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Six Chix, 7/6/06

I’m betting that somewhere in Six Chix’s marketing material, the phrase “fresh new voices” or a close variation thereupon appears. Thus, it’s all the more distressing to see the strip do a joke that appeared three weeks ago in They’ll Do It Every Time.

Of course, TDIET can’t let itself get shown up by a bunch of broads. No, it’s gotta up the ante!

They’ll Do It Every Time, 7/6/06

My love for TDIET grows ever deeper by the day, in large part because the idioms and phrases it uses seem to exist in a world all its own, a world that hasn’t changed since Ike won his second term. I’m not sure when the phrase “kitty” was last used for a tip jar, nor have I ever heard anyone refer to tipping as “Feeding the kitty.” But I’m going to start using both phrases as often as I can, to try to bring TDIET to life. I do like the fact that Titus (’cause he’s tight-fisted, get it?) is watching his car being washed from another room. Maybe it’s a two-way mirror down at the station house and the “boys” are interrogating it.

Judge Parker, 7/6/06

It’s kind of unnecessary for Katherine to point out that she’s not Randy’s birth mother, since they appear to be roughly the same age. In fact, with those knowing glances they’re giving each other in the last two panels, I’m thinking that there’s gonna be lots of long hours on the campaign trail where they’ll be … learning how to use chopsticks, if you get my drift.

OK, that was pretty gross. But faithful reader “rich” already stole my Katherine Harris election fraud joke in a comment on yesterday’s post. Damn you, clever commentors!

Katherine clearly will be able to use her psychokinetic powers to help Randy get elected — her fingers are glowing like E.T.’s! Speaking of which…

Mary Worth, 7/6/06

I’m sure I’m going to have many, many weeks to goggle in awe at Mary’s Captain Kangaroo-esque stalker, so I’m going to focus my remarks here on her electric finger of power. Specifically, it’s pretty cool. Back off, stalker man! She can taser you with her mind!

Gil Thorp, 7/6/06

Gil Thorp’s floral-print-tight-clad, junior-high-age daughter getting into catty fights at gymnastics camp? Oh, yeah, summer’s gonna be awesome.

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Dick Tracy, 7/5/06

I’m beginning to suspect that this Dick Tracy storyline is an extended apologia for the NSA’s warrantless wiretapping program; thus, it’s somewhat ironic that it brought up the subject of the U.S.’s secret monitoring of terrorist financial activities weeks before the New York Times did. Still, one begins to see their point: if our terrorists enemies are as dumb as Al Kinda here — who, while sitting in his Washington, D.C., office, changed from Western clothes into some sort of costume from a touring dinner-theater production of Sinbad the Sailor, and then greeted the entire al Qaeda network by name on his enormous wireless phone — then they probably won’t be smart enough to realize that they’re being spied on until they read about it in the liberal media.

Shoe, 7/5/06

Speaking of morons dressed in ridiculous outfits, here’s today’s Shoe. I have to admit that I’m charmed by the idea of some kind of Shakespearean method actor who refuses to change out of his costume, ever. Apparently, despite the fact that the vast majority of stage productions in this country feature contemporary characters dressed in essentially street clothes, the artist felt most Americans would fail to recognize Ye Olde Birde as an actor without this faux-Elizabethan getup, even though he utters the words “my” and “play” (in that order) in the first panel. This is a troubling assumption, but, sadly, it’s probably a safe one.

Mary Worth, 7/5/06

Ooh! Ooh! Mary Worth is being stalked! Mary Worth is being stalked! By, apparently, the world’s dumbest stalker, who appears to be standing approximately fifteen feet away from her and thinking, “Nobody can see me! Why, that branch is barely three feet above my head! I’M INVISIBLE! MOO HA HA HA!”

Oh, and: mustache, light hair — is our sinister fellow erstwhile Dawn Weston paramour/effette intellectual snob/violent rage addict Woody Hills? Dare to dream!

Slylock Fox, 7/5/06

I’m less interested in these so-called “facts” about peanut butter (no doubt supplied, along with a generous honorarium, out the deep pockets of the American Peanut Butter and Peanut Products Council) and more in the little tableau that accompanies them. From the look on the face of the groovy, hippie headbanded chick, she’s about to hit her breaking point. I’ll bet when she visualized her future as a young girl, it didn’t include dealing with a couple of buck-toothed freaks (are they brothers? father and son?) fighting over a condiment while she cleaned up after them. All I can say to Greedy McSandwicheater is that he’d better clean up those globs of peanut butter he’s spilled on the table, because that knife is temptingly close to his throat.

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Gil Thorp, 7/4/06

Ah, it’s summer! That means that Gil Thorp’s interminable and incomprehensible baseball-themed storyline has finally wound up, and the summer vacation hijinks can begin. Last summer we started off with innocent polka antics that quickly degenerated into a dangerous stalking situation, so my hopes for the next few weeks are high. This strip, which features hands and lips freak Mandy taunting the sexually frustrated Brent by forcing him to chase her while she tools around in a golf cart, holds a lot of promise, as does the return of squareheaded smart-ass Milford alum Von, whose lameness is confirmed by the fact that he didn’t flee from these high school kids the moment he saw them.

For those of you who were on tenterhooks, by the way, Mama Jolene decided to let Brent and his fluffy hair go to junior college because she got a free trip to Phoenix. No, I don’t understand it either.

Crock, 7/4/06

Let’s ignore for the moment the fact that this strip isn’t funny. It might have been funny, for instance, if “tar” and “mayo” formed some sort of natural pairing of words, or were opposites, or were ever discussed in the same context, really. Or it may have been funny if “mayo pit” was a phrase that anybody actually used in real life. But we’re ignoring that.

Even ignoring that, we’ve once again got a big coloring problem. Tar is black. Sand is … yellowish brownish, so I suppose the yellow used here is close enough. Mayo is white! White, people! Not yellow!

Unless it was, say, left out in the hot sun.

Like, in the desert.

In a … pit … of some kind.

Then I imagine it would get pretty yellow.

It’d smell pretty bad too.

So I guess the coloring job was OK. Which brings us back to the strip content. Which isn’t funny.

But I said we’d ignore that, didn’t I? All right then.