If I had a dime for every comic strip that showed a piano falling from a third floor window, I'd be... Well, I'm not quite sure what I'd be doing but it wouldn't be sitting around reading Mary Worth every day.
For a moment yesterday, I thought Moy was going to the dark side and we were going to see a crushed Van Dyke. But no....more accidental heroism for Wilbur. The joke (in Mary Worth? Ha!) is that Wilbur could be a hero to anyone, person, animal or thing.
Glad Mr. Van Dyke is okay and remains surly, but how did that crashed car ended up on the sidewalk which appears to be blocked by a line of undisturbed trees and parked cars.
Wilbur’s next outing is to blow off steam at Santa Royale Fun Park. He loves to drive those bodacious bumper cars. Unfortunately it’s Nuns, Orphans, and Veterans’ Day at the Park. Horror and near-tragedy ensues.
Finally, Wilbur finds his perfect match! Unfortunately, in a tragic auto accident, Megan was killed yesterday while attempting to avoid hitting an old man in the street. Although bumping over a trash can slowed her vehicle somewhat, it was not enough to avoid the fatal outcome of smashing into the side of a concrete wall.
I'm Meagan . . . I work in advertising as a writer . . . which is where I learned to use ellipses indiscriminately. . . I like long walks at Piccadee Falls, boxing, and travel to inland South American cities that somehow have an oceanfront beach. . . I'm looking for a fat balding loser who so fancies himself as a chick magnet that he wears Speedos in public . . . If you're interested, click on this perfectly safe link . . .
Heh. I wonder if Wilbur will tell her the "adventure story" where he had a tantrum on a cruise ship, got hammered, fell off the ship, and forgot to tell his daughter that he was alive for over a week. I'm sure this lady will be impressed by that one!
He could also tell the story of dumping his girlfriend for a hot Colombian lady and then finding out she was a scammer.
Whew! I’m glad he mentioned that the goldfish were at home. I was a bit concerned that the big ol’ brown thang on his fork was a deep-fried bit of either Stelland or Wilburina.
I find myself still wondering if Meagan is a scam artist. If she isn't, why doesn't she just pretend that her phone vibrated, answer it and high-tail it outta there.
But, it is kind of pleasant to watch, knowing that Wilbur is gonna get some of what he deserves, one way or the other.
I just had a dreadful thought. This isn't going to turn into another act of heroism, is it? Like Meagan choking on a piece of that dog food or whatever it is they're eating, and Wilbur saves her with the Heimlich maneuver? The difference now, obviously, is that he actually performed a heroic act.
True Story: When I proposed to my wife at the jewelers, I had left my wallet at home. She had to put the downpayment on her engagement ring. We've been married 26 years.
There won’t be a next time for Meagan, but there will be, unfortunately, for us, exiled as we are in the darkest corner of the Worthiverse. Thank heavens I’m not alone.
Please tell me this improbable relationship will not be saved by the old guy Wilbur inadvertently saved showing up to praise Wilburman… Don’t fall for it, Megan. And make Wilbur pay you back for lunch!
A perfect visual of the essence of Wilbur: totally clueless, totally self-absorbed. Meagan hitting on the waiter, doesn’t really change anything: Wilbur was always on date with only Wilbur.
@fauxprof; you may be on to something. I'm kind of impressed by Meagan. She's quite resourceful and is certainly making the best of the situation. Lemonade, anyone?
Now you must ask yourself, Wilbur, why did she abandon you? Until you can answer that question we are all doomed to having to read about your lonely and abandoned self. By all means, go ask Mary.
Meagan already knew the kissable waiter; she was surprised to find him there. But…he is the son of her best friend, and he’s 25 years younger than Meagan. She’s a cougar!
Mary: “…Maybe he’s busy. But just in case he’s not, I’ll go over and yack yack yack at him all afternoon. And if he is busy, I’ll tell him how to do whatever he’s doing…(Sigh…)…Life is good.”
I wonder if this is going to evolve into a story about people sinking into a depressive state and being encouraged to seek therapy and treatment. It would give Mary a prime opportunity to be the encourager (not gonna say meddler), and make us feel guilty for dunking on Wilbur.
It would have more impact as a PSA it the protagonist were Dr. Jeff, someone we already feel empathy for, and not (yechh) Wilbur.
fauxprof - I have the same feeling that we're looking at another one of KM's PSAs. I think you're probably correct in that it will be about loneliness and depression. My thought was that KM would be teaching us how to handle isolation. She's just read a news article about something called "COVID" and wants to warn us about it.
Any minute now, the heroic Dr. Ed Harding will break down Wilbur’s door, heroically rush to the fish tank, and heroically attempt to save Stellan and Willa, as he shouts, “MY GOD, MAN WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM? DID YOU OVERFEED THEM?”
I have some specialized information about reviving goldfish, and if you’re interested, send me $19.95 and a self-addressed envelope. No? Okay, I’ll tell you.
One night I went into my son’s room to turn down his bed. I happened to glance over at the fish tank. One fish was swimming lazily around. But the other fish had flopped out of the tank and was lying limply on the floor! I decided to place him back in the tank and let my husband ‘discover’ and deal with him later, a decision of a type that will be understandable to married women.
I eased Henry gently back into the tank, and he floated on the top of the water. The other fish came up to him and blew air into his gaping mouth. Suddenly, Henry shrugged, then swam rapidly in circles! And lived several more years.
I also read that Dame Judi Dench once gave her fish mouth to mouth breathing. So, Wilbur, sober up and kiss those fishies!
Will Wilbur go to the pet store to buy a new fish, and meet someone who also loves fish? Or will the other fish {Willa?} die of loneliness and leave Wilbur in deep depression? Will the heroic Dr. Harding arrive in time to revive Stellan? Will Dame Judi Dench? Will Wilbur decide on kippers for breakfast? Stay tuned for this action packed adventure.
No doubt Mary will hear that blood-curdling cry and rush down with one of her platitudes. "Oh, Wilbur. You know what they say. If life gives you goldfish, make goldie-lox."
So, fish death is going to rocket Wilbur back into connecting with living, breathing humans? Mary will have to break down the mountain of carryout boxes stacked against his front door in order to reach him, but as long as she follows the sound of him bleating "People, people who need people are the luckiest people in the world", I think we're good.
Flush him down the toilet?! How could you have even thought of doing something so disrespectful, Wilbur? Far more civilized to put him in an empty mayonnaise jar and throw him in the dumpster.
I have to admit...I find myself wondering how Mary feels about fish funerals. Would she attend? Would she officiate? Would she admit Stellan into her compost pile?
Will the other animals of Charterstone attend the service? Pierre, Max, Greta, Libby, Chester… Who’ll cater the wake? Bum Boat, Jerry’s Sandwich Shoppe, Le Chien D’Amour… Will Chin Napkin be ‘repurposed’?
I don't pretend to know if fish can love or pass judgement. But I do know that Stellan had absolutely no choice but to "be there". I can easily imagine that if he could have chosen, he would absolutely have been anywhere else.
Not to be intrusive, but, has anyone (I know a lot of you live in Ohio) heard from KitKat lately? I hope, KitKat, that you have won on the latest gazillion dollar scratch ticket or whatever, and now are shopping for your Italian villa. Please let us know that you are okay and that we should be booking tickets for our vacations.
