Pretty sad that Lou’s fantasies all involve just getting to sit down for one god-damned minute
If Mr. Lodge really wanted to make sure Archie didn’t damage any of his delicate artworks, he could’ve, say, just moved his precious crystal spheroid more than an elbow’s length away from the chair where he seats his clumsiest guests! Or, instead, he could just construct an elaborate cage around said chair, so Archie can see the delicate orb and know that he probably would’ve broken it if not for Mr. Lodge’s draconian measures. He forgives and doesn’t forget and also has the sort of wealth and copious free time that allows him to implement elaborately passive-aggressive retaliatory measures, is what I’m saying.
Good lord, Dagwood, you see Lou pretty much every workday of your life, and yet you still can’t recognize when he’s trying to initiate an erotic role-play scenario. It’s like you don’t even know who he is, after all these years.
Hello! If you’re a fan of Momma’s unsettling sexual undertones but have finally had enough of the Oedipal angle, might I recommend today’s strip, in which Francis and his sister obliquely discuss venereal disease?