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Mary Worth, 6/19/06

Yeah! It’s Charterstone pool party time! We all know what that means: the gears of the Mary Worth plot machine are grinding noisily as we transition to a new storyline. I sure hope that we get back to the glory days of meth fiends and drunks and moronic yoga instructors, and leave behind the recent insipid territory of lame divorce and lamer marital spats that we’ve been forced to slog our way through.

Of course, no Charterstone pool party would be complete without Professor Ian “Chinbeard” Cameron being an asinine sourpuss. With any luck, the next plotline will focus on Ian because something terrible happens to him — like, he has a heart attack and dies. The end. That’d be great. And it would probably only take, like, six or seven days.

The fellow in the orange shirt in the background looks to be desperately trying to have a good time at this squarefest by climbing on something. “Whee, I’m six feet higher than everybody else! It’s wacky!”

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 6/19/06

Can we have one day in the comics that doesn’t have some kind of “man on dog” theme? Please?

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Apartment 3-G, 6/18/06

As Mrs. C. pointed out to me this morning, this shocking revelation would be more shocking if the characters in Apartment 3-G were drawn well enough to be distinguishable from one another. Based on the hair alone, I’m guessing our lovers in an elevator are Tommie’s friend Lucy (Mary Tyler Moore-esque flip) and somebody who isn’t Tommie’s friend Lucy’s husband Ted (not black). Poor Tommie’s been driven into a frenzy of head bobbling by the double whammy of “AHHH, PEOPLE MAKING OUT THE ELEVATOR!” and “AHHH, SOMEONE I KNOW MAKING OUT ADULTEROUSLY IN THE ELEVATOR!” Of course, she’s already noted that she’s been made a little woozy by the combination of booze and “cigarette smoke”, so she’s really primed for a little head-bobbling action. Check out the bald beatnik and sassy minx in panel three … everybody at this party has head bobblin’ fever!

Longtime Apartment 3-G readers know that this strip loves the big elevator-doors-open-to-reveal-smoochery gimmick. If memory serves, that’s how Margo found out that Lu Ann was dating her ex, FBI Pete. It’s just one of the hazards of living in a vertical city like New York, I guess, especially if you can’t handle being alone with someone for thirty seconds without sucking face.

Crankshaft, 6/18/06

I’m all for gentle humor, in principle, but this punchline is so gentle that it takes two panels to roll into place, then makes no impression when it finally arrives. Maybe if the joke had been more hilarious, it would have distracted from the young female character wearing Daisy Dukes and a belly shirt in the final frame.

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Mark Trail, 6/17/06

Mark’s editor Bill Ellis is too much of a prude to say it, but another common target for poachers is the tiger penis, which is a primary ingredient in many Chinese aphrodisiacs. If this storyline ends up featuring Mark punching out some sinister Chinese poachers in an attempt to protect the genitals of a poor, innocent Bengal tiger, it will go a long way towards making up for the incomprehensibly stupid and action-free eminent domain/road demolition/weeping orphan plot just concluded.

With the finely wrought mahogany detail work in the background and highball glasses in front of them, Mark and Bill appear to have retired to a fine gentleman’s club or upscale tavern to talk about bear gallbladders and those who would eat them. Perhaps this is why Bill has taken off his stolid grey suit in panel one and put on his slick electric blue jacket for panel three — you know, to attract the ladies. Presumably, Bill has cast aside former Mark Trail touchpiece Kelly Welly now that he’s tired of her physical charms.

Sally Forth, 6/17/06

Tragic proof: The “sly look” is a genetic condition.