Oh, no! It is just as I feared! This mawkish display will be the final appearance of Chin Napkin! Our beloved Chinnie has been starched, pressed, and pressed into service as Stellan’s shroud.
But he did have a good life. He’s been used to wipe marinara sauce off a bishop’s chin. He’s blotted the chins of saints and of knaves. He’s been (humiliatingly) thrown on the floor, sopping up beef gravy and being ground underfoot by the polished boots of under footmen. He served as a kerchief to be waved at departing troops as ‘our boys’ sailed off to the Spanish-American War, and George Washington once rested his wooden teeth on Chinnie after an evening spent at the Soldiers’ Ball in Morristown during that bitter winter of 1779-80.
Now Chinnie has been selected to render the last full measure of devotion to the fishy-smelling corpus of a minor-nay, MINUTE- non-speaking character who has only been resident at Charterstone since the Covid era. Chinnie was swabbing away Wilbur’s post-karaoke flop sweat when (so-called) “Stellan” was a mere fingerling.
Chinnie- I salute you and will remember you in my deep thoughts. “Stellan”- I will dine on your distant cousin this evening, avec buerre blanc. And with a PAPER napkin.
Hello my Worthiverse friends! I am still in Ohio, not in Italy, and not playing the lottery. I’ve been dealing with anxiety issues for the past couple of months, which has knocked me for a loop. I am getting help and anticipating healthier days. I am so touched that I was missed. Thanks for your support, my friends!
I have continued to read MW, but Wilbur’s latest woes are so depressing.. Who’s worse off, Wilbur or KM? It seems to me we’ve crossed the line into Not Funny Territory.
KitKat, good to hear from you. You've been one of the bedrocks of our little group for a long time. Take care, and we all wish you well. Write when the spirit moves ya.
KitKat, so relieved to see your comment this morning, but sorry to read the reason you've been sidelined. Best wishes for healing and happy summer days ahead. We'll look forward to seeing you back when you're ready to clobber KM again!
Glad to hear from you KitKat. I am sorry you are having some challenges. Remember you are part of a diverse family, that though scattered cares about each other.
Hi KitKat! So good to hear from you! I hope you feel better soon.
Well, I don't think the Swanson company or Ben & Jerry's have anything to worry about. Gotta wonder if Wilbur in a blur of grief might accidentally eat Stellan. Probably wouldn't even notice.
Is this forshadowing? Will Willa bite the dust and Wilbur have to eat the fish food? Will Wilbur make a matching box for Willa in the freezer? Will Willa get lonely in the acquarium? Will KM have a clue how to end this story?
Depression is a serious health problem, and a daily comic strip could be a viable platform to explore it. However, it’s hard to drum up sympathy for a character who is as clueless, despicable and downright hateful as Wilbur. I mean consider how disappointing it was to find out that he survived his plunge from the cruise ship.
The second fish would be likely to die in real life. I doubt that Wilbur did any water tests after the first fish died, and I doubt he does any partial water changes on the tank.
@fauxprof, your comment yesterday was perfectly put - huzzah. Wilbur is so detestable, it’s well nigh impossible to have even a sliver of empathy for him. That excludes Mary, who has an inexplicable tolerance for him. I’m surprised she hasn’t broken down his door or climbed through a window in his apartment yet. Maybe this weekend she’ll bust her way in, armed with a container of Febreze. Wilbur hasn’t changed his clothes and must be emitting a ripe odor.
“After several weeks,” wouldn’t even Wilbur have more than stubble? He does appear to have a zipper below his chin in today’s p. 1; what is that?
Thanks again for your thoughtful messages to me, Worthiverse friends!
Good to see you out and about, KitKat! You've been missed! But one thing? Please do try to stay away from using the word "zipper" in context with Wilbur. I'm still cringing.
I thought the same thing about Wilbur's stubble. I think Auntie June has become nearly as lazy as KM and just couldn't be bothered to draw a beard.
@KitKat, I keep trying not to imagine how bad he smells by now. As for the stubble, perhaps he also has chin pattern baldness, which is a genetic thing I just invented to shore up my suspension of disbelief. It’s not very willing these days. Perhaps Mary will call the Santa Royale Constabulary to do a welfare check on Sunday.
I didn't think I could care less about Wilbur, but I'm finding his slide into depression and filth to be boring. It's not that I don't care about people in general, just Wilbur in particular.
Mary: “I’ve been so busy trying to text and call Wilbur that I haven’t had time to bake. I’ll just take him something I bought at the big snack sale at Food Town. Now what would he like? (rummages through pantry) Ah, the very thing! Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Crackers- he’ll love these.”
Goldfish Crackers — you hit on the perfect munchie, meg!
That looks like an awfully uncomfortable position Wilbur has wedged himself into. I’m thinking Mary will enlist Mr. Alora to open Wilbur’s door somehow. A shocking sight awaits them.
Meanwhile, remaining fish Willa is furious that Wilbur seemingly forgot all about her. Then again, since Wilbur hasn’t fed her in weeks, she likely joined Stellan in the Great Fishy Beyond many days ago.
Mary has a master key for all the Charterstone condos. It’s in the HOA bylaws. She will, however, take Mr. Allora along, because it’s always good to have a witness to…whatever.
He’s got two goldfish that, for all intents and purposes, are just alike, yet somehow one of them is his favorite. So much his favorite that he’s left the other to starve. Well, he’s consistent in his Wilburing, and king of his own crumb-infested universe, at least until Mary meddles him back into some sort shape where he will have a soon to be forgotten epiphany.
Time to take my pet peeve out for a walk: "I wonder why" is not a question. It is a declarative sentence. The correct punctuation at the end of this phrase is a period, not a question mark. June must have been told this before. Why does she ignore it?
Meanwhile, Wilbur's mail must be stacking up and some of his bills are probably overdue, which will add to his ridiculous misery. Couldn't happen to a more deserving guy.
@Miss Scarlet, of course I remember Mighty Mouse! He was part of my 1950’s, black-and-white Saturday morning ritual. It also evokes footie pajamas and being allowed to eat my cereal in the living room as long as I didn’t spill.
Mr. Troubles never stays around When Mary brings her muffins down.
And here’s a memory from my junior high days: Our football team was known as the Mighty Mites, and their uniforms were red and yellow. Before every game, a costume-wearing mascot would run around the track, cape trailing behind.
You can imagine what a fierce reputation our team had in the district, and we had a perfect season record- 10 games played, 10 games lost
Scottie, I share your pet peeve. This incorrect punctuation always sets my teeth on edge. Maybe June’s contract does not include editing KM’s dialogue.
Stellan and Willa were siblings? I thought they were a romantic pair, like Wilbur fantasized that he and Estelle once were. Isn’t that why he gave them those names?
Oh, goody! Pop culture references. Which advances the plot better? If we go with The Mamas and the Papas, Wilbur starts doing drugs. If it’s The Shining, bloody mayhem.
Did you hear the one about the guy who bought some of John Phillip’s wardrobe at a thrift store? All the sleeves are brown, and the tie is gray.
fauxprof, Love the joke. Everyone is killing it today. Killing it is in bad taste I guess. What would Wilbur think? Never mind, no one cares what Wilbur thinks.
Of course, Wilbur doesn't have to dream of California, he could just go outside (although we are having a lot of gray May right now).
Wurtzel wrote Prozac Nation and about her own depression and substance abuse. Do chips count? Wilbur doesn't seem to have hit the bottle yet... I see Mary has been baking; can't be long now. What did he do with that pizza cutter?
