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Awwwww, who knew that Margo had feelings too? She’s capable of love and sadness and loneliness and all that good stuff? If you prick her, does she not bleed? Or perhaps bleed, and then sue?

Margo’s tear is sort of suspicious, though. It looks like the one cried by that majestic Indian in that anti-litter ad from the ’70s, which is to say that it looks like it came out of a bottle. Maybe in her raging Margocentricism she’s convinced that Tommie or Lu Ann or her evil client or FBI Pete or whoever will see her crying and will soften their heart and open up to her — and that’s when she’ll go for the jugular.

Seriously, people, don’t let your guard down with Margo. She will fuck you up.

At least Margo’s tear looks like it might be transparent liquid of some kind. Over in Judge Parker, “Work It Like A Claw And Call Me” Randy appears to have been interrupted by his ex-fiancée while he was in the middle of a relaxing bath in a pool of mercury:

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Judge Parker, 1/26/06

Yeah, I’d bet you like her to “define” “physical” for you, wouldn’t you, Sam? I know that floor-length purple jumper has been driving you wild all night (a night that has, by my reckoning, lasted since about November). Still, you’re eventually going to have to come to grips with the fact that your clown-haired girlfriend gets most of her jollies through spying on her daughter. Oh, the shame.

Down in the rural south, on the other hand, the folks have a less complicated relationship with their physical desires:

Yeah, “entertainment.” Check out Mark’s Spock-style eyebrows in this panel. Maybe he’ll take care of this clan of bumpkins with some well-timed Vulcan neck pinches.

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Family Circus, 1/16/06

I’m not sure what’s more alarming about this panel: how damn satisfied all of Billy’s little friends look in the aftermath of his killer grandmother-related anecdote, or how smug Billy himself looks for having told it. I’m also perplexed by the very notion of cute-grandmother-story-time in modern American public schools. Shouldn’t these eight-year-olds be desperately cramming for the next round of No Child Left Behind Act-mandated standardized tests rather than laxidasicaly swapping amusing stories about their elderly relatives?

By the way, I’m assuming that by “cute,” Billy’s teacher means “incontinence-themed.”

Meanwhile, in Judge Parker, the double-entendre horror continues:

Honestly, it’s like they’re trying to make it impossible for me not to be puerile.