Winkerbean. Why exactly does he look like that? Has he been repeatedly punched in the face by bullies? Is he in constant pain because of his inoperable bone cancer? Does he cry himself to sleep every night because his uncle has been molesting him for years? Pretty much any of these possibilities would fit right into this strip.

So, what horrifying tale will the password post-it set into motion? My guess: Someone sneaks in the newspaper office, uses said password to log on, then downloads vast reams of child porn; Darrin’s Mopey Friend is blamed, hijinks ensue.

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Dennis the Menace, 2/8/07

Well, OK, so it’s a little menacing to fill some little kid’s head full of tales of supernatural demons to the extent that his eyes are wide with mortal terror and (presumably) his bladder is emptying onto the sheets. However, the little kid is Joey, who is such a tremendous feeb that it isn’t even sporting to try to scar his psyche permanently. Dennis could have gotten the same results by saying, “Look, under the bed! Shoes!” Or just making a loud noise.

Mary Worth, 2/8/07

“No, I came halfway around the world to drag you back to the stultifying suburban existence that you’ve tried so hard to escape! If it’s good enough for me, it’s good enough for you! The fact that I got to insult a third-world doctor and condemn dozens of children to a lifetime of suffering in the process — well, that’s just a bonus!”

Seriously, Mary Worth is an awful, awful human being. If Jeff manages to muster his last reserves of strength, sit up, and bite off the tip of Mary’s pointing finger, he will forever be my hero.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 2/8/07

Today’s TDIET shocked and horrified me — not for the usual reasons, but because Loopina is actually a type recognizable to modern, vaguely with-it people. Surely we all know that young contrarian hipster — probably not a teenager, but certainly under the age of 35, which, for the typical TDIET reader, amounts to the same thing — who’s all techno-enabled and blog-happy and whatnot but when it comes to music will wax rhapsodic about the warmer sound you get from LPs. Heck, he or she may very well have a blog that focuses on that very subject. It’s a good thing that this panel includes characters dressed like they’re from some bizarre alternate-universe 1950s and the delightfully weird phrase “computer-armchair potato” or my head might have exploded.

Update: Well, obviously the reason this TDIET depicts life after the end of the Truman administration is that “Leila Louise Henly” is none other than faithful reader Non-Shannon (you might remember her from the picture that accompanied this post). Congrats, Non-Shannon. I like the bow in your hair, but I’m frankly shocked that you weren’t depicted as listening to a Victrola.

Mark Trail, 2/8/07

Hmm, I may have to rethink my heroin theory. The only way you make tropical-island-retirement money in a national forest is through shady logging deals. If we get to see Mark punch out Secretary of the Interior Dirk Kempthorne at the end of all this, I will be a happy guy.

Garfield, 2/8/07

Ha! Garfield got a text message! And it spelled you like u! It’s funny … text messages … kids today … um … oh, God … [soft, persistent weeping].

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For Better Or For Worse, 2/7/07

Who among us — particularly, who among those of us who have had the misfortune to read his loathsome monthly letters — hasn’t wanted to say “*#@[star][Saturn]!!” to Michael Patterson? At last Grandpa Jim, who certainly didn’t leave his farm to stoically fight the Nazis just so his whiny ingrate of grandson could make mad bank with a book about an innocent Irish girl and the stoic Canadian who left his farm to fight the Nazis who abused her, says what everyone else is feeling. My only concern is that the final thought balloon undermines the joy at seeing the eldest Patterspawn obscenely insulted, that maybe Jim thought he was saying “Good for you, m’boy! I always knew you’d make it!” instead of “*#@[star][Saturn]!!”. However, I choose to believe that he’s wondering about the construction of the book because he’s hoping, once next fall comes around and his strength has returned, that he can beat Michael to death with it. *#@[star][Saturn]!! you, Michael.

Hi and Lois, 2/7/07

“Because once the two of them die of pneumonia, I’m another step closer to 100 percent of the inheritance. Then all I have to do is rig Chip’s guitar to electrocute him, and … MOO HA HA!”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/7/07

Rex Morgan, M.D., is trying to worm its way back into my affections with the whole “June throws herself at a thirteen-year-old boy” gambit again; I have to admit that it’s kind of working. I’m interested to see what strategy she uses to distract Niki from his simmering class resentment. “No, it’s not really so big … uh-oh, I just splashed water all over my white t-shirt!” You don’t want to know what the carrot is for.

Mark Trail, 2/7/07

Wait, Mark Trail was in the army? Maybe his obsessive love of nature is some kind of attempt to make up for the massive Agent Orange deforestation program he ran back in ‘Nam. He does seem to have received extensive training in righteous-fist-to-face combat.

I am a little unnerved by Mark’s shit-eating grin in panel two. It’s too easy to assume that Mark and Dan were all not asking and not telling when they were in the service, and anyway, it’s well known that Mark finds sex with anyone to be abhorrent. I’m guessing Dan was Mark’s connection to sweet, sweet heroin. The reason Mark so angrily beats up drug dealers on his turf nowadays is that none of them offer product as satisfying as the horse he got back when he was in the army, and Mark demands high-quality goods, dammit.

Pluggers, 2/7/07

When it comes to food science, gerontology, and/or chemistry, pluggers are terribly misinformed.