Apartment 3-G, 1/27/10
Poor Tommie! No human in the history of time has ever asked her to actually repeat one of her boring, forgettable actions; therefore she has no choice but to assume that Blaze is propositioning her with a request for some perverse French sex act.
Ha ha, it sure looks like MJ was looking forward to hanging around Miami in her industrial-grade unmentionables without her dopey husband stupiding things up, am I right? Presumably she fears that his sparkling wit (“See, the theater you’re performing in isn’t on Broadway, which is a street in Manhattan … so you might say you’re … wait for it …”) will alienate all of her theater buddies, while trips to the beach will only result in passersby recoiling in disgust from his freakishly oversized arms and nippleless torso.
Wow, Montoni’s must be in a more precarious position than I thought if its hated rival is a counter at the mall’s food court where the employees are forced to wear comical faux-ethnic garb. Still, it’s nice to see that Pam likes to spend time with her dad when he’s indulging in one of his favorite hobbies — insulting strangers — and that she still has visceral personal shame-spiral reactions when he lets loose with his unfocused misanthropy.
Mary Worth, 1/27/10
Whoah, it looks like today is one of the three designated days per year when someone in Mary Worth talks sense! Wilbur’s reaction implies to me that he doesn’t entirely understand how the proposed process works. “Kurt, I went to my doctor and I tested positive for paternity. Maybe you should get tested as well! You can never be too sure!”
Hey, kids, remember “boom boxes”? They were like iPods, in the ’80s! As near as I can remember, they were covered with brown flesh and sparse hair and were physically attached to their owners, which explains Otis’s mistake.