Well, of course there are only "so many second chances in a lifetime." There is, in fact only one second chance. However, there is also a third chance, a fourth chance, a fifth chance, a sixth chance, a seventh chance... and so on and so forth.
Personally, I'm sensing this story building to another Pathetic Jeff Marriage Proposal, and it's giving me a strange buzzy feeling. Go Jeff!
Meanwhile Nola returns to her job as VP of middle management or whatever, the happy hobo searches for a sleeker shopping cart, Dan Smithers continues to dull his momemnts of clarity with booze, and Luna restaurant experiments with another one day name change.
Just like this storyline, Mary's apartment is sliding into a giant sinkhole.
Although my anti-robot words "toprecti nicsi" seemed to be Italian, when I Googled them there were several hits for top, recti, and nicsi. The most interesting was found in "The internal anatomy of the face", from The Internet Archive (a non-profit which is building a digital library of internet sites and other cultural artifacts in digital form.)
The first panel shows the conversation emanating from a small window (the bedroom?!), but the second panel is set in Mary's living room - what gives? And, where did the shrubbery or tree branches in the second panel come from?
This conversation is so dull, it's making Mary list to her right.
What happened to that tree outside the window? Maybe it's gotten a second chance as a table.
Mary is such a buzzkill. She and Dr. Jeff were chillaxing on the hallway sofa, chuckling at tearful televangelical remorse... looked like a fun night! Then, bam! Mary does her thing.She is a human cold shower of righteous platitudinous morality and Jeff is helpless in her spray.
Maybe Jeff is telling Mary, "NO more second chances for you" Maybe he's actually caught a glimpse of Nola (leaving Chinbeard's apartment, *cough cough*) and thinks to himself, "that gal is hawtttt".
"If you're referring to second chances, a person is only given so many in a lifetime.....lucky for you Mary, that number is 47. So will you marry me now? please? pretty please???
I'll bet this is the marriage proposal dealy all over again. Man, he grossed me out the last time with "Say yes, and we'll light up the sky" (Mary Worth 1069). Doesn't he know that women my age (132 next month) don't want to light up the sky? What I want is free dinners at the Bum Boat, rides in his 1957 Chrysler Imperial cabin cruiser, and someone to eat the brown circles and sauce that I like to serve at dinner parties. What can I say to get him off this topic? Look, Jeff, behind you! It's a Peace Village donor!
What Jeff is thinking:
I'll bet Mary thinks I'm about to propose to her again. Thank goodness, after 6 months of therapy with Santa Royal Senior Self-Esteem Strugglers Anonymous I'm all over that wanting to marry a woman who looks just like Granma business. What I want is a suitably respectable-looking woman who will appear at my side from time to time so that no one will suspect that I'm a member of the Gray Log Cabin Republicans. Ever since Drew left that Mens Health Mag at my house, I'm no longer denying who I am. What can I say to get her off this topic? Hey, Mary, want to borrow my reading device?
The hollow emptiness in Jeff's eyes tells me there won't be any more marriage proposals.
16 comments:
Whoo Hoo! No more recycled plots in Mary Worth!
Quick, someone call the folks at Guinness. These two are have set the record for the world's most boring conversation.
Well, of course there are only "so many second chances in a lifetime." There is, in fact only one second chance. However, there is also a third chance, a fourth chance, a fifth chance, a sixth chance, a seventh chance... and so on and so forth.
Personally, I'm sensing this story building to another Pathetic Jeff Marriage Proposal, and it's giving me a strange buzzy feeling. Go Jeff!
Jeff's go that thousand yard stare.
Buh bye, Jeff.
Meanwhile Nola returns to her job as VP of middle management or whatever, the happy hobo searches for a sleeker shopping cart, Dan Smithers continues to dull his momemnts of clarity with booze, and Luna restaurant experiments with another one day name change.
Just like this storyline, Mary's apartment is sliding into a giant sinkhole.
Although my anti-robot words "toprecti nicsi" seemed to be Italian, when I Googled them there were several hits for top, recti, and nicsi. The most interesting was found in "The internal anatomy of the face", from The Internet Archive (a non-profit which is building a digital library of internet sites and other cultural artifacts in digital form.)
The first panel shows the conversation emanating from a small window (the bedroom?!), but the second panel is set in Mary's living room - what gives? And, where did the shrubbery or tree branches in the second panel come from?
This conversation is so dull, it's making Mary list to her right.
What happened to that tree outside the window? Maybe it's gotten a second chance as a table.
Mary is such a buzzkill. She and Dr. Jeff were chillaxing on the hallway sofa, chuckling at tearful televangelical remorse... looked like a fun night! Then, bam! Mary does her thing.She is a human cold shower of righteous platitudinous morality and Jeff is helpless in her spray.
Maybe Jeff is telling Mary, "NO more second chances for you" Maybe he's actually caught a glimpse of Nola (leaving Chinbeard's apartment, *cough cough*) and thinks to himself, "that gal is hawtttt".
my robot words are "venjus nbagr" *cough*
I'm reading this as an assessment of Karen Moy's writing career.
Yep. Apparently Jeff keeps failing his test with Mary . . .
I saw a refrigerator magnet that said: "Dear God of second chances, here I am...AGAIN." Captain Peabody is literally right, but give us a break.
"If you're referring to second chances, a person is only given so many in a lifetime.....lucky for you Mary, that number is 47. So will you marry me now? please? pretty please???
What Mary is thinking:
I'll bet this is the marriage proposal dealy all over again. Man, he grossed me out the last time with "Say yes, and we'll light up the sky" (Mary Worth 1069). Doesn't he know that women my age (132 next month) don't want to light up the sky? What I want is free dinners at the Bum Boat, rides in his 1957 Chrysler Imperial cabin cruiser, and someone to eat the brown circles and sauce that I like to serve at dinner parties. What can I say to get him off this topic? Look, Jeff, behind you! It's a Peace Village donor!
What Jeff is thinking:
I'll bet Mary thinks I'm about to propose to her again. Thank goodness, after 6 months of therapy with Santa Royal Senior Self-Esteem Strugglers Anonymous I'm all over that wanting to marry a woman who looks just like Granma business. What I want is a suitably respectable-looking woman who will appear at my side from time to time so that no one will suspect that I'm a member of the Gray Log Cabin Republicans. Ever since Drew left that Mens Health Mag at my house, I'm no longer denying who I am. What can I say to get her off this topic? Hey, Mary, want to borrow my reading device?
What Mary says:
Jeff, I think you should forget about me.
What Jeff says:
Mary, I already have.
Mary must keep a copy of "Trite Cliches" on her bedside table...
Today's conversation between Mary and Jeff reminds me of talks with my teenage son.
Mom: Isn't it a wonderful day?
Son: Yea, whatever.
Mom: Aren't those flowers beautiful?
Son: They suck!
Mary: There are always second chances.
Jeff: Don't bet on it, lady.
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