"DAWN NEEDS YOU! . . . Well, okay, not really. . . . But WILLA NEEDS YOU! And I NEED YOU . . . sorta, kinda, ish. . . . Let's see, who else? . . . Um, have I mentioned WILLA NEEDS YOU?"
An immortal line from Moonstruck. Too bad Mary didn't slap Wilbur, ala Cher. (@ thanks, Thunderheels). Mary is really skating on thin ice here. No one needs Wilbur, apparently, except Moy. And even then, only when she can't come up with another plot.
Wilbur definitely needs to be throttled. Although, I'm not sure what Mary's talking about. Dawn doesn't seem to need him, Mary did fine without him for weeks, and the fish would likely be better off in a new home.
However, in real life, demanding that someone snap out of their depression is a nasty thing to do.
Clearly, Mary’s extremely condescending form of “comfort” and @$^#-eating grin are only making Wilbur feel worse. And who can blame him? (Me. I can blame him. For everything.)
When are we gonna bring the plotline back around to Wilbur’s hidden superpower of carelessly knocking people onto the pavement and somehow obliviously rescuing them in the process? (Very soon, if I know Karen). C’mon Wilbur, the goldfish needs you! The people you haven’t met who you’re going to jostle carelessly onto the sidewalk need you! Snap out of it!
Whoa! That's a lot of stuff Mary is trying to sell. I know some people do believe that they were born because of a specific purpose. But a God who looks out for Wilbur, even making sure that when he's drunk and falls off a cruise ship but doesn't drown...that's a bit much. It's kind of late to be making a case for Wilbur to be useful, isn't it? Unless, of course, it's for us to make fun of him.
I do love the look of terror on Wilbur's face in Yesterday's strip. No doubt that look was smacked into him by Mary's "sudden move". Or maybe she was killing some of the ants that had crawled out of that pizza box. Either way, the murderous look she sent Wilbur's way seems designed to do more than simple shock treatments could produce.
Once upon a time, there was someone who used to do Mary Worth mock-ups. I wish I could remember the site. And I wish I knew how to do it myself. I'd have her smashing a 4 lb. rat climbing out of the pizza box.
Someone in the comments on Comics Curmudgeon occasionally does MW parodies. They don't have a website with a collection of them, just put them on Imgur or something. Go to the comments and search for Baja Gaijin to find them.
@hmmm there use to be someone helming the Mary Worth Remix, but I haven't seen it updated in a while. https://maryworthremix.tumblr.com/image/186605117104
Meanwhile --
The sun'll come out, bet your bottom dollar they'll be sun. Tomorrow! Tomorrow!
Yes, I agree @fauxprof. What music will they play? "Fish Out of Water"? "Fish Heads"? "Pray for the Fish"? Where will they bury it? Better ask Mr. Allora before you dig up the rose bed.
I once sang "You Are My Sunshine" at our guinea pig's funeral. I am available for events in the Cleveland area. Is it possible this story could get MORE inane? I didn't think so.
@KitKat, I think we all can imagine better scenarios than KM. I’m hoping Jeff has minimum standards and will make Wilbur clean up before hosting this excursion.
@KitKat -- It turns out that the Cleveland Plain Dealer ran the wrong strip yesterday. In the little author's box in the bottom right corner of panel three, you can see that the date is "6/23/24," which means we've got at least two more weeks of this dreck, and the stupid fish will still be with us.
I didn't notice the mistake yesterday either, but some people on Comics Curmudgeon pointed it out.
Is it too much to hope that as Wilbur is about to commend Stellen to his final resting place in the seas west of Santa Royale, a seagull swoops in and swallows what remains of the goldfish whole? That may not offer dignified closure, exactly, but it would give Mary the opportunity to dish out words o’ wisdom concerning the circle of life, the uncertainty of chocolate box contents, and so on. That stuff can frame almost any set of circumstances as cause for celebration. Of course, Wilbur’s set of circumstances are likely just outside that “almost any”.
Ooh! I love that we have a 2 week notice of what will happen in the future. A wake! Could be a pool party? Maybe? @Tiny fork; I love the seagull idea. How about a dolphin popping up to swallow Stellan? A tidal wave would be entertaining.
I like the idea of a gull swooping in to get the remains of Stellan. Wilbur could consider that the gull is helping him er.... deposit retribution on those who have done him wrong. That should be enough closure for anyone.
I can’t get over those flowers. Are they frozen? Did Wilbur glue plastic flowers on the box? If he floats the whole thing in the ocean will he choke a dolphin?
Thanks, meg, for the Dorothy Parker reference! Definitely a "fwow up" worthy plot here.. And Wilbur! So glad to see he's wearing a suit to a goldfish funeral. I'm still wishing we got to see the conversation between Mary and Jeff about this event.
As Wilbur reaches for the doorbell, the box slips from his other hand and hits the floor. Then Wilbur accidentally steps on it. He asks Mary for a butter knife to scrape Stellan off the bottom of his shoe.
That suit emphasizes Wilbur’s neck as being larger than his head. In a sense, he’s like Stellen, whose head just seems to widen out and become his body. Darn, now I’m picturing Wilbur morphing into a goldfish!
Wait a minute, no one else cares?! Does anyone else know? Other than Willa, of course. Did Wilbur make calls? Send out emails? Does he think he“s clairvoyant? Does he think Willa is clairvoyant?
A telephone rings in a mansion on Connecticut’s Gold Coast.
Wilbur: Dawn, may I please speak with your mother (my heartless ex-wife)?
Dawn: Hey, Ma, it’s Wilbur on the phone for you! (picks up the other phone to eavesdrop. Yes, Muffy still has a landline, and Dawn’s Princess phone is still in her old bedroom).
Muggy? Hahahaha... Thanks, Meg. That was my best laugh of the day after Scottie's portrayal of Wilbur cleaning Stellan off the bottom of his shoe. And also, quite timely, a prediction of the cruddy weather we're about to experience on the east coast.
hmmm…I did that deliberately. And BTW, it is not muggy on the Gold Coast of Connecticut today.
What will happen next? Only two, make that three, possibilities. 1. Stellan will be miraculously revived after he thaws out in qthe bait bucket of Jeff’s boat, 2. Wilbur will miraculously meet the perfect woman in the hall, a rich, not too attractive, not too smart, not too particular, widow. Who loves fish. 3. Nothing.
Everyone is dressed in formal funeral wear for a fish funeral. Suits and dresses for a boat ride. I wonder if one of the dogs will get seasick. Or which dog will mistake the dead fish for a dog treat. Did Mary even remember that Jeff is deathly allergic to dogs? I’m sure that a riotous good time will be had by all. Chinbeard and Toby are already drunk.
I don't think Jeff would allow a couple of slobbering dogs on his precious boat. I believe these "friends" of Wilbur's have shown up just for the wake. And, as someone over at Comics Kingdom suggested, they probably assumed it was for Dawn since she hasn't been seen in weeks. That, and the fact that Mary told them a teensy, weensy little fib, letting them think it was Wilbur's "child" who'd died. Wait till they find out Wilbur's son was a goldfish.
Has Wilbur ever even MET Saul and Eve? Old Man Wynter, I’ve never seen ya, And your wife is a total stranger, but your two mutts will just keep barkin’ along.
Toby and Ian thought that Wilbur was coming over for a beer, instead of WITH a bier. Jeff won’t show, so it’ll just be a short walk on the long pier- or vice versa.
And what climate is Ian dressing for? He looks like he’s auditioning for the role of Billy in Carousel.
Eve’s black bandanna is very tasteful. Looks like Chin Napkin with a quick dye job.
Officers from EPA, DEEP, PDQ, and SRPD were waiting at a dock near the dogs-permitted section of the SR boardwalk when an impossibly large yacht hove into view and dropped anchor this morning.
