aka, Quit Feeding Me Straight Lines!
This is the site’s 500th post! Great Googly Moogly!
Sure, I could do some cheap and tawdry, get-a-quick-laugh mashup, but isn’t it better that a cautionary tale to aspiring cartoonists take this space? Anyway, to all aspiring cartoonists, illustrators, muralists, and graffi-artists: Nostril Upshots don’t look good on anyone.
No matter how difficult it might be to believe that Rex and June procreated, and that Sarah is the product of their loins (shudder), there are other ways of demonstrating relatedness. If I have to pull out one of my old college genetics textbooks, I will. I swear I will.
…when a plot makes a glacier’s advance look like the Indy 500. Mary Worth is usually the Queen of the Grind (maybe because she’s so old and tottering contributes to such things), but lately, the (in)action in Rex Morgan, M.D. is hovering (very, very slowly) around empty donut wrappers and Second Officer Guido Tomas’ apparent reluctance to find the stowaway boy.
Hey, buddy, the strike is over! Back to niggly little jobs that delight and amuse the clientele! Capise? We want smarmy, immature humor, lots of it (not unlike a cruise ship buffet), and we want it now!!
Ahh, that’s better. And if it’s not enough that the situations might be smarmy, Second Officer Tomas is acting a little more secretive (closeted, you might say) than usual, too…
There’s nothing quite like a comic strip that has its titular character MIA (well, aside from Garfield, Marvin, Edison Lee, Ziggy…). Mary Worth has been cooling her heels at the Charterstone pool, it seems, while Adrian and her fiance Ted are hashing things out about the upcoming nuptials. Aside from some money problems, things look all rosy, just in time for a spring wedding!
Or do they? This is Mary Worth, after all.
[Okay, I’ll say one thing. I don’t understand those people who luuuuuve crapola like “Love Is…”, and FOOB with dying Farley and strokey Grandpa Jim, and Funky WInkerbean’s dead Lisa and eternally-mourning Les … and then find Lio creepy and sinister.]
Luann is another strip I ignore, except for when the folks at the Comics Curmudgeon start raking it over the coals for the cock-teasing antics of the girls and the cluelessness of the boys. Brad and Toni work together as firefighters and have been having this not-quite-sexual relationship, which leads to all sorts of tired hackneyed boring shenanigans.
I’m really not too sure what’s going on in Apartment 3-G. Currently nurse Tommie is playing doormat for a doctor she’s interested in (I hesitate that Tommie has the “hots” for him, as she’d only ever exhibited a mild tepidity for anything). How much of a doormat? How about having his two kids dumped on her for babysitting without any prior notification?
Oh, Tommie, you angel of mercy!
You unbelievable sap.
…where there are weird critters and more sheep than people.
Mark Trail would love it.
Go figure.
I’m not holding out much hope for excitement in the ensuing reuniting of Donut Boy with civilization, but I do what I can:
And the excitement and suspense continues on Sunday!