OK - I keep marine fish and take good care of them. I get pretty attached to all my pets.
But this seems like an over-the-top response over the death of a goldfish? I've been very upset over the loss of a dog or bird but I don't think my fish see me as much more than a big thing that puts food in the tank. I don't like it when they die but I don't lose my mind. I will do some water tests when one dies to make sure there hasn't been a water quality problem.
Mary's usually eager to meddle but it's interesting that she hasn't done anything after not hearing from him for weeks. That would justify some sort of welfare check. I think she's lost her mojo too.
Mary is Wilbur’s most supportive friend, she lives next door, yet she takes weeks to check up on him? His daughter hasn’t heard from him either, and presumably he still has an employer. Wilbur is so much despised by his circle, that I’m beginning to feel some grudging sympathy for him. It ain’t pathos, but bathos, which is all I can muster at this point.
I notice that while Mary is huddled listening to the door, she is also staying out of sight of Wilbur's peep hole. So, if Wilbur peeks out he won't see who is knocking. Maybe he will just turn the TV down and stop crunching chips and hope that the knocking goes away. I doubt that that will stop Mary. Does Mr. Allora have spare keys? He should, right? Now I'm hoping Wilbur won't answer the door.
On the other hand, maybe Mary will be able to smell him through the door.
Mary: Let me in! Wilbur: Fine. Come in, I don't care. Mary: Why so glum? Wilbur: Stellan, my favorite fish died. I can't get over it. Mary: Show me. (Walks over to the fish tank) That is Stellan! Willa must be the one who died. Wilbur: Are you sure? Mary: Yes, Stellan has a little mark on her fin. There it is. Wilbur: Hallelujah! My darling is alive! I am taking a shower, shaving, throwing away a frozen fish, then off to Karaoke. Mary: Such endearing qualities.
Weren't we in the middle of a "Why can't I be a hero?" story when all of a sudden, we now find ourselves fraught within a feeble forlorn fish fatality? KM, you need to focus. Focus!
Based on what I have read on the internet, I can only conclude, er, guess, what may be about to happen. To wit: fish can appear to be dead, and then spring back to life if they have a source of oxygen. To wit 2: fish can be frozen at the bottom of a pond over the winter, and then spring back in the spring.
If Mary knows this, she may be about to perform her most amazing act yet.
My fish are fragile clowns'd should ve my fonal day) (my fish are fragile clowns) Howling dogs ain't great (howling dogs ain't great) I've waited for this knock (I've waited for this knock) On a splint'ry day (on a splint'ry day) I'd be fighting Kong (I'd be fighting Kong) If I found the apes (if I found the apes)
Scowling fortress dreaming (scowling fortress dreaming) On such a splint'ry day
I get up and I lurch And I wheeze and sway Well, I look at all my sleaze (look at all my sleaze) And pretend dismay (and pretend dismay) You know, the meddler likes to scold (meddler likes to scold) She knows I'm not OK (knows I'm not OK)
My fish are fragile clowns (my fish are fragile clowns) Howling dogs ain't great (howling dogs ain't great) There's nothing but to squawk (there's nothing but to squawk) On a splint'ry day (on a splint'ry day) I'd really like to tell her (I'd really like to tell her) Should be my final day (should be my final day)
Scowling fortress dreaming (scowling fortress dreaming) On such a splint'ry day (scowling fortress dreaming) On such a splint'ry day (scowling fortress dreaming) On such a splint'ry day
Meg, no I'm evidently not on the right blog for my material because I don't really have the sensibility of a Snarker, but there's no where else where people would know a lot about Wilbur and Mary, so I thought I'd try and insert this parody here (and the Comics Curmudgeon). I didn't think it was so different than the parodies Mr. Tice creates. But I can keep this sort of contexted exercise to myself, if that's preferable, and stick to sending my earnest poetry to the right places. But somehow people liked my first parody attempt here years ago (based on M.W. and "Bird on a Wire") so I thought maybe this might be pleasing too. I'll show myself out--and offer good wishes to everyone here, but easy on the mayo!
As a direct descendant of Vlad Drakul, Mary cannot pass the threshold of a hallowed home uninvited, but once granted entry her meddling grasp will be unshakable. I prophesy weeks of wide-eyed, gaspy judginess as Mary takes inventory of every single discarded TV dinner before finally prescribing a trip to Karaokeland.
I had really wanted to see *much* more spiraling. It should have involved Mary too, as deprived of her daily meddle she sinks into a spiral of manically baking muffins and Kelk squares, their uneaten husks piling up around her, grimy cowl-neck sweater daubed with sweat and salmon grease.
And even Dawn, now living in her mom’s basement and banging out increasingly unhinged Reddit posts about how everyone reminds her of Jared, who in turn reminds her of Dave. Life is brutal Karen, and don’t you forget it!
@KitKat - not only am I impressed that Mary isn't gasping for air. I am also amazed that she didn't burst out laughing when Wilbur told her his fish died.
I dig the “pet parent” thing, I really do. When talking to countless pets over the years, I have referred to myself as Mommy. But I never called a cat or dog my son or daughter. And, Wilbur? Goldfish are not at all seaworthy. Salt water is not their natural habitat.
Oh boy. I hope Mary doesn't just recommend something mundane like karaoke or a walk in the park.
She should tell him: "you need some help. But a regular psychiatrist couldn't even help you. You need to go to like, Vienna, or something. You know what I mean? You need to get involved at the university level. Like where Freud studied, and have all those people looking at you and checking up on you. That's the kind of help you need. Not the once a week for eighty bucks. No, you need a team. A team of psychiatrists working round the clock, thinking about you, having conferences, observing you. Like the way they did with the Elephant Man."
Scottie, you won the interwebs yesterday with your comment, hahaha.
If Mary starts off by telling Wilbur he’s a successful journalist, we’ll all bang our heads against a table. We never see him writing furiously and submitting articles. What happened to him traveling the world to interview survivors of natural disasters? He should have lots of opportunities for that. The only thing he seems to succeed at is having an income stream that allows him to remain at Charterstone with apparently no financial concerns.
Here she goes again. Telling Wilbur how wonderful he is with absolutely no evidence to back it up. Has he ever done anything for her? Is he amusing? (not in a cringy way). Is he good looking? (No!). Is he even nice? (Not often). What is Moy's point?
Maybe it is actually about Mary not failing at giving advice and 'saving' someone. Hmm....that make more sense; it's not any more believable, however.
So, Mary has a book and Wilbur’s (I assumed aggregated) score contained within it is somehow high enough to make him a “winner.” If everyone is a “winner,” Mary, then the term loses all meaning.
I got nothing. Maybe Mary can call Mr. Allora to shovel out the place, after he frogmarches Wilbur into the shower, clothes and all. In the meantime, she can get in touch with Dr. Sweatervest to make an emergency house call. Or, she can find a nice chest freezer for Wilbur and the fish.
I can't help noticing that whatever depressive episode has befallen Wilbur, it hasn't affected his appetite. Most of the detritus in his apartment is from food boxes.
Mary can't give up. It would ruin her reputation. On the other hand, if Wilbur dies from food poisoning then it won't be her fault. That pizza is very, very old.
And what is it with the doves?! Maybe one of the doves will agree to be Wilbur's pal. He could name it Stella Livingston Dovesworth in an effort to replace the fish, which, had the bird seen it, would have definitely been a tasty afternoon snack.
