I don’t mind Rex and June taking some time from their coffee breaks and chowing down on some fine diner cuisine, but I can’t help but feel a strange sense of foreboding with some of the goings-on at the hospital…
(Thanks to “Wanders” from CC for having the mental and intestinal fortitude in compiling The Worthian Manifesto, a turgid and surprisingly pointless account of Mary’s early years and the reasoning behind her meddlin’ ways.)
Good Lord! Mark Trail is always going on and on about the amazing perceptive skills of animals, and yet when those abilities are right there, he wanders off in a daze.
It’s okay, Andy; I don’t think Slylock will charge you for this.
…well, that’s Alice’s Restaurant. The options are probably more limited here, but this is a place that you go for ambience, baby, AMBIENCE!
Okay, maybe not, but it’s nice to see Rex and June getting a little respite before The MRSA Meeting. And hey! Rex is branching out…is that a Sprite I see in front of him? Daring choice! Non-caffeinated!
(It’s truly astonishing how much mileage I can get out of a dopey diner scene!)
Before Abby rides off into the sunset, there’s always time for one for the road…
Part of the charm of Rex Morgan is the occasional GREAT rendering of a face. Okay, I tend to like the goofy ones (Niki looking like he’s had a 2×4 smacked against the back of his head, escaped felon Lee having a super-deluxe conniption fit, Rex looking puzzled/confused/sad), but this one of Abbey was just perfect. It didn’t help that June was telling Sarah how Abbey doesn’t mind getting her shots. Yeah, right.
Oh, come on, Mark…not even Rex is that clueless. All right–maybe he is.
Heck, for all I know, Rex might be a yeti under his lab coat. What was under the towel wasn’t clear, even to June. (The original was a Plugger panel, hence the Byzantine title.)
Anyway, I love his incisive mind, and that great “what, me worry?” attitude. He needs to read the fridge a little more often, though.
I might as well catch up to the Rex Morgan story arc, especially since it has derailed a little (or chugged onto a siding), with Abbey (the dog) going to the vet and Becka (the nurse) morphing into an android, or something. Need. more. Count. Morgu! OTOH, a little Dr. Phil goes a long way.
This was a little creepy, even for me, but when two Sunday FOOBs are published on the same day, I begin looking for conspiracy theories, Freudian psychosexual implications, little green men, and some thread, however thin and insubstantial, to tie it all together.
(The Julie Taymor film version of Titus Andronicus was pretty damned cool. Several thumbs up. And a couple of heads.)
Loramir from CC brought up an interesting point: several characters in several soapy comic strips share the same name.
It’s not like there’s a chance that we’re going to run out of “normal” names anytime soon. And evidently there’s a trend, at least in the U.S., of giving companion animals “human names” rather than traditional names like Fido or Fluffy or Getthehelloffofthat. I don’t know why…I asked a fellow who owned a dachshund, “Henry,” why he’d named the dog that: “Because pet names are stupid.” Okay. For the record, I’ve also known a dachshund by the name of “Daniel,” so maybe it’s a thing with wiener dogs.
Anyway, this is sort of a PSA/field guide to some of the potentially-confusing character names in our favorite soaps.
