Pajama Diaries, 11/1/19
Ha ha, remember when an innocent discussion with her daughter about social media profile pics led to Pajama Diaries Mom Whose Name I Forget chattily bringing up the constant intrusive thoughts she has about her imminent kidnapping? Well, tonight, when she’s just out having some fun drinking wine with her gal pals, she talks about how one extremely normal recurring worry she has is that for some reason in the future she’ll be in a coma indefinitely, technically alive but insensate and trapped in an interminable kind of living death, yet still subject to the crushing demands that the patriarchy makes on women’s personal appearance. Imagine your mind trapped in a useless husk of a body, screaming endlessly but silently because you think the doctors who occasionally stop by your room to change your feeding tube will think “gee, this one has really let herself go”! They say people want to see representation of others like them in the media, but as a guy with anxiety, this all just makes me increasingly uncomfortable and I’d honestly rather not!
Hagar the Horrible, 11/1/19
I was going to point out that taking a dog for a walk for “exercise” is generally a euphemism for getting him out of the house so he can pee, but then I remembered Hagar is a uncultured Viking living in a tiny dirt-floored hut in rural Norway. He probably pees on the floor himself if it’s cold out!
Gil Thorp, 11/1/19
Oh wow, it turns out Chance only threw scissors at another kid because he hates injustice so much. C’MON MAN. I’ve now totally revised my opinion on this plot, Chet is absolutely right to air as much of Chance’s dirty laundry as possible to put this self-righteous jerk in his place and get his stepson that starting RB job.
“Like, I don’t want cereal that helps me poop! I want cereal that I want to fuck.”