How soon does Mary finally snap? No matter what she says Wilbur will still wallow in self-pity. I hope she goes ballistic and starts slapping the snot out of him. Of course, this will never happen. She will, as usual, wear him down.
So what do you think is on Wilbur's tee shirt? Oregano? bits of hot pepper? I'm voting for shards of noodle left over from a previous day's Chinese takeout. Arfully done, JB, especially with the cross-hatched bathrobe and pillow cradling Wilbur's greasy head. Ewww...
How about joining a group of aquarium enthusiasts? Obesity anonymous? Hair club for men? A slob society? No? No? Well, sorry, I can't help you. See ya.
Wow! A karate chop to the coffee table (would have broken another 189 year old’s wrist), followed by the imminent throttling of Wilbur, something we have all wanted to do for years now. While I enjoy seeing Mary go all Miss Piggy on this despicable schlub, I doubt if extreme “snap out of it” is a valid treatment for depression.
2,594 comments:
«Oldest ‹Older 1601 – 1800 of 2594 Newer› Newest»Well! Wilbur seems to be experiencing a break from reality, and he’s just shoved Dick Van Dyke aside.
Well, if Dick Van Dyke can‘t swim, Hmmmm has a great idea for how Wilbur can save him.
If I had a dime for every comic strip that showed a piano falling from a third floor window, I'd be... Well, I'm not quite sure what I'd be doing but it wouldn't be sitting around reading Mary Worth every day.
That's it! Unbeknownst to Wilbur, he just saved Dick Van Dyke's life by pushing him out of the way of a falling piano.
He truly is a hero.
-- Scottie
hmmm and Scottie,
Great idea. What about a falling safe?
Well, Wilbur has joined the trend of attacking people on the street at random.
Thunderheels - Good one! Definitely a possibility! Hahaha... I'd forgotten all about the ones with the falling safe!
Will we get to see Wilbur arrested for assault? We can but hope.
Ooh, Mr. Van Dyke, such language! Would you kiss Mary Poppins with that mouth?
Wilbur sinks into a deeper funk after he has his lights punched out by an 85-year-old man.
-- Scottie
Nonagenarian Dick Van Dyke is about to get up and kick Wilbur's sorry butt!
Stating the obvious, Saturday’s strip is just a slight reworking of Friday’s strip.
RIP, trash can.
For a moment yesterday, I thought Moy was going to the dark side and we were going to see a crushed Van Dyke. But no....more accidental heroism for Wilbur. The joke (in Mary Worth? Ha!) is that Wilbur could be a hero to anyone, person, animal or thing.
Wouldn't it be ironic if the driver of the car swerved to miss Dick Vandyke and got a minor injury in the process?
So much for our hero Wilbur.
Glad Mr. Van Dyke is okay and remains surly, but how did that crashed car ended up on the sidewalk which appears to be blocked by a line of undisturbed trees and parked cars.
@Frank Booth. What? Something in Mary Worth doesn't look real!!
Looking back at the strip, that is one tough trash can to be able to demolish a car so thoroughly!
And Wilbur's next interview for his "I Shouldn't Be Alive" blog is with Oscar the Grouch.
Wilbur’s next outing is to blow off steam at Santa Royale Fun Park. He loves to drive those bodacious bumper cars. Unfortunately it’s Nuns, Orphans, and Veterans’ Day at the Park. Horror and near-tragedy ensues.
Somewhere, an unsuspecting Megan feels an inexplicable cold shudder run up her spine. Alarmed, she wonders, "What on earth caused that?"
-- Scottie
A perfect match. Wilbur has an aquarium. Ok, a fish tank. Amazing how Megan looks a lot like Dawn.
Finally, Wilbur finds his perfect match! Unfortunately, in a tragic auto accident, Megan was killed yesterday while attempting to avoid hitting an old man in the street. Although bumping over a trash can slowed her vehicle somewhat, it was not enough to avoid the fatal outcome of smashing into the side of a concrete wall.
Who wants to bet that "Megan" is a 60 year old, balding fat man? Oh, wait! That is the perfect match for Wilbur.
I'm Meagan . . . I work in advertising as a writer . . . which is where I learned to use ellipses indiscriminately. . . I like long walks at Piccadee Falls, boxing, and travel to inland South American cities that somehow have an oceanfront beach. . . I'm looking for a fat balding loser who so fancies himself as a chick magnet that he wears Speedos in public . . . If you're interested, click on this perfectly safe link . . .
-- Scottie
Meagan can't even force herself to make direct eye contact with Wilbur.
I wonder where Wilbur found a photograph that didn't look like him? Run Meagan! Run!
I'm curious. I wonder if it's Wilbur or Auntie June who doesn't know that a proper gentleman rises when a woman approaches their table.
hmmm
Wilbur, a proper gentleman, surely you jest!
Thunderheels... What was I thinking?
Wilbur seems to be wearing his bathrobe for his date.
"Waiter!"
"Yes ma'am?"
"Hit me again. Keep 'em coming."
-- Scottie
Not to mention that I have a lot of failed relationships to tell you all about too!
TMI, Wilbur. Next tell her that she looks like your daughter, only older and with a better haircut.
Meagan thinks: I should have listened to my friend, Estelle, when she warned me about online dating. I can't wait to tell her about this schmuck.
Heh. I wonder if Wilbur will tell her the "adventure story" where he had a tantrum on a cruise ship, got hammered, fell off the ship, and forgot to tell his daughter that he was alive for over a week. I'm sure this lady will be impressed by that one!
He could also tell the story of dumping his girlfriend for a hot Colombian lady and then finding out she was a scammer.
Whew! I’m glad he mentioned that the goldfish were at home. I was a bit concerned that the big ol’ brown thang on his fork was a deep-fried bit of either Stelland or Wilburina.
I find myself still wondering if Meagan is a scam artist. If she isn't, why doesn't she just pretend that her phone vibrated, answer it and high-tail it outta there.
But, it is kind of pleasant to watch, knowing that Wilbur is gonna get some of what he deserves, one way or the other.
I just had a dreadful thought. This isn't going to turn into another act of heroism, is it? Like Meagan choking on a piece of that dog food or whatever it is they're eating, and Wilbur saves her with the Heimlich maneuver? The difference now, obviously, is that he actually performed a heroic act.
Well to be fair, the better part of their bill is probably all the alcohol that Meagan guzzled down to get through the date.
Okay, everybody in America, all those who don't keep their credit card in their wallet, raise your hand. . . . Annnnd that would be no one.
Jeez, KM couldn't come up with a single plausible circumstance?
-- Scottie
If the point is to portray Wilbur as a comic schlub, but we all love him and laugh with him as we laugh at him…it ain’t working.
Many of us are annoyed. I’m tending toward homicidal, myself.
@fauxprof and Scottie: too right! This begs belief. Even Wilbur couldn't be this clueless.
Perhaps Dick Van Dyke snatched Wilbur’s wallet before he was pushed into the street?
True Story: When I proposed to my wife at the jewelers, I had left my wallet at home. She had to put the downpayment on her engagement ring. We've been married 26 years.
There won’t be a next time for Meagan, but there will be, unfortunately, for us, exiled as we are in the darkest corner of the Worthiverse. Thank heavens I’m not alone.
