Oh, now I understand. This isn't about coaching Lynn to win the championship ice skating game. It's about Frank turning Mary Worth into a fan.Today's Full Strip
Oh, now I understand. This isn't about coaching Lynn to win the championship ice skating game. It's about Frank turning Mary Worth into a fan.











"Old Friend" is what I call someone when I can't remember their name. It's a little social trick I've been using since the ninth grade. "Hello, old friend, it's so good to see you once more." "I admire your turtleneck, old friend." "What is your Donkey Kong high score, old friend?" It really works well, and helps avoid any social awkwardness.
That lady with the black hair? The most unfortunate airline passenger of all time. If she turns her head at all forward, it's over. The meddling will begin.
Okay, I get it. The clouds look like waves. But, really, how does Mary come up with this kind of wisdom? It seems to be some kind of quote, from some wise, wise person, but really I think she's quoting herself. Only Mary could notice that waves ebb and flow, like progress. Except, of course, when they're ebbing. Which would be more like the opposite of progress.



Jeff passively gives Mary Worth permission not to invite him along for a romantic trip to Lake Placid Tranquil by indicating he can't travel to see Drew in Vietnam because his knees are acting up. Mary's all, like, "Whatever. I'll have to wait ten minutes in a security line before I spend the week with my friend Frank Griffin in the Adirondacks."
But the last time we visited the Santa Royale International Airport, TSA was no where to be seen.
That's right, Jeff, and if ever anyone exemplified the Prime Directive, it's your girlfriend, Mary Worth. Now she's off to Lake Tranquil for a weekend of skiing with a "friend" and non-interference.
Please, for the love of nondescript meat and bleached peas, let this not be a Drew Corey story! Please let it be a Mary Worth road trip story. Anything but a Drew Corey story! I was just about to throw in the towel on Mary Worth during the identity theft public service announcement, but I have been so excited to see Mary hit the road in this new adventure. Now they have to bring up Drew Corey?? If this turns into a Jeff goes back to Vietnam to check up on Drew story, I'm going to reject Mary Worth the way Jeff rejects a second helping.
Speaking of "Old Haunts," Mary looks quite ready for Halloween. Goth suits her.
No, Jeff, she's not a dog. Frank is her "Coach." But why don't you nip this one in the bud and just take Mary to a Weepies concert, or have you forgotten already what this is really all about? Here's a simple reminder:
You know who else is sorry to hear that? Jeff Corey.
Oh, sure, Jeff will have no problem with this suggestion. He had a cow when Mary appeared in the paper with a two-bit town councilman. Why would he have a problem when Mary appears on NBC Sports with a celebrity coach at Lake Tranquil, one of the most romantic spots on earth?
And those who can't teach, teach gym... that was the complete expression as I recall. However, I'm not sure it is one Mary approves of, and I hope that she won't let it stand unchallenged. Wouldn't it be awesome if this story developed into The Battle of Clichés?
"In fact, I'm so blatantly obsessed with my daughter's success that I didn't even notice my computer getting swiped right out from under my nose."
"Frank, this is Mary Worth. You need to put your computer monitor up on a phone book or something or you're going to give yourself some terrible neck problems. You don't want to herniate a disc. If you have any questions, please speak to Terry Bryson on the third floor. She knows a lot about computers."
Road Trip!!
Ol' Whatsizname has gotta be ready to hit the ceiling by now. Wait... Jeff? That's right, his name is Jeff.
"I haven't seen him for ages. Not since just after I bought this black & white television set."
You know, I don't care how sickening Ian and Toby's private conversations are. Today I wept for joy when I learned that they already had "followed up with all the the actions they tell you to do." (I'm not sure the linguistics and pedagogy lecturer approves of that sentence.)
Well, I guess we can look forward to the next three weeks of Toby repeating everything Terry said.
Considering how they never have had anything remotely resembling a real conversation, I'm not sure that's very reassuring.
"My dear, sweet, stupid, stupid wife. Of course I still respect you... nearly half as much as I respect my colleague. I know how much that must mean to you. After all, my respect is what matters most. Now where's my dinner? And why isn't the kitchen re-tiled?"
I agree. Chicago is a great city (as anyone who was reading this blog last May when Donna Amalfi died knows). And I'm sure that the conference was definitely better than the goings on here in Santa Royale. But you don't want to trip over that low bar.
What ever's necessary? Then you had better start tiling fast. There isn't much time since you wasted the entire week worrying about identity theft.
Dear Dream Diary,
One day, I came to a bridge. As I began to cross it, I noticed my boat was rocking. How peculiar, I thought. I don't remember being in a boat. Suddenly, the train exploded down the line. "What train?" I asked out loud. "The metaphor train," Mrs. McGovern, my ninth grade English teacher answered from her grave. "Try as it might, it just can't seem to leave the station." But that's water under the bridge. Hey, we've come full circle!
My favorite radio program? Delilah, of course. I'm sure she's on a radio station near you, and you can find out by visiting Delilah.com. Whenever I'm out with my family, we tune in and the kids just laugh and laugh at the callers, who phone in with some sort of story about how their boyfriend broke up with them eleven months ago, but they love him so much and they're hopeful they can still work it out. And then Delilah tells them to get over it and thank God for their blessings and then plays an Air Supply song for them. I tell my kids to shut up and not laugh because she's a do-gooder fixing everybody's problems and the world needs more do-gooders. Sounds like a familiar old meddler we all know and love, doesn't it?
Dear Dream Diary,