Following reports from several different civic-minded folks who reported that the yacht’s captain had been observed dumping a bucket of unknown material at sea, the ship’s skipper was taken into custody along with several of his passengers. Arrested were local physician and retired hospital bigwig Dr. Geoffrey “Jeff” Cory, Wilbur “Wilbur”Weston, a columnist for Paper, Adjunct Assistant Untenured Professor Ian Cameron, blonde claymation artist Victoria “Toby” Cameron, three random old people, and two dogs.
Cory was charged with crimes against ocean ecology, and the others were arrested for public drunkenness and interfering with arrest. The dogs were locked in the supply closet of the Bum Boat restaurant until the SRSPCA could arrive and take them to a shelter.
According to the police officers, one of the old people, whose name is being withheld, has turned state’s evidence and is telling all she knows about the incident, and about lots of other stuff as well. Wilbur Weston was placed on a 48 hour psych hold when he kept insisting that they were burying his son at sea, followed by a good half hour of Marlon Brando impressions. Beach goers complained that Weston kept shouting his “son’s” name over and over again. Ms. Cameron flirted charmingly with Detectives Poirot and Marple, and “Professor” Cameron kept shouting unintelligible words in an unknown language while guzzling from a large plaid covered flask which he plucked intermittently from his sporran, whatever that is.
All of the arrestees will be arraigned tomorrow at SRMC. They are currently being held on $2500 bail each, and the dogs will be available for adoption by good people with clean records. The yacht is being searched by Officers Cousteau and Closeau, and the contents of the ship’s bar are being analyzed by SRPD Chief Tracy.
What’s that, Toby? You couldn’t hear me over Wilbur noisily stuffing his face with muffins? I said: “GEEZ, THE THINGS WE’RE WILLING TO DO TO HELP WACKY NEIGHBORS LIKE WILBUR!”
I apologize, Toby, for not taking this fish funeral sufficiently seriously. To make amends I have composed a stirring final eulogy in the style of Robert Burns.
As much as a goldfish could be glad, Wee Stellan lived, altho' his days were few. Noo stand the neibours, feigning tae be sad, An' Wilbur's mournin', his fat hert brack in two.
Och, Wilbur, ye numpty! In this dull comic sphere, Where mirth's sae scarce, an' your life's gan agley, Ye hold a fishy funeral, complete with shoebox bier? It's nae wonder yer Tinder prospects languish dim and grey.
He croaks oot a dirge, his muffin'd lips aquiver, For the puir floatin' goldfish, now grown still an' cauld. When your best mate's a minnow, Fate will shuir deliver A life full o' Brutality untold.
Yet grieve on, dear Wilbur, for your wee finned relation, Let your tears mingle wi' that stagnant pool, For ye'll nae doubt find some new botheration, And some new sorry pickle, ye hapless, bumbling fool!
Does anyone remember Wilbur doing anything to help any of these people? To socialize with any of these people (except Mary)? To even talk to any of these people?
Wilbur interrupts his conversation with the Camerons when he sees Mary carrying a tray of muffins.
Wilbur: "Sorry, guys. Didn't mean to be rude but you know how it is. Good muffins go fast! But, hey, don't worry, I got you guys some too. It'll only take a minute to pull them out of my pants pockets. Oops. Maybe I should have left the wrappers on."
Eve: "Oh, Wilbur. How could we not sympathize with your loss? I remember when Max went missing during a thunderstorm how you came out in the pouring rain to help us look for... Now, wait a minute. I remember now. We asked you to help us, but you didn't want to get your combover wet.
But then when Greta was dognapped and Mary organized a search party, you were right there... Now, wait a minute. That's right. We asked you to join us, but you said you had to feed your fish.
It is a FISH, not a dog. These people are really too much.
Why didn't Wilbur bring the other fish, the one who's still alive, to engage in the festivities? That fish spent 100% of her time with the dead fish anyway and was far closer to it than Wilbur was.
Miss Scarlett: Our beloved Chin Napkin is playing character parts now, often with the help of cosmetic aids. The ‘bandana’ which Eve is wearing looks strangely familiar, does it not?
The scene: Cap’n Jeff’s mini yacht. From the record player, La Mer (Beyond the Sea) wafts slowly around the mini group of mourners…er, guests…er, those whom Mary has dragooned into attending (c’mon, Ian, a lovely day on the water, free, including cocktails)…
Wilbur steps manfully forward, prepared to bid his ‘son’ farewell and to slide him down the makeshift stairway to (fish) Heaven. Mary, where’s Stellan? I thought you had him, Wilbur! Ay niver hae him!
Max and Greta sit by silently, slight smiles on their faces. They are innocent, just enjoying the foolish commotion amongst the humans.
Cap’n Jeff adjusts his telescope and peers at the pier. “Good news, Wilbur! He’s on the dock, next to the ladder. We’ll head back now to pick him up (and you’ll pay for the extra fuel, you d——d nitwit!).”
The SS Customary Fees hoves to and heads back. Just then, a large seagull hovers over Wilbur’s son, and in a flash, Stellan belongs to the ages.
Wilbur: “Thank you so much, Mary for all you have done to help me in my time of need.” Toby: “Mary, we really appreciate the invitation; you’re so thoughtful.” Ian: Mary, thanks for the invite and the free bevy -top notch!” Saul and Eve: “Mary, thank you for helping us to at least temporarily escape the boring hellscape that is our daily life.” Jeff: “Mary, I’m so happy you asked me to assist in your life’s noble mission. Maybe later we can—“
Mary: “No, Jeff.”
Toby: “I know it’s a funeral and all, but wasn’t it kind of funny when the big bird flew away with the fish?”
"Ian, dear, please take it easy on the . . . ahem, refreshments. You don't want to get seasick. And I guarantee you, nobody else on that boat will want you to either. Remember the last time?"
But I am beginning to realize that we won’t ever get on that boat. Nothing but idle chit-chat about Wilbur and his ‘friend’ group. Lucy and the football once again…
I did have a thought about Estelle and her boyfriend showing up, thinking it was Wilbur’s funeral; Estelle faints when she’s told that they’ve been keeping him in the freezer for weeks to avoid spoilage. Now my heart’s just not into it…
There’s a message, here. I’m sure it is a deep and profound message. Unfortunately, my eyes have rolled so far back in my head that I am unable to perceive it.
Meanwhile, Jeff has gotten bored out of his gourd waiting for the burial at sea to begin and has embarked on a cruise with Ashlee, her friend Trixie, and a cooler of refreshments, liquid and other.
I want to hear Jeff hollering from Mary's bathroom:
"For crying out loud, Mary! You asked me to help you get rid of that stupid fish. What are you waiting for? Bring it on in. There's a water shortage you know. Why waste a flush?"
I’m hoping that when they *finally* get to Jeff’s new boat, he announces the trip will just be a few hours and, also, he’s finally named his boat, and it’s in honor of Wilbur’s fish! As they get underway, we see the name on the transom: “The Minnow.”
We're all in this together...my foot! All those people dropped by so they wouldn't alienate Mary. Never a good idea to get on Mary's bad side. Of course, Wilbur will never be on Mary's bad side. He's too needy and perfect for Mary's "help".
You mean the whole motley crew is not going on the boat ride? I was looking forward to Jeff going ballistic over the presence of the dogs given his deathly allergy to the critters. Oh, well, at least we can infer that he has no allergy to dead fish. Or in Mary’s case, cold fish.
Is the cruise going to end with a tactlessly suggested dinner at the Bum Boat? Is Wilbur so sensitive he’ll turn down a free meal. Waiting on tenterhooks…
The Bum Boat has undergone a change in ownership, and also a change in name. Hereinafter, the restaurant’s name will be “Le Bateau Hobeau”, and will feature classic French cuisine.
Jeff won’t need to start the engine. Wilbur and Mary churning through the same dialogue over and over (adding only few small variations) should be enough to get them a mile or two offshore.
We had a boat once. Sure, just a pontoon boat on a quiet inland chain of lakes, but never once did my husband ever pilot it in a suit and tie. Of course, we never had a fish funeral, either.
