Snark It Up, FuzzBall!

…no, really.

STFU.

Nobody gives a rat’s ass.

(tee hee!)

Yes, another Tale of Ribaldry grinds and wedges itself to a tedious end…

Rex Morgan makes a house call to Mayor Stu (it seems Hizzoner has prostate cancer but can’t bring himself to tell the missus):

Okay, so that doesn’t have anything to do with Rex’s reason for being on the mayor’s doorstep, or my mind being in the gutter.  Let’s try it again (with CC’s commodorejohn commenting on opening the can of beer soda in Judge Parker taking on a whole different meaning, were it in Rex Morgan, M.D. — ya think?):

And there’s something about Rex, way down deep, being the Ultimate Party Animal:

I keep thinking that I can break the Mary Worth addiction, and then Dean Booth does something like this:  http://comicbooth.com/images/mary_worth_pizza.jpg

[What?!??! You don’t know about Dean’s Comic Booth?  Just about the best comics mashery around!  He’s my hero and continuing source of inspiration and out-and-out laughs:  http://comicbooth.com/blogengine.net/ ]

When you’re done laughing yourself sick at Dean’s stuff, here’s my response:

Poor Jeffy.  Time after time after time…same beach, same sand — um…something — same waves.

But just because Jeffy is the butt of so many jokes, I feel a wee bit guilty about it.  Here, Jeffy, knock yourself out with your little bucket and shovel:

[Update to the previous Family Circus entry, in which it was mentioned that this series of  “Vacation at the Beach” was originally run back in 1976:  the series was re-run in 2005!  So here we are, not even able to snark on sloppy seconds (I don’t even want to know what you’d call thirds…).  Someone over at The Comics Curmudgeon noted that at this rate, we’ll probably see this again in 2011.  Ech.]

I like snarking Mary Worth as much as the next person, but can we move on?  I find her siren song just too strong and I must mash it! (Maybe this is a subtle plea for Rex and Sam and Mark to step up to the base and give us some goofier stuff…)

Then again, it forces me to go a little farther afield — stepping away from the couch, as it were:

And to appreciate snarky suggestion from fellow Curminions over at The Comics Curmudgeon:

[I suspect Mary would opt for those sensible, wrap-around sunglasses though.  Maybe she’d go just a little crazy and get some reddish-orange highlights, too.  YEAAAAHHHHH!]

The comic strip Gil Thorpe does a bang-up job of messing with the space-time continuum (in that a lot of the strips look as though they’ve fallen in a black hole and are being folded, spindled and mutilated into fantastic, utterly impossible dimensions).  If you have a touchy tummy, this can make you a bit queasy.

Mary Worth is more established in perceiving the here-and-now.  People stand side-by-side.  No “art” shots.  No weird framing (that’s left to 9 Chickweed Lane and Pibgorn).  So when it does happen, with Mary hovering above Dr. Mike as he lies on his official psychiatrist couch, looking down on him as those God is parting the clouds and getting a gander at His creation below, it is even more disturbing than the current plot-line alone.

Mary, please leave wacky perspective to the professionals.  Or at least leave wacky physical perspective to the professionals — we know that you’re the inarguable master of wacky mental perspective.

Some people prefer to comment, rather on non-Euclidean space, the sartorial splendor of an up-and-coming young psychiatrist:

And then even some people with the patience of a saint, may feel a bit overwhelmed and need to call in reinforcements:

It looks like a lot of “unhappy childhoods” are coming to the front in Mary Worth, and now Judge Parker.  Who knew that Sam Driver wanted to be a jazz musician?

And even more important, who cares?

Mark Trail found the missing Sassy!  In spite of a Bad Guy (with requisite facial hair) stealing her from kindly old Sally to cash in on the reward, Mark used his mad naturalist skillz to track the Bad Guy! Wooo!

Well, I think he’s a Bad Guy.  Maybe Rusty is just a little confused:

Meanwhile, in the tender reunion, Sassy looks a bit baked.  Maybe not this baked, but pretty much chocolate-chip puppy baked:

“Read for comprehension, not for speed.”

This doesn’t explain why I read Between Friends — fairly unlikely characters in sort of a Foob South of the (Canadian) Border.

But this is what I honestly saw when I read the original.  Then again, I’m not much in the latest jargon (“man-scaping” makes me cringe, though), and I really didn’t understand what the accompanying illustration had to do with anything:

All rightie! Now it all makes perfect sense!