Please tell me this improbable relationship will not be saved by the old guy Wilbur inadvertently saved showing up to praise Wilburman… Don’t fall for it, Megan. And make Wilbur pay you back for lunch!
Meagan, what do you mean "if"? Remember the wise words of Maya Angelou; "When people tell you who they are, believe them". Run Meagan, run!
Is Meagan implying that if it hadn't been for the credit card thing, there would have been a next time?
Cute story, RobC - At least you know she wasn't after you for your money.
@Meg
Quick cut to Dick Van Dyke living it up and using Wibur's credit card:-)
Dick is fondly reliving the date he had with Estelle on 2/26/2019 (Mary Worth 3074).
I had a date like this recently. At least the guy paid, but when he made a date with the waitress I left.
Oh, Wilbur, she’s not IN to you. She’s ON to you. Big difference, buddy.
Cicero was too right about this. But what is going on? Is that Meagan kissing that other guy?
Maybe Wilbur will turn around, but he seems pretty laser focused on that (free) dinner roll.
Minutes later, the waiter approaches Wilbur and asks, "You like apples?"
-- Scottie
New theory. KM hates Wilbur as much as we do, and takes a certain malicious pleasure in humiliating him.
A perfect visual of the essence of Wilbur: totally clueless, totally self-absorbed. Meagan hitting on the waiter, doesn’t really change anything: Wilbur was always on date with only Wilbur.
@fauxprof; you may be on to something. I'm kind of impressed by Meagan. She's quite resourceful and is certainly making the best of the situation. Lemonade, anyone?
Now you must ask yourself, Wilbur, why did she abandon you? Until you can answer that question we are all doomed to having to read about your lonely and abandoned self. By all means, go ask Mary.
Meagan already knew the kissable waiter; she was surprised to find him there. But…he is the son of her best friend, and he’s 25 years younger than Meagan. She’s a cougar!
Ha haaaa, Wilbur's tired of people. Hey, Willie, the feeling's mutual.
-- Scottie
And people are tired of you, Wilbur. Go with the synergy.
Mary: “…Maybe he’s busy. But just in case he’s not, I’ll go over and yack yack yack at him all afternoon. And if he is busy, I’ll tell him how to do whatever he’s doing…(Sigh…)…Life is good.”
Is that a remote in Wilbur's hand or Meagan's credit card that he swiped?
I think we must be getting to the part where Dawn and her mother fly in to check on Wilbur, and rescue him if need be.
Make the world go away
And get it off my shoulders
Say the things you used to say
And make the world go away
I wonder if this is going to evolve into a story about people sinking into a depressive state and being encouraged to seek therapy and treatment. It would give Mary a prime opportunity to be the encourager (not gonna say meddler), and make us feel guilty for dunking on Wilbur.
It would have more impact as a PSA it the protagonist were Dr. Jeff, someone we already feel empathy for, and not (yechh) Wilbur.
fauxprof - I have the same feeling that we're looking at another one of KM's PSAs. I think you're probably correct in that it will be about loneliness and depression. My thought was that KM would be teaching us how to handle isolation. She's just read a news article about something called "COVID" and wants to warn us about it.
Wilbur looks like he's about to eat those poor fish.
And Wilbur kills off the only two friends he has in this world by overfeeding them. How apropos.
He’s begun to neglect the combover. We’ve reached crisis status. Can Mary and her emergency muffins get there in time?
(On a side note…what do you suppose Mary would sing at Karaoke? Something popular in her youth, like A Bicycle Built For Two?)
@fauxprof -- Ha haaaa, good one!
-- Scottie
I love it when June gives us another goldfish-eye view of wibbly-wobbly water Wilbur.
Coming up next: Wilbur decides to go swimming with his friends in the Charterstone pool.
Belly up to the bar boys; belly-up, belly-up.
Although I recognize the importance of proper punctuation, I immediately read the first panel without the comma, and it made sense.
Any minute now, the heroic Dr. Ed Harding will break down Wilbur’s door, heroically rush to the fish tank, and heroically attempt to save Stellan and Willa, as he shouts, “MY GOD, MAN WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM? DID YOU OVERFEED THEM?”
fauxprof: eats, shoots, and leaves?
I’m hoping this ushers in one of June’s hallucinatory dream sequences or, given the state of Wilbur, more likely, just plain hallucinatory sequences.
I have some specialized information about reviving goldfish, and if you’re interested, send me $19.95 and a self-addressed envelope. No? Okay, I’ll tell you.
One night I went into my son’s room to turn down his bed. I happened to glance over at the fish tank. One fish was swimming lazily around. But the other fish had flopped out of the tank and was lying limply on the floor! I decided to place him back in the tank and let my husband ‘discover’ and deal with him later, a decision of a type that will be understandable to married women.
I eased Henry gently back into the tank, and he floated on the top of the water. The other fish came up to him and blew air into his gaping mouth. Suddenly, Henry shrugged, then swam rapidly in circles! And lived several more years.
I also read that Dame Judi Dench once gave her fish mouth to mouth breathing. So, Wilbur, sober up and kiss those fishies!
Will Wilbur go to the pet store to buy a new fish, and meet someone who also loves fish?
Or will the other fish {Willa?} die of loneliness and leave Wilbur in deep depression?
Will the heroic Dr. Harding arrive in time to revive Stellan? Will Dame Judi Dench?
Will Wilbur decide on kippers for breakfast?
Stay tuned for this action packed adventure.
When I was a kid, I tried staring down my goldfish to see who'd blink first. Then I realized fish don't have eyelids.
I rather hope that Mary will do the rescue breathing. That’s a cartoon I yearn to see.
Wilbur’s very best Brando impression— thank you, Karen! I’ve been waiting so long.
Oooooooh..... Not as good as his DiCaprio when falling off the Love Boat..
A Streetcar Named Rejection.
If we still had the Worthy Awards, we have a contender for Panel Of The Year.
(Wilbur sometimes brings out the best in KM and June. Totally off the rails!)
I am glad we weren't subjected to Wilbur screaming while wearing a sleeveless T-shirt.
No doubt Mary will hear that blood-curdling cry and rush down with one of her platitudes.
"Oh, Wilbur. You know what they say. If life gives you goldfish, make goldie-lox."
Yaaaaa! @hmmmm! Wonderful!
Thanks, MissScarlet!
So, fish death is going to rocket Wilbur back into connecting with living, breathing humans? Mary will have to break down the mountain of carryout boxes stacked against his front door in order to reach him, but as long as she follows the sound of him bleating "People, people who need people are the luckiest people in the world", I think we're good.
The last thing I needed this morning (or any morning) was the sight of Wilbur's lower half in his underwear.
@Miss Scarlet: it could have been worse. He could have been wearing his Speedo.
Oh, fer cri -yi, Wilbur, can’t you at least give Stellan the dignity of being interred in Mary’s rose garden!?
Hey, Wilbur could have saved that comment for the Sunday summary!
Flush him down the toilet?! How could you have even thought of doing something so disrespectful, Wilbur? Far more civilized to put him in an empty mayonnaise jar and throw him in the dumpster.
I have to admit...I find myself wondering how Mary feels about fish funerals. Would she attend? Would she officiate? Would she admit Stellan into her compost pile?
Will Wilbur find a fish casket? Will there be a choir? Or just karaoke? Will there be a eulogy? Will Mary call the local mental health officers?