I recall a movie where some people were going to go out on an excursion. When they arrived all they saw were large yachts. They were quite excited. The captain of the outing met them and walked them to their boat. I was maybe twenty feet long with an outboard motor. I wonder if Jeff is setting them up?
Remember the Stepford Wives? (either one, actually). I'm thinking that Mary had Jeff "done". He seems to be on auto-pilot all the time. Maybe she had him cloned too, so is 'other half' is hard at work at the hospital. Which would also explain how he can afford that boat.
Okay, I think we’re done here. Fish funeral accomplished, Wilbur all fixed and ready to go back to being the self-centered jerk he’s always been, just reasonably cleaned up and in public again. The world awaits. Starting Monday, either a prolonged victory lap, or Mary will take on a new problem. Toby and Ian, perhaps? He was getting pretty snarky at the fish wake.
Stellan and Willa were siblings? Does that mean that Wilbur and Estelle also had a brother/sister relationship? I'm not sure if that makes me feel relieved or queasy.
I am SO relieved that Wilbur can finally move on from this situation. Dr. Jeff should receive some sort of compensation from Mary for making this fish funeral happen. Maybe just paying the fuel fee it must have cost Jeff to take this cruise. And PLEASE, let us not have to see Jeff and Mary review the event for the next week. One can hope.
So, Mary drove Wilbur from the wake to the boat, then afterwards, off to the Bum Boat with Jeff. But how did Wilbur get home? Did Mary drive him, with Jeff following behind, and then giving Mary a ride to the restaurant? Or did Jeff go to the BB and hold a table? Or did Mary, being her usual passive-aggressive self and insist on having her own car there so that Jeff didn’t get any ideas? This is how I fall asleep at night, worrying about Worthiverse transportation options.
Or was there a bus Wilbur might have taken? Or did he call an Uber? Uber driver to Wilbur: Hey, buddy, do you mind rolling the window down? It smells like dead fish back there…….zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…..
I guess that's supposed to be a wine glass in Mary's hand, but it looks to me more like it could be a microphone and I am imagining her breaking into some sort of Karaoke (theme song from "Flipper" anyone?). Stay well Kit Kat!
Hang in there, KitKat. You and fauxprof are the first two I remember "meeting" when I first came here. Your sense of humor is delightful, and I hope it can carry you when need be.
Predicting that the kids would go to the Bum Boat for their date is like guessing what color Mary would wear. Hardly a challenge! Where else would they go? Jeff is only allowed in Mary’s flat on holidays, and the last time she was at Jeff’s was when they were watching the fallen televangelist on television. That must have been about 12 years ago, and Jeff sneakily attempted to put his arm around Mary (04/05/2012, actually)! After that Mary decided to protect her reputation. The Bum Boat is Mary’s Safe Space.
Please perk up, KitKat. You keep me honest in this weird space, er, wise place.
Jeff is such a suck up. A REAL friend might have said to Mary. "OK, I indulged your mollycoddling of Wilbur this time, but the idea that a grown man needs a bereavement group to handle the death of a goldfish is a bridge too far even for you. If you're that hard up for a meaningful activity, Mary, I can arrange a few more days of book delivery for you at Hospital. Also, you owe me $1200 for the fuel cost of that "burial at sea" Just sayin' as a friend and all."
Oh my, is that why there’s no mail today? And if I hear loud noises tonight, it may not be thunder? Thank you, KM, I needed your helpful PSA to tell us that it’s freakin’ Fourth of July!
Thanks for your encouragement, my Worthiverse friends. It touches my heart and means so much!
On to today's strip: Mary and Jeff are the only ones watching the fireworks? Was the Bum Boat closed and they broke in? What deserted space is this? So many questions....
It's been more than 24 hours, and Mary and Jeff are STILL standing on the dock, talking about Wilbur. I think the fireworks are over until next year...
KM isn’t even trying any more. I wonder if she misses Wanders, too. Meanwhile, in other comics, the bully story in Rex Morgan is fairly interesting, Sophie might get eaten by a shark in Judge Parker, and SallyForth grows ever more surreal.
I am delighted to be traveling through this human adventure with you people. But I am not going through this with Wilbur. There has to be a line drawn some where.
@fauxprof: I'm guessing we will soon begin feeling sorry for the bully, since we are about to see his role model in action. Kinda wondering if maybe that weird wanna-be boyfriend didn't deliberately set up Sophie so he could 'save' her. I always read Sally Forth but most of the time I don't really get it. Although, I am kind of enjoying the mother running a poker palace.
Oh, joy, Dawn is back. If we’re in for several more weeks of Mary straightening her out, we’re going to have trouble dredging up any more snark. Can you get snarked out?
I will take a little Dawn distraction, however. She would be wiser to just accept Mary now as her Mother-In-Deed. That would save a lot of time, but probably not be as fun.
I’ll bet Dawn’s Mum suggested a nice girls’ day out, her treat. New haircut, mani-pedi, lunch, maybe a new outfit. Dawn immediately climbed up on her high horse, accusing Mum of trying to buy her, after abandoning her thirty some years ago. That should be good for another six weeks or so of Mary’s kind manipulation (muffins at no extra charge).
…and now I want a muffin. I have some very nice blueberry muffins, courtesy of Instacart and Giant Eagle, and they don’t come with platitudes.
fauxprof: Our New England supermarkets have such mundane names. I remember hearing of a Hinky Dinky chain in the Midwest, and I once heard of a Foody Doody. We don’t even have a Piggly Wiggly here!
@thunderheels: Yep! I think we have a winner. Dawn didn't fall any distance from the tree at all.
We have lots of choices; Trader Joes, Pavilions, Ralphs, Bristol Farms, Whole Foods, Amazon Fresh - we even have an Erewhon, but I've never been in it. Too posh for me. And I can't think of any with cute names.
For any reader to think that such an absurdly improbable conversation could ever take place between these two indicates that Karen Moy (1) has supreme confidence in her story-telling ability, (2) is utterly delusional, or (3) is a complete hack just grabbing an easy paycheck.
For any commenter to spend so much mental energy on this indicates that (1) he is a discerning and perspicacious observer of cultural touchstones or (2) he desperately needs a life, but cannot seek one because he enjoys the company here too much -- not that there's anything wrong with that.
Since Mary seemed to be able to ignite at least the appearance of positivity and empathy in Wilbur, I wonder whether she could meddle his ex into a better version of herself. If Dawn’s mother was in Charterstone, yes. Of course, she would! But since Wilbur’s ex is not part of Mary’s Local Neural Farm, she is, by default, irredeemable and thus fair game for trashing for a few days before we move on to something more interesting. And almost anything would be.
Nice use of "perspicacious", Scottie! Given that Wilbur's former girlfriends pretty quickly get that he is probably not going to fit into their "vision" of life, I wonder how long he was married to Dawn's mother. She sounds like she would have even less tolerance of Wilbur's antics than his girlfriends have had. Hard to believe they were together long enough for her to BECOME Dawn's mother. I'm sure liquor was involved. Yikes! Tawdry.
Indeed, the Comic Curmudgeon also pointed out how odd it seems that Wilbur's ex allowed him to come anywhere near her, and then agreed to carry the pregnancy to term. Maybe it was alcohol. Maybe he was different then? Nah, must have been the hooch.
On another note, Brigman looks to be doing a good job of showing Dawn holding chopsticks. Why can she do cell phones?
Friends, I guess we were all so enraptured with the fascinating story of a schlub and his fish that we completely overlooked the first anniversary of Wanders' last post on June 5.
We miss you Wanders, and we thank you for bringing us all together here and for letting us play in your yard while you're away. Hope all is well with you, your family, and, of course, your fish.
Well said, Scottie. Wanders built this community for us, and we miss him and wish him all the happiness, health and good fortune the world can grant. And, Wanders, if you check in from time to time just to see how we’re snarking (still family-friendly), you are always welcome! Love, Sarah/fauxprof.
Scottie, thanks for your post yesterday. I second your tribute and appreciation for our dear Wanders. I miss his remarkable humor and creativity; he was the founder of our feast. Wanders, thanks for the memories! All the best to you and your family, and all good wishes for a happy and fulfilling life.
