After all this time, we learn Nina isn’t a bitch — she’s just had an unhappy, motherless childhood.
All hail, Margo McGee, Continuing Uber-Bitch of New York City! YAAHHHHHHHH!
Of course, Margo isn’t one to sit idly by and let those laurels lovingly caress her buttcheeks:
On more than one occasion in reference to The Mysterious Falling Down the Basement Stairs Case of Foster Woods (not one of the new PBS Sherlock episodes, in case you were interested), Rex has mentioned the Medical Examiner or Coroner or someone competent, but he has yet to actually contact said person.
Good lord, Rex…do we have to do everything for a smug jerk like you?
(And in case you were wondering, yes, this was WAY FUN to do!)
Mary Worth’s last adventure, to the wilds of New York to see Soccer Bobby and Hash-slinger Gina get married, was kind of a downer — Mary was only able to meddle a NY cabbie, and that was hardly exciting (particularly for the cabbie).
On her return home, though…let’s just say she hasn’t come back to Santa Royale a moment too soon!
…calls for complicated planning! Many plans! Many options! Many, many munchies!
I learned something today from Mark Trail! Evidently pufferfish are marvelous recyclers: why MAKE deadly toxins from scratch when you can just RE-USE the ones from the food you eat? Those cute, round tidbits of death!
…evidently the vast majority of cartoonists did just that, absolutely phoning in old hackneyed themes of “breakfast in bed,” “homemade cards,” etc., etc.
Fortunately the serial strips forged ahead, and thank heavens for that. Incidentally, Judge Parker probably had the most subtle-but-way-way-out-there strip today, thanks to Ms. Gloria Sanchez. There was an epic Panel 4:
Which could only be matched by repeated fond meditation upon it:
In other words: BEST. MOTHER’S. DAY. STRIP. EVER!
Occasionally, the layout of a Mary Worth panel evokes memories of past splendor (read, Soviet propaganda posters). If you think I’m kidding, just check out http://snarkitupfuzzball.nexiliscom.com/index.php?s=Soviet .
Fortunately, these are very rare, and Mary usually reverts to holding a teacup or doing strange things with her eyes, which isn’t glorious at all.
(Thanks for taking the bullet on this one, “Crazy Eyes” Bobby! Gulag Mary has a couple of more minutes of fame, thanks to your patriotic sacrifice!)
…but anything I can do for the Little Wooden Boy, I will!
Awww…it’ll get better, Rusty. Save your dimes!
No, really! We attended the National Hardware Show in Las Vegas in early May. Over 2300 vendors. Like a Home Depot on steroids. Maybe I’ll post more photos (even though photography wasn’t permitted on the trade show floor, you’d think I could’ve found better pictures of this dazzling lass online — geez, hardware guys aren’t as geeky and drooly as computer guys as I’d thought) — you had to see this, though.
Good lord, I can hear the muffled chuckles all the way from Lost Forest…
Geez, when even Cherry’s in on the ruse…you’re sunk, Rusty.
