Snark It Up, FuzzBall!

I read Sally Forth on Sunday, because that’s the only day we get the paper delivered. I’ll occasionally look it up when there’s some good commentary about a particular day at Comics Curmudgeon, or when Josh (the Comics Curmudgeon himself) posts it. Even so, I’ll just gloss it.

But, no… Josh had to make comments about Ted and co-employee wearing black vests, and Ted pretending that he’s making the Kessel run in less than 12 parsecs in his mini-van. Yeah, so I gave into the Snark Side. Sue me.

Well, Ted does have that certain Corellian “look,” the rather poofy hair from the 70s (or a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away). He still has girlier hands than most women I know, though.

Okay, maybe I wouldn’t be too keen on going to the Middle East these days, but weighing this against a long, long life in the ‘burbs with a pasty-faced, pasty-assed fiance’, a meddlin’ mother, etc., Liz’s decision-meter is well and truly screwed up.

Then again, there’s always the last-ditch effort…

I sure hope there’s a Plan B…

The 14 April strip for Judge Parker was perfection. Three people held captive by a whacked out female terrorist (who has obviously never read the “When I’m an Evil Overlord” rules, and feels the need to threaten and bluster for far too long)…making demands to alert the authorities and drag even more individuals into possible disaster…and realizing too late that Gloria Sanchez, legal secretary, has probably seen just about every jerk in the book.

HOW GREAT IS THAT?!?!

Superb action and layout…and if it’s not enough that Gloria relieves Samira of the detonator, she SLAPS the crap out of her! Oh, man, life is good!

This enhances things a bit, and since I spent some time on it, I figure I ought to post it. Still, nothing surpasses the Dynamic Duo today.

Rex’s Motto (at least for this story-arc): Let a smile be your face mask!

I’m back from the Embattled Bride-to-be of the Damned, at least for the moment, and back to Rex ‘n’ June, love-birds, medical professionals, MRSA hunters (although June’s sense of humor seems to be stretched a wee bit thin lately).

All right. Warren may be a jerk (wow, LJ, did I get that one right?), but to be fair, he’s no better or worse than any other male in the Foobiverse. Yes, that means socially retarded, ham-handed and stunningly inept at dealing with emotional issues at worst, endearingly, droolingly “cute” at best. Of couse, it’s not like the women do much to teach them any better — whinging and puffing out ones lips really does not address the problem.

God. I hate this strip. Liz and the rest of her ilk deserve absolutely everything they get, including toddlers who will forever be in diapers and fart-filled bathwater.

Gah! There’s MRSA running rampant, along with a scary terrorist-with-nails-to-literally-die-for, and here I am, feeling obligated to publish public service announcements. OTOH, helping folks prevent having their retinas burned to a crisp is probably a Good Thing, too.

Okay, so I didn’t have Warren bolt out of Elizabeth’s apartment like a scalded cat. I was almost (but not quite) a little sad at the turn this took.

(And I really like Warren’s original reaction to the Boggie with the Bijou…)

There’s no real reason for this post (yeah, like there are for the 200 others), except to compliment the colorists. The daily strips often suffer the Wrath of the Color Monkeys, understandable because of time constraints, but many times, the C.M.s are just as bad on the expanded Sunday strips. It sometimes seems things would just be better, and the artwork wouldn’t suffer, if they were simply published in black-and-white.

Sunday’s Judge Parker has some lovely shading work, amidst all the havoc and mayhem. And the last panel with the close-up of Gloria is glorious (no pun intended). Of course, it doesn’t hurt that this sultry vixen is delivering a verbal smack-down to Samira, Scourge of the Suburbs.