Today's strip: We all know that instead of "I'm sorry" Dawn actually should be asking "Who's Stellan?" (or "What's Stellan?").
Thank you Scottie. So glad you remembered and marked the occasion so well. We miss you Wanders. We hope you are having your best lift with Ms. Wanders, your kids and grandkids. Stop by some time and say 'hi'.
I'm not sure what Mary is feeding those roses, but it appears to have also contributed to the appearance of a giant mushroom under the tree... And indeed, friends, it's hard to believe it's been a year of us being left on our own to snark unsupervised. Luckily you all are resourceful! And yes, M Wanders, for your inspiration.
Like everyone else, I miss Wanders terribly. I wonder, sometimes, if he'll ever return. Like Lola Delaney, I often step outside the backdoor and call, "Come back, Little Wanders, come back!"
Are Dawn and Wilbur free tonight? Of course they are. The few people Mary could scrape together for the fish funeral have had their Wilbur quota satisfied for at least a year, and Dawn has no friends at all.
2,314 comments:
«Oldest ‹Older 1801 – 2000 of 2314 Newer› Newest»"DAWN NEEDS YOU! . . . Well, okay, not really. . . . But WILLA NEEDS YOU! And I NEED YOU . . . sorta, kinda, ish. . . . Let's see, who else? . . . Um, have I mentioned WILLA NEEDS YOU?"
-- Scottie
An immortal line from Moonstruck. Too bad Mary didn't slap Wilbur, ala Cher. (@ thanks, Thunderheels). Mary is really skating on thin ice here. No one needs Wilbur, apparently, except Moy. And even then, only when she can't come up with another plot.
Wilbur definitely needs to be throttled. Although, I'm not sure what Mary's talking about. Dawn doesn't seem to need him, Mary did fine without him for weeks, and the fish would likely be better off in a new home.
However, in real life, demanding that someone snap out of their depression is a nasty thing to do.
Need a new hobby, Wilbur? How about taxidermy? Start small, with something like a… oh, I dunno, maybe a goldfish?
Any bets on how long Moy can string this out? Can we continue to wring snark out of it? In both cases, it’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it.
Clearly, Mary’s extremely condescending form of “comfort” and @$^#-eating grin are only making Wilbur feel worse. And who can blame him? (Me. I can blame him. For everything.)
When are we gonna bring the plotline back around to Wilbur’s hidden superpower of carelessly knocking people onto the pavement and somehow obliviously rescuing them in the process? (Very soon, if I know Karen). C’mon Wilbur, the goldfish needs you! The people you haven’t met who you’re going to jostle carelessly onto the sidewalk need you! Snap out of it!
SOB!
The way Mary is rolling her eyes in panel two, I don't think she believes the baloney she is spreading.
Whoa! That's a lot of stuff Mary is trying to sell. I know some people do believe that they were born because of a specific purpose. But a God who looks out for Wilbur, even making sure that when he's drunk and falls off a cruise ship but doesn't drown...that's a bit much. It's kind of late to be making a case for Wilbur to be useful, isn't it? Unless, of course, it's for us to make fun of him.
I do love the look of terror on Wilbur's face in Yesterday's strip. No doubt that look was smacked into him by Mary's "sudden move". Or maybe she was killing some of the ants that had crawled out of that pizza box. Either way, the murderous look she sent Wilbur's way seems designed to do more than simple shock treatments could produce.
Yesterday's Marypocalypse was the best. No notes!
Once upon a time, there was someone who used to do Mary Worth mock-ups. I wish I could remember the site. And I wish I knew how to do it myself. I'd have her smashing a 4 lb. rat climbing out of the pizza box.
Someone in the comments on Comics Curmudgeon occasionally does MW parodies. They don't have a website with a collection of them, just put them on Imgur or something. Go to the comments and search for Baja Gaijin to find them.
And we slog on, stepping in the same muck every day.
-- Scottie
@hmmm there use to be someone helming the Mary Worth Remix, but I haven't seen it updated in a while. https://maryworthremix.tumblr.com/image/186605117104
Meanwhile --
The sun'll come out, bet your bottom dollar they'll be sun. Tomorrow! Tomorrow!
“I have a suggestion…flour lightly, sautée in butter, and serve with just a squeeze of lemon. Problem solved!”
We’re gonna have a fish funeral, aren’t we? Any chance it can double as a pool party? Better we just go with meg’s idea.
Yes, I agree @fauxprof. What music will they play? "Fish Out of Water"? "Fish Heads"? "Pray for the Fish"? Where will they bury it? Better ask Mr. Allora before you dig up the rose bed.
But what will they serve the guests at the ‘after party’?
I once sang "You Are My Sunshine" at our guinea pig's funeral. I am available for events in the Cleveland area. Is it possible this story could get MORE inane? I didn't think so.
Wait a minute, what happened to yesterday's wake with friends, muffins, and Chinbeard being a jerk? Was that a fantasy or a mirage?
Oh sure, Jeff will host a burial at sea for a goldfish. That'll be right after he asks Mary "Who's Wilbur?"
@KitKat, I think we all can imagine better scenarios than KM. I’m hoping Jeff has minimum standards and will make Wilbur clean up before hosting this excursion.
@KitKat -- It turns out that the Cleveland Plain Dealer ran the wrong strip yesterday. In the little author's box in the bottom right corner of panel three, you can see that the date is "6/23/24," which means we've got at least two more weeks of this dreck, and the stupid fish will still be with us.
I didn't notice the mistake yesterday either, but some people on Comics Curmudgeon pointed it out.
-- Scottie
Is it too much to hope that as Wilbur is about to commend Stellen to his final resting place in the seas west of Santa Royale, a seagull swoops in and swallows what remains of the goldfish whole? That may not offer dignified closure, exactly, but it would give Mary the opportunity to dish out words o’ wisdom concerning the circle of life, the uncertainty of chocolate box contents, and so on. That stuff can frame almost any set of circumstances as cause for celebration. Of course, Wilbur’s set of circumstances are likely just outside that “almost any”.
Ooh! I love that we have a 2 week notice of what will happen in the future. A wake! Could be a pool party? Maybe? @Tiny fork; I love the seagull idea. How about a dolphin popping up to swallow Stellan? A tidal wave would be entertaining.
Thank you, Scottie. I have to examine things more closely. I should have known something was kaflooie!
Now is Wilbur's chance to shower and shave. Let Mary clean the apartment. Two birds...so to speak!
I like the idea of a gull swooping in to get the remains of Stellan. Wilbur could consider that the gull is helping him er.... deposit retribution on those who have done him wrong. That should be enough closure for anyone.
"Thank you, Mary. It'll be great to have you come every Tuesday to clean!"
St. Mary saves the day. All better now.
Unseen panel three, Mary can't hold it in and breaks into uncontrollable laughter after complimenting Wilbur's looks.
"Mary, you missed a spot."
"Excuse me. What did you just say?"
"I said you missed a spot. Right there under the couch. That big chunk of pork fat. Guess I hacked it out."
"BANG, ZOOM, TO THE MOON!!! "
-- Scottie
Nice illustration of a garbage bag, JB!
"Yes, I'll ring your doorbell in the morning."
WHAT?????
-- Scottie
I don't think bringing Wilbur on a watercraft is a good idea.
It would be interesting if Stella and her vet boyfriend cruised by in a much better, bigger yacht.
I’d like to quote Dorothy Parker, regarding Winnie the Pooh: “Tonstant Weader Fwowed Up.”
When I read today's strip I thought it said "into the seal". That would have been a much more fun ending.
Cue up the boat scene from Caddyshack.
I can’t get over those flowers. Are they frozen? Did Wilbur glue plastic flowers on the box? If he floats the whole thing in the ocean will he choke a dolphin?
@meg: my all time favorite Dorothy Parker quotation! That sums up my reaction exactly.
