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Apartment 3-G, 8/21/05

Time-and-space-warpingly dull the current storyline of Apartment 3-G may be, but Sunday’s whacked-out installment reminds us why we love it. Flailing limbs, radiating bobble-head motion lines, near catfights over secondhand clothing — ah, pure bliss. I think Margo’s look of panic in the second panel of the middle row as her precious, precious hideous yellow jacket is yanked away may be her best ever. Still, Lu Ann shouldn’t be so smug about the number she just pulled on her brunette roommate — with the many close relationships Margo formed in the sweatshop sector, she can probably get those twenty shirts to Lu Ann for less than eight cents a shirt.

By the way, a little Googling doesn’t bring anything up for “Granger” as a designer or brand name for clothing. Are the strip’s writers so lazy that they just used the first WASPy name that popped into their heads instead of doing thirty seconds of research to come up with a real label? Or is the fashion world united in its refusal to be associated with this deeply unhip comic?

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Garfield, 8/20/05

My personal curmudgeonly opinion is that the less said about the 75th anniversary Blondie mutual wank-a-thon, the better, but I feel compelled to drag Saturday’s Garfield out to help illustrate why comics characters drawn by different artists shouldn’t be put in close proximity to one another. Because I’ve been reading Garfield pretty much since I achieved rudimentary literacy, but it wasn’t until I saw Jon next to Dagwood that I realized that OH MY GOD HE HAS NO NOSE! I MEAN, LOOK AT HIM! HIS ENORMOUS, BULBOUS EYES ARE JUST SITTING DIRECTLY ABOVE HIS UPPER LIP! SWEET JESUS CHRIST THAT’S CREEPY! I’m sure the architects of this huge crossoverfest were looking to instill a sense of “warm and fuzzy” in their readers; for me, anyway, they got “aesthetically unsettled” instead.

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Apartment 3-G, 8/19/05

Not that it took Holmesian powers of deduction or anything, but I would like credit for correctly predicting that this Apartment 3-G storyline would be bone-crushingly boring.

In fact, the only way I can maintain consciousness while reading it is to pretend that Scott and Lu Ann’s goodie-goodie talk really consists of a series of double entendres.

“I’d like to take a container ship of calcium pills to his Dominican Republic.”

“I’d like to add something to her container.”

“I’d like to be invited to his Dominican Republic to help distribute everything once her container ship arrives.”

You can see the increasingly desperate straits that I’m finding myself in. Help!