Knowledge is very dangerous in the wrong hands. And Dawn knows a lot of dangerous stuff. She knows that Kurt is somebody else's baby. She also knows: Pie is yummy. Kitties are cute. Horse's can be smallish. 
Today's Full Strip
In case you were wondering, the song they're singing is called "Three Little Birds" and I just added it to the Charterstone Jukebox.
For those of you who are new to Mary Worth, the woman on the right is a recurring character who sometimes appears in the strip drinking coffee. Her name is Mary Worth. She's not very interesting, but fortunately she doesn't appear in the strip very often.
Because, you see, there is a blood shortage in Santa Royale, and the Mountview laboratory requires you to give blood before they give you the cheek swab.
"And after some more persuasion, he agreed to let me keep his heart in this old juice jar full of formaldehyde."
Do you know who I pitty? The motherless women. It seems the entire world is full of people who never had parents, spontaneously generating through some sort of spark in the ectoplasm of life. These children must come from the same place where Kurt's suit jacket suddenly materialized.
"At fifteen, I couldn't stand the dysfunction anymore. I became a bit of a free spirit, with an uneasy restlessness. I moved from town to town, as a wandering minstrel. I tried to get into several Eastern colleges, Tate, McKinley, Taft... none would accept me. In a fit of desperation, I applied to Local University in Santa Royale, California. They accepted me, and so did Wilbur, allowing me to live in his apartment when I showed up on his doorstep refusing to take one of those untrustworthy DNA test."
As Wilbur and Dawn continue to bounce from Bedroom to Kitchen to Study, Kurt wanders hopelessly through the mysterious dimension that is the Weston Apartment, looking in vain for some sort of exit.
I had to phone someone so I picked on you
"Also, I have a tattoo on my lower back that says 'JIM.' Now, is there any other personal information you'd like to trick me into disclosing while I'm so (parenthetically) drunk?"
I'll stick with you baby for a thousand years
Every once in a while, Mary Worth exceeds even my expectations and achieves greatness. This is one of those ... (hic) ... moments.
At first, I seriously thought Helen Martin was David Bowie, and I was so excited. I have a feeling I'm really going to like Helen Martin. Oh, I do hope, hope, hope that Helen Martin earns more than bit player status; we need to see a lot more of her. At the very least, please let me see how she hangs up that phone. Because that will be funny.
This is what happens when you spend too much time surfing the Interwebs, Dawn. Your nose sucks into your face, your eyebrow hair falls out, and your finger develops the feint odor of Fanta grape soda.
Identity theft is not a joke, Dawn! Millions of families suffer every year!
Now, a little bit of housekeeping: There have been several requests for the song "Last Train to Clarkesville" by the Monkees to be added to the Charterstone Jukebox. I took this request to the Carterstone Condo Board for approval, but it was immediately rejected for the following reasons: "1) Quality. The low moral character, and inferior musical stylings of the song fail to meet the standards we hope to maintain at Charterstone Condominiums. 2) Relevance. We see no connection between the train to Clarkesville, and the Clarkville Resort chain in Florida. Your suggestion is forthwith denied!" If it were up to me, I'd say yes. I like the song. But it isn't up to me. The Condo Board has spoken.
Where were you when Martin Clark died? I'll never forget it. I was a freshman at Tate College (His alma mater, by the way), and it was spring break. Me and some buddies had gone down to Florida and were staying at the Clarkville Resort, which was awesome. I was standing on the veranda, looking over the sparkling ocean, when Dan Rather's voice on the television inside said, "We interrupt this program with a stunning announcement: Martin Clark's private plane went down just minutes ago off the Florida Keys." The nation was shrouded in grief. Who could ever forget when Martin Clark's plane went down. And, yet, nobody really knows anything about him. I want to know more.
I just don't know where to begin... I've been pondering today's strip as we unburied ourselves from last night's blizzard. I shoveled our driveway and our three neighbors' driveways, but I just don't know where to start...
Thank you, Dawn! As a former college rival, I am tired of being blamed for everything. Just because I was nasty and rich doesn't mean I stole your girl friend. Maybe, just maybe, she didn't like fishing. I can't help it if she was a free spirit! 
"If I could go back in time... then I could trick Martin Clark to fall in love with me, Dad could marry Abby, and I could prevent myself from ever being born into this miserable life." 
Why does Martin Clark sound familiar? I'll tell you why he sounds familiar: MartinClark.com 
"I couldn't stand him then, but I'm standing NOW. Look at me stand! I stand so tall, I can almost touch the SKY!"
"What was it about Abby? Thanks for asking. Well, first of all, she was a free spirit... Hey, here's an email from someone claiming to be my child who I never knew about before. Twice in one week. I'll invite him to move in."