Thanks, meg, for the Dorothy Parker reference! Definitely a "fwow up" worthy plot here.. And Wilbur! So glad to see he's wearing a suit to a goldfish funeral. I'm still wishing we got to see the conversation between Mary and Jeff about this event.
And I can't let JB's "phish food" ice cream illustration go by unnoticed. Touche!
By now, Stellan should be completely defrosted. Imagine the scene as Mary and Wilbur approach Jeff's boat:
Mary: "We're here!"
Jeff: "Holy mackeral, what's that stench? Mary, you weren't kidding when you told me how slovenly Wilbur was. Whew!"
As Wilbur reaches for the doorbell, the box slips from his other hand and hits the floor. Then Wilbur accidentally steps on it. He asks Mary for a butter knife to scrape Stellan off the bottom of his shoe.
And things don't get any better thereafter.
-- Scottie
That suit emphasizes Wilbur’s neck as being larger than his head. In a sense, he’s like Stellen, whose head just seems to widen out and become his body. Darn, now I’m picturing Wilbur morphing into a goldfish!
Wait a minute, no one else cares?! Does anyone else know? Other than Willa, of course. Did Wilbur make calls? Send out emails? Does he think he“s clairvoyant? Does he think Willa is clairvoyant?
Well, he’s right. No one does care!
A telephone rings in a mansion on Connecticut’s Gold Coast.
Wilbur: Dawn, may I please speak with your mother (my heartless ex-wife)?
Dawn: Hey, Ma, it’s Wilbur on the phone for you! (picks up the other phone to eavesdrop. Yes, Muffy still has a landline, and Dawn’s Princess phone is still in her old bedroom).
Muffy Merriweather Weston Merriweather: (my charmless ex-husband and baby daddy) Helloooo?
Wilbur: Muffy, my fish died (of natural causes, I’m innocent, I tell you, innocent!).
Muggy: Wilbur, the restraining order is still in effect. (your fish died? Oh, boohoo, I’ll bet you had fish and chips for dinner last night, too).
Muggy? Hahahaha... Thanks, Meg. That was my best laugh of the day after Scottie's portrayal of Wilbur cleaning Stellan off the bottom of his shoe. And also, quite timely, a prediction of the cruddy weather we're about to experience on the east coast.
hmmm…I did that deliberately. And BTW, it is not muggy on the Gold Coast of Connecticut today.
What will happen next? Only two, make that three, possibilities. 1. Stellan will be miraculously revived after he thaws out in qthe bait bucket of Jeff’s boat, 2. Wilbur will miraculously meet the perfect woman in the hall, a rich, not too attractive, not too smart, not too particular, widow. Who loves fish. 3. Nothing.
One can only imagine how bored the residents of Charleston must be to all show up in Mary’s apartment for a fish funeral.
I hate to point out the obvious, MissScarlet, but...
Everyone is dressed in formal funeral wear for a fish funeral. Suits and dresses for a boat ride. I wonder if one of the dogs will get seasick. Or which dog will mistake the dead fish for a dog treat. Did Mary even remember that Jeff is deathly allergic to dogs? I’m sure that a riotous good time will be had by all. Chinbeard and Toby are already drunk.
Holding a funeral for your son on Father's Day. That's gotta smart.
-- Scottie
Want to bet Jeff gets there and has no idea he is hosting a sunset funeral cruise for half of Charterstone? At least he has a big enough boat.
I don't think Jeff would allow a couple of slobbering dogs on his precious boat. I believe these "friends" of Wilbur's have shown up just for the wake. And, as someone over at Comics Kingdom suggested, they probably assumed it was for Dawn since she hasn't been seen in weeks. That, and the fact that Mary told them a teensy, weensy little fib, letting them think it was Wilbur's "child" who'd died. Wait till they find out Wilbur's son was a goldfish.
Has Wilbur ever even MET Saul and Eve?
Old Man Wynter, I’ve never seen ya,
And your wife is a total stranger,
but your two mutts will just keep barkin’ along.
Toby and Ian thought that Wilbur was coming over for a beer, instead of WITH a bier.
Jeff won’t show, so it’ll just be a short walk on the long pier- or vice versa.
And what climate is Ian dressing for? He looks like he’s auditioning for the role of Billy in Carousel.
Eve’s black bandanna is very tasteful. Looks like Chin Napkin with a quick dye job.
@meg
"But seriously, folks . . ."
Ha ha, love it!
-- Scottie
You're firing on all cylinders, @meg!
Wonder if Jeff has a ramp for the Stellan to slide down, or will Wilbur just toss the box over the side?
Seeing this gathering brought "Gilligan's Island" to mind - oh no....
This just in:
Officers from EPA, DEEP, PDQ, and SRPD were waiting at a dock near the dogs-permitted section of the SR boardwalk when an impossibly large yacht hove into view and dropped anchor this morning.
Following reports from several different civic-minded folks who reported that the yacht’s captain had been observed dumping a bucket of unknown material at sea, the ship’s skipper was taken into custody along with several of his passengers. Arrested were local physician and retired hospital bigwig Dr. Geoffrey “Jeff” Cory, Wilbur “Wilbur”Weston, a columnist for Paper, Adjunct Assistant Untenured Professor Ian Cameron, blonde claymation artist Victoria “Toby” Cameron, three random old people, and two dogs.
Cory was charged with crimes against ocean ecology, and the others were arrested for public drunkenness and interfering with arrest. The dogs were locked in the supply closet of the Bum Boat restaurant until the SRSPCA could arrive and take them to a shelter.
According to the police officers, one of the old people, whose name is being withheld, has turned state’s evidence and is telling all she knows about the incident, and about lots of other stuff as well. Wilbur Weston was placed on a 48 hour psych hold when he kept insisting that they were burying his son at sea, followed by a good half hour of Marlon Brando impressions.
Beach goers complained that Weston kept shouting his “son’s” name over and over again. Ms. Cameron flirted charmingly with Detectives Poirot and Marple, and “Professor” Cameron kept shouting unintelligible words in an unknown language while guzzling from a large plaid covered flask which he plucked intermittently from his sporran, whatever that is.
All of the arrestees will be arraigned tomorrow at SRMC. They are currently being held on $2500 bail each, and the dogs will be available for adoption by good people with clean records. The yacht is being searched by Officers Cousteau and Closeau, and the contents of the ship’s bar are being analyzed by SRPD Chief Tracy.
No further details are available.
Clouseau
@meg wins the Internet!
Note to all members of the Worthiverse from Meg’s husband:
Meg, while eccentric, and perhaps a bit zany, is not actually crazy and is not under the influence of anything in particular.
Thank you for your understanding.
MIT, AAMS, RIA
Thank you meg! You made my morning!
To Meg's husband: The Commander, Mrs. Thunderheels says that of me at times.
Check out todays Frog Applause comic.
Hands up - how drunk is Toby?
For those who occasionally visit ‘Joshreads.com’, I recommend his take on the Sunday MW- featuring Libby the one-eyed cat.
Ian inadvertently speaks the truth. A terrified Toby shushes him before the all-powerful Mary overhears.
Ian has lost weight, yes? And somehow manages to be the one sane person in this group. Hands up, how drunk is Toby?
See todays Family Circus.
What’s that, Toby? You couldn’t hear me over Wilbur noisily stuffing his face with muffins? I said: “GEEZ, THE THINGS WE’RE WILLING TO DO TO HELP WACKY NEIGHBORS LIKE WILBUR!”
I apologize, Toby, for not taking this fish funeral sufficiently seriously. To make amends I have composed a stirring final eulogy in the style of Robert Burns.
As much as a goldfish could be glad,
Wee Stellan lived, altho' his days were few.
Noo stand the neibours, feigning tae be sad,
An' Wilbur's mournin', his fat hert brack in two.
Och, Wilbur, ye numpty! In this dull comic sphere,
Where mirth's sae scarce, an' your life's gan agley,
Ye hold a fishy funeral, complete with shoebox bier?
It's nae wonder yer Tinder prospects languish dim and grey.