Will the other animals of Charterstone attend the service? Pierre, Max, Greta, Libby, Chester… Who’ll cater the wake? Bum Boat, Jerry’s Sandwich Shoppe, Le Chien D’Amour… Will Chin Napkin be ‘repurposed’?
"You were always there for me."
Well where else could she have been? Sheesh!
-- Scottie
Wilbur never seemed particularly fond of Pierre. I bet he would have flushed him. Mr. Allora would NOT have been happy.
I don't pretend to know if fish can love or pass judgement. But I do know that Stellan had absolutely no choice but to "be there". I can easily imagine that if he could have chosen, he would absolutely have been anywhere else.
Wilbur: Don't make Allora unhappy. You won’t like Allora if he’s unhappy.
Not to be intrusive, but, has anyone (I know a lot of you live in Ohio) heard from KitKat lately? I hope, KitKat, that you have won on the latest gazillion dollar scratch ticket or whatever, and now are shopping for your Italian villa. Please let us know that you are okay and that we should be booking tickets for our vacations.
Good catch hmmmm. I hope all is well with KitKat.
Yeah, KitKat, we'd love to hear from you. Hope you're not on strike because this is another lame Wilbur story line.
-- Scottie
Stellan certainly looks to be sleeping comfortably. A piece in our newspaper last week mentioned that fish do not have eyelids.
The only explanation for this over wrought, mawkish display is that Wilbur has started drinking again.
KitKat! Hello!
Oh, no! It is just as I feared! This mawkish display will be the final appearance of Chin Napkin! Our beloved Chinnie has been starched, pressed, and pressed into service as Stellan’s shroud.
But he did have a good life. He’s been used to wipe marinara sauce off a bishop’s chin. He’s blotted the chins of saints and of knaves. He’s been (humiliatingly) thrown on the floor, sopping up beef gravy and being ground underfoot by the polished boots of under footmen. He served as a kerchief to be waved at departing troops as ‘our boys’ sailed off to the Spanish-American War, and George Washington once rested his wooden teeth on Chinnie after an evening spent at the Soldiers’ Ball in Morristown during that bitter winter of 1779-80.
Now Chinnie has been selected to render the last full measure of devotion to the fishy-smelling corpus of a minor-nay, MINUTE- non-speaking character who has only been resident at Charterstone since the Covid era. Chinnie was swabbing away Wilbur’s post-karaoke flop sweat when (so-called) “Stellan” was a mere fingerling.
Chinnie- I salute you and will remember you in my deep thoughts. “Stellan”- I will dine on your distant cousin this evening, avec buerre blanc. And with a PAPER napkin.
Anyone who get this attached to a fish has major issues to deal with.
Hello my Worthiverse friends! I am still in Ohio, not in Italy, and not playing the lottery. I’ve been dealing with anxiety issues for the past couple of months, which has knocked me for a loop. I am getting help and anticipating healthier days. I am so touched that I was missed. Thanks for your support, my friends!
I have continued to read MW, but Wilbur’s latest woes are so depressing.. Who’s worse off, Wilbur or KM? It seems to me we’ve crossed the line into Not Funny Territory.
KitKat, good to hear from you. You've been one of the bedrocks of our little group for a long time. Take care, and we all wish you well. Write when the spirit moves ya.
-- Scottie
KitKat, so relieved to see your comment this morning, but sorry to read the reason you've been sidelined. Best wishes for healing and happy summer days ahead. We'll look forward to seeing you back when you're ready to clobber KM again!
Glad to hear from you KitKat. I am sorry you are having some challenges. Remember you are part of a diverse family, that though scattered cares about each other.
Hi KitKat! So good to hear from you! I hope you feel better soon.
Well, I don't think the Swanson company or Ben & Jerry's have anything to worry about. Gotta wonder if Wilbur in a blur of grief might accidentally eat Stellan. Probably wouldn't even notice.
I just read the Comics Curmudgeon. Didn't copy! Honest!
Good to hear from you KitKat. We’ll bash Wilbur for you until you rejoin the fray!
Is this forshadowing? Will Willa bite the dust and Wilbur have to eat the fish food?
Will Wilbur make a matching box for Willa in the freezer? Will Willa get lonely in the acquarium? Will KM have a clue how to end this story?
Even the guy on the TV screen looks disappointed at Wilbur.
And the Wilbur Wallowing goes on and on…
Depression is a serious health problem, and a daily comic strip could be a viable platform to explore it. However, it’s hard to drum up sympathy for a character who is as clueless, despicable and downright hateful as Wilbur. I mean consider how disappointing it was to find out that he survived his plunge from the cruise ship.
The second fish would be likely to die in real life. I doubt that Wilbur did any water tests after the first fish died, and I doubt he does any partial water changes on the tank.
(I am an aquarium nerd).
"Busy professionals like myself." Ha ha, Wilbur made a funny.
-- Scottie
Sure, a busy, professional chip taster. That's believable.
BTW Wilbur, delivery people appreciate tips, so it would be nice if you answered the door.
@ Garnet, yes, I've been thinking the same.
@fauxprof, your comment yesterday was perfectly put - huzzah. Wilbur is so detestable, it’s well nigh impossible to have even a sliver of empathy for him. That excludes Mary, who has an inexplicable tolerance for him. I’m surprised she hasn’t broken down his door or climbed through a window in his apartment yet. Maybe this weekend she’ll bust her way in, armed with a container of Febreze. Wilbur hasn’t changed his clothes and must be emitting a ripe odor.
“After several weeks,” wouldn’t even Wilbur have more than stubble? He does appear to have a zipper below his chin in today’s p. 1; what is that?
Thanks again for your thoughtful messages to me, Worthiverse friends!
Good to see you out and about, KitKat! You've been missed! But one thing? Please do try to stay away from using the word "zipper" in context with Wilbur. I'm still cringing.
I thought the same thing about Wilbur's stubble. I think Auntie June has become nearly as lazy as KM and just couldn't be bothered to draw a beard.
@KitKat, I keep trying not to imagine how bad he smells by now. As for the stubble, perhaps he also has chin pattern baldness, which is a genetic thing I just invented to shore up my suspension of disbelief. It’s not very willing these days. Perhaps Mary will call the Santa Royale Constabulary to do a welfare check on Sunday.
I didn't think I could care less about Wilbur, but I'm finding his slide into depression and filth to be boring. It's not that I don't care about people in general, just Wilbur in particular.
Yea! KitKat! So glad you are here!
Wilbur's lost his enthusiasm for everything but Generic Chips. They're the only thing keeping him going.
-- Scottie
Mary: “I’ve been so busy trying to text and call Wilbur that I haven’t had time to bake. I’ll just take him something I bought at the big snack sale at Food Town. Now what would he like? (rummages through pantry) Ah, the very thing! Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Crackers- he’ll love these.”
Goldfish Crackers — you hit on the perfect munchie, meg!
That looks like an awfully uncomfortable position Wilbur has wedged himself into. I’m thinking Mary will enlist Mr. Alora to open Wilbur’s door somehow. A shocking sight awaits them.
Meanwhile, remaining fish Willa is furious that Wilbur seemingly forgot all about her. Then again, since Wilbur hasn’t fed her in weeks, she likely joined Stellan in the Great Fishy Beyond many days ago.
Mary has a master key for all the Charterstone condos. It’s in the HOA bylaws. She will, however, take Mr. Allora along, because it’s always good to have a witness to…whatever.
