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Fans of They’ll Do It Every Time know all about the Urge, that unnamable impulse that drives the urged to visit some horrible act of violence — usually something along the lines of skinning alive or burning to death — upon the perpetrator of whatever minor transgression is the subject of that day’s installment. Sometimes it’s the urge to e-mail someone to the moon; sometimes it’s the urge to pan-fry his hide; and sometimes, it’s just an undifferentiated and all-encompassing urge. In TDIET, the urge is denoted by a helpful label and an arrow pointing to the urged individual — but how can you let the world know that you have the urge? Why, with one of these awesome shirts designed by faithful reader monsieurjohn, obviously!

Don’t be shy about showing the world your urges! Order one today! I think these will be really fun for taking pictures in with the wearer in some TDIET-esque situation, so I urge you to please do that! And, as always, there are other kinds of merchandise I can add this graphic to, so please let me know if what you’re looking for isn’t available.

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Gil Thorp, 12/3/07

“Yeah, we could probably test it at Tilden … by why not just keep failing spectacularly with the offense that was terrible before we stopped practicing it? Since we already have no chance to make the playdowns, there’s no point in having fun or trying hard in any of our remaining games. A healthy diet of humiliation will have our boys all the more eager to pull their half-assed Wing T trickery against Valley Tech!”

Meanwhile… Marty Moon suddenly realizes the free press’s obligation to challenge the Putinesque dictatorship of Coach Thorp’s athletic administration. Unfortunately, he’s eight weeks behind teenaged dim bulbs Howard and Tony in mining the Google for useful anti-Gil ammunition. Presumably old-school radio man Marty usually avoids the Web and has been waiting for this whole “Internet” fad to blow over, but recently discovered that you can buy booze there.

Apartment 3-G, 12/3/07

Dizziness … giddiness … elevated heart rate … shortness of breath … Nurse Thompson carefully reviewed the symptoms in her mind, thinking back to her medical training to try to come up with a correct diagnosis. Could it have been the one syndrome that wasn’t in her dusty textbooks: sexual arousal? Or maybe it was an asthma attack. Yes, that seemed more likely.

Funky Winkerbean, 12/3/07

That right there, if I’m guessing correctly, is Mopey Pete, erstwhile persecuted high school dork and comics artist, spurned by best friend Darrin when the latter started dating a hot girl. According to Funkywinkerbean.com, post-time-jump Pete is now a successful writer for Marvel Comics. For what purpose has he returned to WinkerLand? I imagine that he’s breathing in the heady smell of Montoni’s pizza before he walks into the restaurant and starts unloading ammunition into everyone who ever wronged him.

For Better Or For Worse, 12/3/07

“You sit over there, under daddy’s whore picture. That’s the whore chair. For whores like you.”

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Now that American Thanksgiving is over and order has been restored to the cycle of days, we must offer the typical Sunday COMMENT OF THE WEEK!

“Tell me, do you think Jeff’s allergic to dogs, or just allergic to having Mary Worth show him a dog’s junk? Because that second one seems like a good allergy to have.” –Trilobite

Plus: there are runners up, and they are also funny.

“Pluggers don’t realize that most VCRs will still only flash ’12:00′ over and over for eternity no matter when you plug them in. Then they blame the ‘Japs’ for making things so complicated. Then they complain that things aren’t made in America any more, so they break instantly instead of lasting through geological epochs. Then they hop in their Mexican-built Chevy and drive to Wal-Mart to ‘save a buck’ by buying Chinese sweatshop goods. Then they have bran.” –Mr. Coffee Nerves

“I think of TJ as more like Lucy Ricardo. Not quite as butch as Martha Stewart.” –FreshHell

“The woman’s look of sheer horror and disbelief leads me to believe that the only thing the three men plan to do is sing — loudly and off-key. She would much prefer a joint.” –Mariko

“That Lynn actually allowed a little zinger at Michael’s expense surprises me. Maybe I shouldn’t use ‘Michael’ and ‘little zinger’ in the same sentence. Ew.” –The Avocado Avenger

“Aside from the fact that Abbey’s complaints inspire absolutely no pity in me, it’s also just plain unbelievable that the ultimate power couple (the richest person in the area, married to the conniving politically-connected lawyer) could possibly be outmaneuvered politically by someone named Biff.” –jvwalt

“Mark Trail leaves me so confused that I almost want to care.” –Shlomo

“Where the hell are the flappers, A3G? If you’re going to throw cheesy dialog from the 20s like ‘tavern’ and ‘gang’ my way, I best be seein’ some flappers.” –King Folderol

“Um, Persuader? Can we persuade you not to wear a green sport coat and a tie with horizontal orange and black stripes? Please? Or is this part of your mighty powers of persuasion? ‘Okay! I’ll do whatever you want! You clash so horribly that it burns my eyes!’” –Inspector Dim

“I love the dazzling WASP-ness of the Apartment 3G characters. I mean, does anyone actually use the term ‘Irish charm’? ‘He’s one of those Irishmen, he touches girls sometimes, and may even wear a black sweater vest and a tie that does not match his suit. They really are a mystical people.'” –evie oh oh

“Just what can this uber-hip ‘tavern’ the A3G folks are meeting the ‘gang’ at be like, given that Neil and Gary will arrive in powder-blue sports jackets, Gina in a scalloped after-dinner-mint pantsuit, and Tommie resplendent with her lime blazer and buttoned-up ‘no-hickey’ dickey? No doubt, the coolest in Manhattan! I’m picturing a lot of girls with long cowl-neck sweaters that cover their behinds, with tights and leg-warmers; guys with broad-striped rugby shirts with wide white collars; sansabelt slacks galore, and everywhere you look: cardigans, cardigans, cardigans!” –Moon Mullins

“I’m thinking that Crock could start every strip for a year with ‘What’s wrong with Grossie?’ The first two strips could be ‘Her name’ and ‘The fact that I can’t even tell where her head is supposed to be.'” –Windier E. Megatons

“So yesterday, Andy the Big Dog had his own chair and place setting at the dinner table, and now he’s packing to come along and ‘help Johnny’. And where is Rusty while all this is going on? Oh, that’s right — Andy ate him.” –Mooncattie

Also, there are reader-submitted pictures! The first comes from faithful reader Saxman who wore his Margo!Boxcar!Saturn shirt “while fishing with a real life Mark Trail-ish fishing guide.”

Hopefully there were no duels to the death for your wilderness adventure patronage, Saxman.

Also, faithful reader James “Kibo” Parry (really!) took my description of the mayonnaise GLOM! from Friday’s Archie and made it much more real than any of us may be comfortable thinking about:

And hey, did somebody say “Let’s give thanks to our advertisers?” I think somebody may have.

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