He croaks oot a dirge, his muffin'd lips aquiver,
For the puir floatin' goldfish, now grown still an' cauld.
When your best mate's a minnow, Fate will shuir deliver
A life full o' Brutality untold.
Yet grieve on, dear Wilbur, for your wee finned relation,
Let your tears mingle wi' that stagnant pool,
For ye'll nae doubt find some new botheration,
And some new sorry pickle, ye hapless, bumbling fool!
Simply brilliant, Dr. Cameron! Wad a giftie ye have gie us!
Meanwhile, Willa floats in her solitary tank, unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
-- Scottie
Second verse, same as the first.
-- Scottie
Does anyone remember Wilbur volunteering to search for Greta when she was dognapped?
Ian rolls his eyes for all of us. Well drawn, June, well drawn.l
Does anyone remember Wilbur doing anything to help any of these people? To socialize with any of these people (except Mary)? To even talk to any of these people?
Makes me wonder if Moy has any friends.
In fairness, I must acknowledge that Wilbur has been at Mary’s holiday table with the Camerons. So there’s that.
Wilbur interrupts his conversation with the Camerons when he sees Mary carrying a tray of muffins.
Wilbur: "Sorry, guys. Didn't mean to be rude but you know how it is. Good muffins go fast! But, hey, don't worry, I got you guys some too. It'll only take a minute to pull them out of my pants pockets. Oops. Maybe I should have left the wrappers on."
Eve: "Oh, Wilbur. How could we not sympathize with your loss? I remember when Max went missing during a thunderstorm how you came out in the pouring rain to help us look for... Now, wait a minute. I remember now. We asked you to help us, but you didn't want to get your combover wet.
But then when Greta was dognapped and Mary organized a search party, you were right there... Now, wait a minute. That's right. We asked you to join us, but you said you had to feed your fish.
Saul! Grab your Yarmulke. We're outta here!"
"Ian, dear, how many times are you going to look at your watch?"
-- Scottie
Just a continuity point, but these things bother me. Did Wilbur stash Stellan in Mary’s freezer, or is he sitting on a windowsill quietly decomposing?
It is a FISH, not a dog. These people are really too much.
Why didn't Wilbur bring the other fish, the one who's still alive, to engage in the festivities? That fish spent 100% of her time with the dead fish anyway and was far closer to it than Wilbur was.
Eureka! The mourning muffin has made its appearance. But alas, no Chin Napkin.
Meanwhile, Dr. Jeff waiting on the boat, has caught several fish for a fry-up after the 'festivities'.
Miss Scarlett: Our beloved Chin Napkin is playing character parts now, often with the help of cosmetic aids. The ‘bandana’ which Eve is wearing looks strangely familiar, does it not?
Once again, Mary saves the day. What a surprise -- zzzzzzzzzzzzz.
@Chester the Dog yesterday, Willa may not be doing well, to put it mildly. When did Wilbur last feed her? Does he even remember her?
It's probably past time for Brigman to start putting a halo on Mary. Might as well make it official.
Who knows? Maybe lightening will strike!
"Ian, dear, that's quite enough scotch for one morning, don't you think?"
-- Scottie
The scene: Cap’n Jeff’s mini yacht. From the record player, La Mer (Beyond the Sea) wafts slowly around the mini group of mourners…er, guests…er, those whom Mary has dragooned into attending (c’mon, Ian, a lovely day on the water, free, including cocktails)…
Wilbur steps manfully forward, prepared to bid his ‘son’ farewell and to slide him down the makeshift stairway to (fish) Heaven. Mary, where’s Stellan? I thought you had him, Wilbur! Ay niver hae him!
Max and Greta sit by silently, slight smiles on their faces. They are innocent, just enjoying the foolish commotion amongst the humans.
Cap’n Jeff adjusts his telescope and peers at the pier. “Good news, Wilbur! He’s on the dock, next to the ladder. We’ll head back now to pick him up (and you’ll pay for the extra fuel, you d——d nitwit!).”
The SS Customary Fees hoves to and heads back. Just then, a large seagull hovers over Wilbur’s son, and in a flash, Stellan belongs to the ages.
Wilbur: “Thank you so much, Mary for all you have done to help me in my time of need.” Toby: “Mary, we really appreciate the invitation; you’re so thoughtful.” Ian: Mary, thanks for the invite and the free bevy -top notch!” Saul and Eve: “Mary, thank you for helping us to at least temporarily escape the boring hellscape that is our daily life.” Jeff: “Mary, I’m so happy you asked me to assist in your life’s noble mission. Maybe later we can—“
Mary: “No, Jeff.”
Toby: “I know it’s a funeral and all, but wasn’t it kind of funny when the big bird flew away with the fish?”
"Ian, dear, please take it easy on the . . . ahem, refreshments. You don't want to get seasick. And I guarantee you, nobody else on that boat will want you to either. Remember the last time?"
-- Scottie
Meg strikes again! Great!!
Ta, Miss Scarlett.
But I am beginning to realize that we won’t ever get on that boat. Nothing but idle chit-chat about Wilbur and his ‘friend’ group. Lucy and the football once again…
I did have a thought about Estelle and her boyfriend showing up, thinking it was Wilbur’s funeral; Estelle faints when she’s told that they’ve been keeping him in the freezer for weeks to avoid spoilage. Now my heart’s just not into it…
More blah blah blah. By this point, even Saul is starting to roll his eyes.
-- Scottie
There’s a message, here. I’m sure it is a deep and profound message. Unfortunately, my eyes have rolled so far back in my head that I am unable to perceive it.
Meanwhile, Jeff has gotten bored out of his gourd waiting for the burial at sea to begin and has embarked on a cruise with Ashlee, her friend Trixie, and a cooler of refreshments, liquid and other.
I want to hear Jeff hollering from Mary's bathroom:
"For crying out loud, Mary! You asked me to help you get rid of that stupid fish. What are you waiting for? Bring it on in. There's a water shortage you know. Why waste a flush?"
I’m hoping that when they *finally* get to Jeff’s new boat, he announces the trip will just be a few hours and, also, he’s finally named his boat, and it’s in honor of Wilbur’s fish! As they get underway, we see the name on the transom: “The Minnow.”
“…a three-hour bore, a three-hour bore…”
We're all in this together...my foot! All those people dropped by so they wouldn't alienate Mary. Never a good idea to get on Mary's bad side. Of course, Wilbur will never be on Mary's bad side. He's too needy and perfect for Mary's "help".
Mary breaks out her ukulele and starts "You Are My Sunshine"...
But…the other night, as she lay sleeping…did she dream she held Wilbur in her arms?!
Jeff: She was MISTAKEN!
You mean the whole motley crew is not going on the boat ride? I was looking forward to Jeff going ballistic over the presence of the dogs given his deathly allergy to the critters. Oh, well, at least we can infer that he has no allergy to dead fish. Or in Mary’s case, cold fish.
Ha haaa, fauxprof! Well done.
-- Scottie
It would be sad, but oh so fitting and funny, if they discovered Jeff reduced to skin and bones and cobwebs.
Is the cruise going to end with a tactlessly suggested dinner at the Bum Boat? Is Wilbur so sensitive he’ll turn down a free meal. Waiting on tenterhooks…
Oh, yes, meg. Dinner at the BumBoat with a singing fish on the wall doing "Don't worry. Be happy!"
Mary thinks of everything. She even rented a black car for the trip to the docks.
@MissScarlet, you zeroed in on Mary's attachment to Wilbur - he's the perfect sadsack who always needs her. The gift that keeps on giving....
The Bum Boat has undergone a change in ownership, and also a change in name. Hereinafter, the restaurant’s name will be “Le Bateau Hobeau”, and will feature classic French cuisine.
Tonight’s Menu
Carpe Grillee avec Garniture de Fleure
Surf et Gazon
Cotes Levees au Barbecue
what meg, no poisson glace at Le Bateau Hobeau?! Mon dieu!
No one had the stomach for it!