He’s got two goldfish that, for all intents and purposes, are just alike, yet somehow one of them is his favorite. So much his favorite that he’s left the other to starve. Well, he’s consistent in his Wilburing, and king of his own crumb-infested universe, at least until Mary meddles him back into some sort shape where he will have a soon to be forgotten epiphany.
Time to take my pet peeve out for a walk: "I wonder why" is not a question. It is a declarative sentence. The correct punctuation at the end of this phrase is a period, not a question mark. June must have been told this before. Why does she ignore it?
Meanwhile, Wilbur's mail must be stacking up and some of his bills are probably overdue, which will add to his ridiculous misery. Couldn't happen to a more deserving guy.
-- Scottie
Here she comes to save the day! Our Mary Worth is on her way!
(any one else remember Mighty Mouse?)
@Miss Scarlet, of course I remember Mighty Mouse! He was part of my 1950’s, black-and-white Saturday morning ritual. It also evokes footie pajamas and being allowed to eat my cereal in the living room as long as I didn’t spill.
Mr. Troubles never stays around
When Mary brings her muffins down.
And here’s a memory from my junior high days:
Our football team was known as the Mighty Mites, and their uniforms were red and yellow.
Before every game, a costume-wearing mascot would run around the track, cape trailing behind.
You can imagine what a fierce reputation our team had in the district, and we had a perfect season record- 10 games played, 10 games lost
My prediction: When Mary knocks on Wilbur’s door, he’ll chop a big hole in it with a pizza cutter, and shout, “HEEEEERE’S Wilbur!”
Scottie, I share your pet peeve. This incorrect punctuation always sets my teeth on edge. Maybe June’s contract does not include editing KM’s dialogue.
Stellan and Willa were siblings? I thought they were a romantic pair, like Wilbur fantasized that he and Estelle once were. Isn’t that why he gave them those names?
Oh, goody! Pop culture references. Which advances the plot better? If we go with The Mamas and the Papas, Wilbur starts doing drugs. If it’s The Shining, bloody mayhem.
Did you hear the one about the guy who bought some of John Phillip’s wardrobe at a thrift store? All the sleeves are brown, and the tie is gray.
fauxprof: Love that joke!
Wilbur: sob…Stellan…boohoo…waaaaaah
Mary: Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.
fauxprof,
Love the joke. Everyone is killing it today.
Killing it is in bad taste I guess. What would Wilbur think?
Never mind, no one cares what Wilbur thinks.
Of course, Wilbur doesn't have to dream of California, he could just go outside (although we are having a lot of gray May right now).
Wurtzel wrote Prozac Nation and about her own depression and substance abuse. Do chips count? Wilbur doesn't seem to have hit the bottle yet... I see Mary has been baking; can't be long now. What did he do with that pizza cutter?
OK - I keep marine fish and take good care of them. I get pretty attached to all my pets.
But this seems like an over-the-top response over the death of a goldfish? I've been very upset over the loss of a dog or bird but I don't think my fish see me as much more than a big thing that puts food in the tank. I don't like it when they die but I don't lose my mind. I will do some water tests when one dies to make sure there hasn't been a water quality problem.
Mary's usually eager to meddle but it's interesting that she hasn't done anything after not hearing from him for weeks. That would justify some sort of welfare check. I think she's lost her mojo too.
If the Charterstone Jukebox was still operational, this would be the day for “I Hear You Knocking” by Dave Edmunds.
She’s been knocking, but has Mary tried shouting? “Wilbur, it’s Mary! Open this door immediately! I’m armed with muffins!!”
Hoping to get a clearer sound, Mary whips out her stethoscope.
-- Scottie
Mary is Wilbur’s most supportive friend, she lives next door, yet she takes weeks to check up on him? His daughter hasn’t heard from him either, and presumably he still has an employer. Wilbur is so much despised by his circle, that I’m beginning to feel some grudging sympathy for him. It ain’t pathos, but bathos, which is all I can muster at this point.
I notice that while Mary is huddled listening to the door, she is also staying out of sight of Wilbur's peep hole. So, if Wilbur peeks out he won't see who is knocking. Maybe he will just turn the TV down and stop crunching chips and hope that the knocking goes away. I doubt that that will stop Mary. Does Mr. Allora have spare keys? He should, right? Now I'm hoping Wilbur won't answer the door.
On the other hand, maybe Mary will be able to smell him through the door.
Mary: Let me in!
Wilbur: Fine. Come in, I don't care.
Mary: Why so glum?
Wilbur: Stellan, my favorite fish died. I can't get over it.
Mary: Show me. (Walks over to the fish tank) That is Stellan! Willa must be the one who died.
Wilbur: Are you sure?
Mary: Yes, Stellan has a little mark on her fin. There it is.
Wilbur: Hallelujah! My darling is alive! I am taking a shower, shaving, throwing away a frozen fish, then off to Karaoke.
Mary: Such endearing qualities.
Weren't we in the middle of a "Why can't I be a hero?" story when all of a sudden, we now find ourselves fraught within a feeble forlorn fish fatality? KM, you need to focus. Focus!
Based on what I have read on the internet, I can only conclude, er, guess, what may be about to happen.
To wit: fish can appear to be dead, and then spring back to life if they have a source of oxygen.
To wit 2: fish can be frozen at the bottom of a pond over the winter, and then spring back in the spring.
If Mary knows this, she may be about to perform her most amazing act yet.
I will say no more.
Open the door, Wilbur
Open the door and let me in
Open the door, Wilbur
Wilbur, why don't you open that door?
I hear ya knockin’, but ya can’t come in.
Come back tomorrow night and try it again.
I’m here chilling with my fish and my chips,
Don’t need any of your ol’ lady lip.
My fish are fragile clowns'd should ve my fonal day)
(my fish are fragile clowns)
Howling dogs ain't great
(howling dogs ain't great)
I've waited for this knock
(I've waited for this knock)
On a splint'ry day
(on a splint'ry day)
I'd be fighting Kong
(I'd be fighting Kong)
If I found the apes
(if I found the apes)
Scowling fortress dreaming
(scowling fortress dreaming)
On such a splint'ry day
I get up and I lurch
And I wheeze and sway
Well, I look at all my sleaze
(look at all my sleaze)
And pretend dismay
(and pretend dismay)
You know, the meddler likes to scold
(meddler likes to scold)
She knows I'm not OK
(knows I'm not OK)
My fish are fragile clowns
(my fish are fragile clowns)
Howling dogs ain't great
(howling dogs ain't great)
There's nothing but to squawk
(there's nothing but to squawk)
On a splint'ry day
(on a splint'ry day)
I'd really like to tell her
(I'd really like to tell her)
Should be my final day
(should be my final day)
Scowling fortress dreaming
(scowling fortress dreaming)
On such a splint'ry day
(scowling fortress dreaming)
On such a splint'ry day
(scowling fortress dreaming)
On such a splint'ry day
Sorry extraneous material got added to the 1st line, which of course should end with the word "clowns".
Meg, no I'm evidently not on the right blog for my material because I don't really have the sensibility of a Snarker, but there's no where else where people would know a lot about Wilbur and Mary, so I thought I'd try and insert this parody here (and the Comics Curmudgeon). I didn't think it was so different than the parodies Mr. Tice creates.
