Mary Worth, 11/27/14
HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYBODY! Mary is spending the holiday with her dearest friends: Wilbur, Iris, Dawn, Ian, Toby, and … some dude? Some dude who is definitely not Dr. Jeff. Seems that Hanna Dingdon isn’t the only person finding new love these days!
Also missing from the table is Iris’s supposedly reformed son Tommy. My best guess is that he and Jeff are holed up over in Iris’s apartment, getting high.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYBODY! Pluggers would like to remind you that if you serve a frozen pie to your family today you’re human garbage.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYBODY! Crankshaft reminds you that Thanksgiving is a fun time to watch your elderly relatives, who know that they’re going to die soon, bargain with God. Enjoy!
Family Circus, 11/6/14
The idea that one is constantly being closely observed and assessed by others is known within psychology circles as the “imaginary audience”. It’s common in children, but if it lingers into adolescence it’s generally considered a variety of diagnosable narcissism. Frankly, I think it’s about time for Billy to grow out of it; instead, his own inborn egotism, fed by a steady diet of for-profit media, has led him to the delusion that not only is his dull life fascinating to the faceless millions watching his every move, but that his antics are somehow amusing enough for someone to actually buy ad time against them.
Mother Goose and Grimm, 11/6/14
I mean, sure, if you’re going to predicate your strip on the idea that dogs are sapient to the extent that they talk and hire psychotherapists, why stop there? Why only dogs? Why not the fleas that live on the talking dog’s skin and feast on its blood — why can’t these parasitic creatures also think and reason and talk, their incessant chatter banging around the edges of Grimm’s consciousness? And why stop at the fleas? What about the microbes that live on the fleas? Why shouldn’t all the individual cells making up the fleas and the dogs and the therapists have their own thoughts and feelings and opinions? Why shouldn’t be the world be a baffling, terrifying blur of murmuring consciousness, a quicksand of souls pulling us into whirling chaos?
Ugh, that got a little heavy, didn’t it? Here’s today’s Momma as a palate-cleanser. Ha ha, it’s funny because Momma and her sons are literally the last people in America who don’t have a calling plan with unlimited voice minutes!
Desperate to maintain readership, Pluggers will now only offer comic panels that can be easily misconstrued as something so horrifying that you have to read the caption to reassure yourself that the world is still a sane place.
Apartment 3-G, 11/6/14
This is gasp-worthy news! On the one hand, Margo loves her mother and wants to do right by her; on the other hand, Margo is not very good at planning weddings, just like she’s not very good at all the other glamorous-sounding consulting businesses she’s set up and abandoned over the years. Fortunately, if this week’s strips are any indication, Margo can just arrange to have the wedding inside some dowdy apartment and tell her parents it’s New York’s most fashionable restaurant.
Apartment 3-G, 10/30/14
Oh, goody, you know I love an Apartment 3-G flashback! I’m guessing that this giant 4 x 6 photo at which Margo is lovingly gazing (she keeps it in her purse, for convenient loving gazing action) is neither of long-ago love FBI Pete (even though she went ahead and had a captioned beach-frolicking photo of the two of them framed for some reason) nor of Trey, the sexy bescarfèd architect who redesigned the Mills Gallery for free in a doomed attempt to win Margo’s heart. No, I think we all know that the closest Margo ever came to true love was Mills Gallery founder Eric Mills, who knew that Margo valued power over mewling, pathetic artists more than a wedding ring. Unfortunately, the two of them could never be together because he was only sexually attracted to gas grills. Ha ha, just kidding! He actually died in an avalanche trying to sneak the Panchen Lama out of Tibet, which I swear I’m not making up.
Mary Worth, 10/30/14
“Ladies, plural? Ha ha ha young man, no, you don’t understand, only one of us needs to be confined to this caring, fun-filled elder-containment facility. I myself have fantastic vision and a very important job as manager of a condominium complex and can’t possibly–” “ALRIGHT JOE GET THE STRAIGHTJACKET AND THE TASER, WE’VE GOT A LIVE ONE”
Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/30/14
Good lord, Sarah, it’s like you don’t even know the first rule of working with mobsters, which, obviously, is “don’t be a snitch.”
Pluggers, sadly, know exactly how much their time is worth.