Jeff won’t need to start the engine. Wilbur and Mary churning through the same dialogue over and over (adding only few small variations) should be enough to get them a mile or two offshore.
Terrific comments today!
I can't think of anything more to say about this long stretch of inanity.
OMG! Jeff has a new boat, and it’s humongous!
We had a boat once. Sure, just a pontoon boat on a quiet inland chain of lakes, but never once did my husband ever pilot it in a suit and tie. Of course, we never had a fish funeral, either.
Practicing medicine been berry berry good to Dr Jeff.
I recall a movie where some people were going to go out on an excursion. When they arrived all they saw were large yachts. They were quite excited. The captain of the outing met them and walked them to their boat. I was maybe twenty feet long with an outboard motor.
I wonder if Jeff is setting them up?
Jeff'ss gonna look pretty silly pumping bilge water in that suit and tie.
-- Scottie
You have to ask, don't you? What is Dr. Jeff compensating for?
Here’s a better view of Jeff’s yacht:
https://www.dailysabah.com/life/travel/amazon-founder-bezos-luxury-yacht-is-on-turkeys-aegean-coast
Another compensator?
I'm fresh out of snark. Even Wilbur taking a header into the drink as he tips Stellan in wouldn't help much.
I'm so hoping for comic relief as a seagull snatches Stellan out of Wilbur's outstretched hand.
Remember the Stepford Wives? (either one, actually). I'm thinking that Mary had Jeff "done". He seems to be on auto-pilot all the time. Maybe she had him cloned too, so is 'other half' is hard at work at the hospital. Which would also explain how he can afford that boat.
And as we commit Stellan to the sea, back to his ancestral home, let us all lift our gaze heavenward and exclaim, "FINALLY!!!"
-- Scottie
P.S. This cracked me up. I swear, the CAPTCHA thing just made me click on boats.
Okay, I think we’re done here. Fish funeral accomplished, Wilbur all fixed and ready to go back to being the self-centered jerk he’s always been, just reasonably cleaned up and in public again. The world awaits. Starting Monday, either a prolonged victory lap, or Mary will take on a new problem. Toby and Ian, perhaps? He was getting pretty snarky at the fish wake.
Great white! Tidal wave! Moby Dick! Please, a sea gull, please!
Do you think there's a chance that Stellan will wash up at the same resort Wilbur washed up at?
Stellan and Willa were siblings? Does that mean that Wilbur and Estelle also had a brother/sister relationship? I'm not sure if that makes me feel relieved or queasy.
I am SO relieved that Wilbur can finally move on from this situation. Dr. Jeff should receive some sort of compensation from Mary for making this fish funeral happen. Maybe just paying the fuel fee it must have cost Jeff to take this cruise. And PLEASE, let us not have to see Jeff and Mary review the event for the next week. One can hope.
fauxprof,
It looks like a prolonged victor lap is coming our way.
Not to sound cold, but maybe Wilbur will see Stellan very soon.
So, Mary drove Wilbur from the wake to the boat, then afterwards, off to the Bum Boat with Jeff. But how did Wilbur get home? Did Mary drive him, with Jeff following behind, and then giving Mary a ride to the restaurant? Or did Jeff go to the BB and hold a table? Or did Mary, being her usual passive-aggressive self and insist on having her own car there so that Jeff didn’t get any ideas? This is how I fall asleep at night, worrying about Worthiverse transportation options.
Or was there a bus Wilbur might have taken? Or did he call an Uber? Uber driver to Wilbur: Hey, buddy, do you mind rolling the window down? It smells like dead fish back there…….zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…..
Wilbur will sleep with the fishes! Hope we don't have to wait long.
Okay, I concede, Moy. You can crank out dreck longer than I can crank out snark. I'm running on empty.
--Scottie
Touche, Scottie. It takes character to admit when you've been outlasted, dreckwise.
I'm with you Scottie. Moy must have given her brain the summer off.
@meg, you called the Bum Boat on Monday - wowee! Your MW powers are stunning.
The Bum Boat glasses must be tricky to sip from with those teensy rims. Mary's glass appears to contain a hunk of blue cheese, or plastic(?).
Friends, keep sending me positive vibes. Unlike Wilbur, I'm still struggling. Mary made it seem so easy and just a cliche away [sigh].
Kit Kat,
Hang in there. You are too important to the Worthyverse. You are long distance friend.
KitKat, no cliches from this crowd. Thunderheels is right, you are so special in this group!
I can’t summon up much snark, but at least Mary let Jeff remove his tie.
I guess that's supposed to be a wine glass in Mary's hand, but it looks to me more like it could be a microphone and I am imagining her breaking into some sort of Karaoke (theme song from "Flipper" anyone?). Stay well Kit Kat!
Hang in there, KitKat. You and fauxprof are the first two I remember "meeting" when I first came here. Your sense of humor is delightful, and I hope it can carry you when need be.
-- Scottie
Come on, KitKat! You can do this! I don't want to have to send Mary and her cliches over to your house, but I will if I have to!
Seriously, I do hope you'll feel better soon. All your friends here on MW&M are rooting for you!
KitKat:
Predicting that the kids would go to the Bum Boat for their date is like guessing what color Mary would wear. Hardly a challenge! Where else would they go? Jeff is only allowed in Mary’s flat on holidays, and the last time she was at Jeff’s was when they were watching the fallen televangelist on television. That must have been about 12 years ago, and Jeff sneakily attempted to put his arm around Mary (04/05/2012, actually)! After that Mary decided to protect her reputation. The Bum Boat is Mary’s Safe Space.
Please perk up, KitKat. You keep me honest in this weird space, er, wise place.
Meg
Jeff is such a suck up. A REAL friend might have said to Mary. "OK, I indulged your mollycoddling of Wilbur this time, but the idea that a grown man needs a bereavement group to handle the death of a goldfish is a bridge too far even for you. If you're that hard up for a meaningful activity, Mary, I can arrange a few more days of book delivery for you at Hospital. Also, you owe me $1200 for the fuel cost of that "burial at sea" Just sayin' as a friend and all."
Great comments by all!
KitKat! We are rooting for you. Come here if you ever need a pick-me-up. We support you 100%.
Anyone remember what dark time Jeff had in the past? I remember something about Viet Nam ages and ages ago. Didn't his son, Drew, have some problems?
But I think we really have to worry about Mary drinking those Legos. That can't be good.
Mary must be feeling the holiday spirit. She actually let Dr. Jeff put his hand on her shoulder!
Oh my, is that why there’s no mail today? And if I hear loud noises tonight, it may not be thunder? Thank you, KM, I needed your helpful PSA to tell us that it’s freakin’ Fourth of July!
Thanks for your encouragement, my Worthiverse friends. It touches my heart and means so much!
On to today's strip: Mary and Jeff are the only ones watching the fireworks? Was the Bum Boat closed and they broke in? What deserted space is this? So many questions....
Good point KitKat. Guess no other Santa Royalians wanted to go to the pier and watch the fireworks; apparently appearing magically from nothing.
I just need to know one thing: did they eat FISH at the Boat? Seems a little insensitive….
Nose-art malfunctions today. Either that or something they at st the Bum Boat.
“…ate at…” I meant.
Mary is obviously suffering from some kind of brain fart. That's no Wilbur we know.
I thought we might venture off into Jeff-land and review some "bad" times he had had. But....yawn....guess not.
It's been more than 24 hours, and Mary and Jeff are STILL standing on the dock, talking about Wilbur. I think the fireworks are over until next year...
KM isn’t even trying any more. I wonder if she misses Wanders, too. Meanwhile, in other comics, the bully story in Rex Morgan is fairly interesting, Sophie might get eaten by a shark in Judge Parker, and SallyForth grows ever more surreal.
LouiseF:
Are you suggesting that Mary and Jeff are sittin’ on the dock of the bay, wastin’ time? Ooh-wee….
I am delighted to be traveling through this human adventure with you people. But I am not going through this with Wilbur. There has to be a line drawn some where.
@fauxprof: I'm guessing we will soon begin feeling sorry for the bully, since we are about to see his role model in action. Kinda wondering if maybe that weird wanna-be boyfriend didn't deliberately set up Sophie so he could 'save' her. I always read Sally Forth but most of the time I don't really get it. Although, I am kind of enjoying the mother running a poker palace.
Are we done yet? Are we done yet? Are we done yet? Are we . . .
-- Scottie
Scottie,
I think we got the answer to your question.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, not Dawn!
Wilbur, Wilbur everywhere,
And all the boards did shriek,
Wilbur, Wilbur, everywhere
But not a drop to drink.
Oh, joy, Dawn is back. If we’re in for several more weeks of Mary straightening her out, we’re going to have trouble dredging up any more snark. Can you get snarked out?
@fauxprof: unfortunately, yes.
I will take a little Dawn distraction, however. She would be wiser to just accept Mary now as her Mother-In-Deed. That would save a lot of time, but probably not be as fun.
Isn't Dawn constantly moping and whining about being dumped? I guess her mother got sick of hearing about it.
Oh no, Wilbur AND Dawn! Moy has just doubled-down on all the haters, which is to say everybody who reads this strip.
-- Scottie
Okay, I get it now. The countdown begins. How many days before Dawn tells Wilbur that he's always been her hero?
I’ll bet Dawn’s Mum suggested a nice girls’ day out, her treat. New haircut, mani-pedi, lunch, maybe a new outfit. Dawn immediately climbed up on her high horse, accusing Mum of trying to buy her, after abandoning her thirty some years ago. That should be good for another six weeks or so of Mary’s kind manipulation (muffins at no extra charge).
…and now I want a muffin. I have some very nice blueberry muffins, courtesy of Instacart and Giant Eagle, and they don’t come with platitudes.
Quick! Someone needs to check on fauxprof! She thinks a giant eagle is bringing muffins to her.
@meg, Harry Potter had Hedwig the snowy owl, fauxprof has a giant eagle.
Hands up: who eats left over Chinese food with chop sticks?
@meg, Giant Eagle is my spirit animal (and supermarket).
I want to say that Wilbur's ex seems very self-centered; but with Dawn, who's to know?
MissScarlet,
Maybe that is why Wilbur and his ex broke up- too much alike.
fauxprof: Our New England supermarkets have such mundane names. I remember hearing of a Hinky Dinky chain in the Midwest, and I once heard of a Foody Doody. We don’t even have a Piggly Wiggly here!
Dawn slops noodles all over, wipes her mouth with her sleeve, and then lets out a hearty belch. "Mom said it just wasn't working out. I don't get it."
-- Scottie
We have Ralph's Pretty Good Grocery. If you can't find it at Ralph's, you can probably live without it. (Nod to Prairie Home Companion)
Giant Eagle, also known as "the Big Bird"...
@thunderheels: Yep! I think we have a winner. Dawn didn't fall any distance from the tree at all.
We have lots of choices; Trader Joes, Pavilions, Ralphs, Bristol Farms, Whole Foods, Amazon Fresh - we even have an Erewhon, but I've never been in it. Too posh for me. And I can't think of any with cute names.
For any reader to think that such an absurdly improbable conversation could ever take place between these two indicates that Karen Moy (1) has supreme confidence in her story-telling ability, (2) is utterly delusional, or (3) is a complete hack just grabbing an easy paycheck.
For any commenter to spend so much mental energy on this indicates that (1) he is a discerning and perspicacious observer of cultural touchstones or (2) he desperately needs a life, but cannot seek one because he enjoys the company here too much -- not that there's anything wrong with that.
-- Scottie
Since Mary seemed to be able to ignite at least the appearance of positivity and empathy in Wilbur, I wonder whether she could meddle his ex into a better version of herself. If Dawn’s mother was in Charterstone, yes. Of course, she would! But since Wilbur’s ex is not part of Mary’s Local Neural Farm, she is, by default, irredeemable and thus fair game for trashing for a few days before we move on to something more interesting. And almost anything would be.
Nice use of "perspicacious", Scottie! Given that Wilbur's former girlfriends pretty quickly get that he is probably not going to fit into their "vision" of life, I wonder how long he was married to Dawn's mother. She sounds like she would have even less tolerance of Wilbur's antics than his girlfriends have had. Hard to believe they were together long enough for her to BECOME Dawn's mother. I'm sure liquor was involved. Yikes! Tawdry.
Indeed, the Comic Curmudgeon also pointed out how odd it seems that Wilbur's ex allowed him to come anywhere near her, and then agreed to carry the pregnancy to term. Maybe it was alcohol. Maybe he was different then? Nah, must have been the hooch.
On another note, Brigman looks to be doing a good job of showing Dawn holding chopsticks. Why can she do cell phones?
I like Dawn's mother! She is more interesting that the other dullards in Charterstone. Road trip to the East Coast everyone!
Or will Dawn's mother ring the doorbell of Wilbur's apartment, demanding reimbursement for the ballet tickets?
I stand corrected. This last “Everything!” panel today is as perfect as it is timeless. Well done, Karen and June!
I would love to hear what Dawn and her mother said about boyfriends.
Friends, I guess we were all so enraptured with the fascinating story of a schlub and his fish that we completely overlooked the first anniversary of Wanders' last post on June 5.
We miss you Wanders, and we thank you for bringing us all together here and for letting us play in your yard while you're away. Hope all is well with you, your family, and, of course, your fish.
-- Scottie
Well said, Scottie. Wanders built this community for us, and we miss him and wish him all the happiness, health and good fortune the world can grant. And, Wanders, if you check in from time to time just to see how we’re snarking (still family-friendly), you are always welcome! Love, Sarah/fauxprof.
Scottie, thanks for your post yesterday. I second your tribute and appreciation for our dear Wanders. I miss his remarkable humor and creativity; he was the founder of our feast. Wanders, thanks for the memories! All the best to you and your family, and all good wishes for a happy and fulfilling life.
Today's strip: We all know that instead of "I'm sorry" Dawn actually should be asking "Who's Stellan?" (or "What's Stellan?").
Dad, I you promised me you'd stay off boats!
Thank you Scottie. So glad you remembered and marked the occasion so well. We miss you Wanders. We hope you are having your best lift with Ms. Wanders, your kids and grandkids. Stop by some time and say 'hi'.
Scottie,
Thanks for the reminder.
Wanders, thanks for allowing us to play in your yard. The community you have built is amazing.
Snark on, my friends!
Mary Worth and Me has been small daily refuge for me for years. A calm in the storm that sometimes life can be. Yes, indeed, thank you Wanders!
Let's have some fun next week! Guess we will have to read other strips.
Mary's genetically modified rose bush will soon cover half the grounds.
-- Scottie
So much for fun.
Just give it time. After all, Mary cannot admit defeat. Even when the meddle-ee is unknown and far away.
Hang on to that towel, Dawn, some of those quirks could be endearing!
A major gaffe by Dawn - uh oh. Dawn, the correct reply was "I'm sure you're right, Mary!"
Dawn's choker seems awfully tight.
Or perhaps the more declarative "I know you're right Mary, you're always right!"
Santa Royale has some weird kind of tree blight happening. The trees are all turning grey.
Now that I look more closely, Dawn looks kinds of grey too.
I'm not sure what Mary is feeding those roses, but it appears to have also contributed to the appearance of a giant mushroom under the tree... And indeed, friends, it's hard to believe it's been a year of us being left on our own to snark unsupervised. Luckily you all are resourceful! And yes, M Wanders, for your inspiration.
What is Mary "word salading" on and on about? Mary, go back to your giant mushrooms and leave Dawn alone.
Like everyone else, I miss Wanders terribly. I wonder, sometimes, if he'll ever return. Like Lola Delaney, I often step outside the backdoor and call, "Come back, Little Wanders, come back!"
Are Dawn and Wilbur free tonight? Of course they are. The few people Mary could scrape together for the fish funeral have had their Wilbur quota satisfied for at least a year, and Dawn has no friends at all.
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