Snark It Up, FuzzBall!

And even if you get a WRONG number, there is nothing WRONG with being POLITE! Enjoy Nature!

I like the opportunity to riff off the Sunday Mark Trail strips.  I grew up with these comics (our paper only ran the Sunday strips, so I never knew about the Horror That Is Rusty or the “How To Make Celibacy Work for You!”).  I just loved all the animals!

This one was particularly exciting, as the original has Cherry in a torrid lip-lock with Mark.  Okay, so it’s torrid on Cherry’s side — it looks like Mark is still trying to explain the fascinating significance of kissing under the mistletoe. (Face it, if Mark’s mouth is open, it’s definitely not for doing anything French, like kissing or toast…he’s a pancakes man, pure and simple, just like maply syrup!)  This Sunday strip also follows a Saturday one in which Mark displays a horrified expression for the ages.  Combine the two, and I think this is my mashup Christmas Greeting for 2010.  HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Chennux bless us, everyone!

And this is even before we meet Matt the Guide!

Of course, that last panel is an instant classic (read, let’s keep it to mess around with in the future!).  And, you know, the future is NOW!

NOW!

Did I mention NOW! ?

Okay.  I’ll stop now.

So is “ennui.”

I suspect that “asshat” has an Anglo-Saxon etymology…

…just to see Mark Trail skin out of his khakis!

Look! Leftovers! (Or “more of the same,” if you prefer.)

The Courtship of Adrian’s Father proceeds apace:

And the sexy,  sexy Kelly Welly (hey, I don’t quite see it that way, but I haven’t been reading Mark Trail for as long as the folks at the Comics Curmudgeon have) schemes to get into Mark’s sharply-pressed khaki trousers:

Be Safe and Happy, Everyone!

Mark Trail! The Amazing Spiderman!

Actually, if we really want to be honest, it should be Sorta Amazing Mark Trail! The Pretty Lame Spiderman!

(And that’s “Sorta Amazing” in a “You’ve Got to Be Kidding Me” way…)  Nevertheless, who would’ve guessed that diamonds trumped everything this week in the comics?

Wedding plans plod ahead in Mary Worth, Rex Morgan tries to head Mayor Stu’s prostate off at the pass, who the hell knows what’s going on in Apartment 3-G, and Judge Parker isn’t apparently making enough money from writing to live in luxury.

Screw ’em.

What we need is good ol’ , with his good ol’ back-to-basics folksy knowledge, and his good ol’ good ol’iness…

…(well, as much as Mark Trail ever comes to reality), no politicians had their clocks cleaned by the Fist o’ Justice.  Nice.  Once again, People Like Frank get off free and easy…no divorce from fed-up wife, no restraining order from stepdaughter Rustina, probably got a really sweet deal on a gas-guzzling SUV from a local car dealership for being such a “champion” of wildlife.

Like I said, nice.  And Mark agrees:

It’s okay, Mark.  Dream a little fantasy for us all: