Not excessively? Not excessively. Well, that's the problem. Maybe if you spent a little more time online, you wouldn't have been so quickly duped by the Canadian phishers. I recommend spending less time with Mary, and a lot more time on the computer. Maybe start a blog.
Oh, I also recommend just stopping this story now. Today. Don't worry about finding a resolution. You've written yourself into a deep, dark hole. Even by Mary Worth standards, this is the most boring "story" I've ever read. Still, I feel strangely compelled to order a credit report, so mission accomplished.
Today's Full Strip.
21 comments:
I don't trust this "Ms. Bryson" -- not one bit. After all, she carries that briefcase, and it only had three pieces of paper in it. Phony, I say. She's a phony.
While reading the strip this morning and seeing that animated posture of Toby's, I could just hear her saying in her squeaky, legally-blonde (or should I say, ILLEGALLY blonde) voice, "Not excessively..."
I agree with Wanders. It's time for this story line to go! It's like time is grinding to a halt. Eventually there will be only one line of dialogue per strip...
Thursday
Panel 1
Terry Bryson: Have you used your computer for online purchases lately?
Panel 2
Close up of Toby's face with a single tear welling in her crossed eye
Friday
Panel 1
Terry Bryson: Yes, here's the culprit. You answered this phishing e-mail.
Panel 2
Toby gasps
Saturday
Panel 1
Toby: I don't know how to fish. No one ever taught me. Ian keeps saying that he's going to take me to Canada...
Panel 2
Terry Bryson looks at Toby in disgust
Sunday
Panel 1
Close up of Terry Bryson's hand reaching for the phone
Panel 2
Terry Bryson: Mary? Terry Bryson here. Can you come over to Dr. Cameron's? There's nothing I can do. I'm afraid Mrs. Cameron is a lost cause.
Yes, quite contrary, I really appreciate the close-ups. They provide clarity when the plot becomes muddled or confusing when necessary details are omitted. How did Terry get that phone? I never saw her reach for it and I certainly didn't see her dial. Thank goodness this plot has slowed a bit, or I'd be totally lost.
Additionally, I think I need to make Toby's outfit. My obsession with amassing vintage patterns has yielded at least one for a stylish one-piece pantsuit such as Toby's.
tina:
I didn't recognize you as the (brilliant) style mavin! I've been wanting to ask you to make, not Toby's, but Ensign Terry's pantsuit -- plum-colored panne velvet. I'm sure you could get a lot of everyday wear out of it.
In other news ... how big is that sofa they are sitting on? Judging from a combination of views from yesterday and today it appears to alternate between a cosy 3-seater and a titanic style affair which goes on for at least 5 cushions. I have tried in vain to think of some angle which could make this work.
viscosity:
Why not just do what the writer and artist do? Stick you head firmly up y--
Oh, hey, wanders! How ya doin'?...
Tina, could you actually find material that color?
drak: Believe it or not, that material is what lines the case of and covers my accordion. The instrument and case are close to 60 years old, however.
Wow...this story has officially devolved from moderately-interesting boring Mary Worth story to bland Public Service Announcement on the Dangers of Ye Olde Internets. From the conspicuous lack of even the most rudimentary form of storyline, I'm guessing Karen Moy recently got scammed by a similar "irgent" e-mail, and immediately rushed to reveal her bitterly-gained experience to the world, without even bothering to come up with a plot to go along with it. Now that's the kind of expert workmanship I've come to expect from Mary Worth!
Ah, well; this storyline can't go on THAT much longer...can it?
oh drak, you probably haven't been inside a craft store. Any gawdawful fabric you can imagine is under the roof of JoAnn. Here is a lovely crushed velvet in a pleasing array of colors! http://www.joann.com/joann/catalog.jsp?CATID=cat3117&PRODID=prd32173
I agree with Wanders that this storyline is
b-o-r-i-n-g! Personally, I am really left with a feeling of “Is that all there is?”
I still say this would have been a much more interesting plot if there had been several new credit accounts opened up in Toby’s name, a new international cell phone account had been established, if a loan was taken out for a new Lamborghini, if we could have witnessed the wrath of Ian because his credit card had been denied. That would have been such fun!
But I suppose Karen Moy is just trying to get the point across without putting too much undue fear into the 60+ age group of readers about the evils of the Internet.
Ah, well. Dream on. (Yawn…….)
I have to agree with everyone. This story is sooo borrrizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz........................................................................................................................................................................
What!!? Thar he blows! On the horizon. The great white chin beard is on his way. He will be here soon. Don't under estimate the exciting story line as the ill-tempered Ian sweeps back into Santa Royal puffed up on the intellectual poofery he has been so facinated by for the past days, weeks, minutes, hours... how long has this been going on? I keep falling asleep.
HOW TO LIVEN UP THIS STORY:
1> Apropos of nothing, Ensign Bryson belts Toby in the noggin with that cement briefcase.
2> Bryson injects Toby with a 'Flowers for Algernon' style drug. Toby devises a way to forever prevent phishing on the Internet, before reverting to her former self and spending the rest of her intellect-forsaken life worrying about what shade of lilac to wear.
3> Toby's rudimentary femme-bot programming gets caught in a simple "if-then" loop, causing her to shoot sparks as she rampages through the parking lot. Mary watches the unfolding chaos from her window, shaking her head sadly.
Dear Friends,
Many of you dwell upon what appears to you to be a slow pace here in Santa Royale. As you may know, among my many intellectual pursuits, I am quite the student of physics. The answer to the time connundrum may be found in Enstein's theory of relativity. For those of you dummies, I mean loyal readers who reside outside of the Charterstone community, I will attempt to keep my explanation as simple as possible: Moving clocks are measured to tick more slowly than an observer's "stationary" clock. As the moving clock approaches the speed of light, time when viewed from the stationary position appears to virtually stand still. We at Charterstone are, in fact, moving so swiftly that it only appears from your position that time has stopped. The ultimate result is that, relative to you, we in Santa Royale do not age. Sadly, you will all be dead long before we even get through the month. You poor dears would know this if you would simply take my advice and devote your time to more lofty pursuits rather than mocking what you so obviously do not understand.
Your Friend,
Mary
P.S. If you don't know about something, EDUCATE YOURSELF!
Your friend,
Mary
Or, as the kids say, you betta educate yo'self before you bad-crediticate yo'self.
Mary Worthless:
But I'm looking at you, not the clock. So if I'm standing still, and you move past me at the speed of light, why should you appear not to be moving?
Or does this have something to do with pi? Because I totally never got that.
My dear boojum,
I never really expected you to understand Einstein's theory of relativity you poor thing. However, I must add that in the final analysis, Santa Royale time has more to do with the genius of Karen Moi than Einstein. Now wasn't that a lovely oxymoron.I must remember to share it with my dear friend Jeff. Now go relax had have a nice piece of pi.(Oh dear, I just crack myself up sometimes)
Your friend,
Mary
Checkout Toby's NEW keyboard, did Ian buy it from a Lost In Space auction on Ebay? No wonder she had to use her elbow to complete the transaction.
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