But I can keep this sort of contexted exercise to myself, if that's preferable, and stick to sending my earnest poetry to the right places. But somehow people liked my first parody attempt here years ago (based on M.W. and "Bird on a Wire") so I thought
maybe this might be pleasing too. I'll show myself out--and offer good wishes to everyone here, but easy on the mayo!
Baffled: extra mustard, please.
Meg
Oooh, Mary has her hands on her hips. Wilbur, you’re in for it now!
@fauxprof -- Yep.
"Wilbur Nimrod Weston, you open this door this instant!!!"
-- Scottie
She who must be obeyed! You're in trouble now, Wilbur!
No, Wilbur, no!
As a direct descendant of Vlad Drakul, Mary cannot pass the threshold of a hallowed home uninvited, but once granted entry her meddling grasp will be unshakable. I prophesy weeks of wide-eyed, gaspy judginess as Mary takes inventory of every single discarded TV dinner before finally prescribing a trip to Karaokeland.
I had really wanted to see *much* more spiraling. It should have involved Mary too, as deprived of her daily meddle she sinks into a spiral of manically baking muffins and Kelk squares, their uneaten husks piling up around her, grimy cowl-neck sweater daubed with sweat and salmon grease.
And even Dawn, now living in her mom’s basement and banging out increasingly unhinged Reddit posts about how everyone reminds her of Jared, who in turn reminds her of Dave. Life is brutal Karen, and don’t you forget it!
Mary's so shocked even her purple sweater has turned pale!
Mary is easily shocked. Except for two days of stubble, that's how Wilbur always looks.
Once again, I just now read the Comics Curmudgeon. Didn't copy! Honest!
The crabgrass growing out of Wilbur’s head can only mean one thing: he’s been gargling with Miracle Gro again.
Tomorrow: “For heaven’s sake, Wilbur, open your windows before the stench suffocates me!”
@Kitkat That made me laugh!
@KitKat - not only am I impressed that Mary isn't gasping for air. I am also amazed that she didn't burst out laughing when Wilbur told her his fish died.
Mary is aghast when she spots dozens of her uneaten muffins rotting on the kitchen counter.
-- Scottie
An article about Karen Moy on the Daily Cartoonist
https://www.dailycartoonist.com/index.php/2024/05/30/karen-moy-and-20-years-worth-of-mary/
“My seaworthy son”? Imagine Dawn watching this. Mary’s platitudes and baked goods aren’t going to be enough in this case.
RobC, thanks for posting the link. I learned more about KM’s background.
I dig the “pet parent” thing, I really do. When talking to countless pets over the years, I have referred to myself as Mommy. But I never called a cat or dog my son or daughter. And, Wilbur? Goldfish are not at all seaworthy. Salt water is not their natural habitat.
I hope she doesn't think that karaoke can fix this.
This is pathetic. I can only hope that someone will tell Wilbur the truth. Stellan hated his guts.
Mary, no worries as to handling Wilbur. Once that palm tree in p. 1 crashes in, comforting Wilbur will be the least of your problems.
If the death of a goldfish reminds you that you are single, you may have other things to worry about.
Oh boy. I hope Mary doesn't just recommend something mundane like karaoke or a walk in the park.
She should tell him: "you need some help. But a regular psychiatrist couldn't even help you. You need to go to like, Vienna, or something. You know what I mean? You need to get involved at the university level. Like where Freud studied, and have all those people looking at you and checking up on you. That's the kind of help you need. Not the once a week for eighty bucks. No, you need a team. A team of psychiatrists working round the clock, thinking about you, having conferences, observing you. Like the way they did with the Elephant Man."
Paging...Dr. Sweater-vest. Emergency!
"Maybe you should try a new dating site."
"Mary, I've already tried 43 of them! The only ones I haven't tried are for gay men."
"Well, let's not close any doors, Wilbur."
-- Scottie
Scottie, you won the interwebs yesterday with your comment, hahaha.
If Mary starts off by telling Wilbur he’s a successful journalist, we’ll all bang our heads against a table. We never see him writing furiously and submitting articles. What happened to him traveling the world to interview survivors of natural disasters? He should have lots of opportunities for that. The only thing he seems to succeed at is having an income stream that allows him to remain at Charterstone with apparently no financial concerns.
Here she goes again. Telling Wilbur how wonderful he is with absolutely no evidence to back it up. Has he ever done anything for her? Is he amusing? (not in a cringy way). Is he good looking? (No!). Is he even nice? (Not often). What is Moy's point?
Maybe it is actually about Mary not failing at giving advice and 'saving' someone. Hmm....that make more sense; it's not any more believable, however.
So, Mary has a book and Wilbur’s (I assumed aggregated) score contained within it is somehow high enough to make him a “winner.” If everyone is a “winner,” Mary, then the term loses all meaning.
(Maybe she meant whiner?)
I got nothing. Maybe Mary can call Mr. Allora to shovel out the place, after he frogmarches Wilbur into the shower, clothes and all. In the meantime, she can get in touch with Dr. Sweatervest to make an emergency house call. Or, she can find a nice chest freezer for Wilbur and the fish.
I can't help noticing that whatever depressive episode has befallen Wilbur, it hasn't affected his appetite. Most of the detritus in his apartment is from food boxes.
Is that Saturday’s pizza, or Thursday’s pizza? No matter, it’s probably still good. It doesn’t have ants yet.
@KitKat -- Thanks!
@fauxprof -- Ha haaa, I had the same thought. How long have all these pizzas been laying around?
Maybe Mary should try a different tack and try to persuade Wilbur to join her in enjoying the less-complicated celibate life.
-- Scottie
Mary can't give up. It would ruin her reputation. On the other hand, if Wilbur dies from food poisoning then it won't be her fault. That pizza is very, very old.
The first panel with the doves has GOT to be a repeat! Where is Wanders when we need him? LOL
And what is it with the doves?! Maybe one of the doves will agree to be Wilbur's pal. He could name it Stella Livingston Dovesworth in an effort to replace the fish, which, had the bird seen it, would have definitely been a tasty afternoon snack.
How soon does Mary finally snap? No matter what she says Wilbur will still wallow in self-pity. I hope she goes ballistic and starts slapping the snot out of him.
Of course, this will never happen.
She will, as usual, wear him down.
Mary, you're getting nowhere trying to TELL Wilbur how great he is. It's not working. Your only recourse is to SHOW him how desirable he is.
And let's just leave it there. No need to get descriptive, since many breakfasts are still being digested.
-- Scottie
Gluttony. June really got Wilbur as one of the Seven Deadlys in that last panel. Actually, would be quite serviceable for Sloth as well.
So what do you think is on Wilbur's tee shirt? Oregano? bits of hot pepper? I'm voting for shards of noodle left over from a previous day's Chinese takeout. Arfully done, JB, especially with the cross-hatched bathrobe and pillow cradling Wilbur's greasy head. Ewww...
How about joining a group of aquarium enthusiasts? Obesity anonymous? Hair club for men? A slob society? No? No? Well, sorry, I can't help you. See ya.
Hey, Thunderheels. Nice job! You weren't far off!
I'm not sure that reminding someone that of the only three friends he has, one is his daughter, and another is a goldfish, is such a good idea.
Wow! A karate chop to the coffee table (would have broken another 189 year old’s wrist), followed by the imminent throttling of Wilbur, something we have all wanted to do for years now. While I enjoy seeing Mary go all Miss Piggy on this despicable schlub, I doubt if extreme “snap out of it” is a valid treatment for depression.
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