It’s always so odd when this happens.
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For God’s sake, Mary, let the man move in before you start to meddlize him.
Uh oh, when LuAnn gives a guy another chance, it usually ends up in a near matrimonial experience. Run, Mr. Downey, run far away and fast. Transfer to the George V in Paris or something, but do it now.
Sunny has good hair.
Just shut up, Jermey, just shut the fuck up. Bullwinkle and Red Skelton were among the greatest comedic geniuses of the American 20th century. They should be taught in every High School in America, you little creep. Honestly, how do Connie and whatzhisname stand it?
How did such nice people raise such an idiot? I ask you.
Or friend in this case, who needs enemies? I think Marty needs a new friend.
Life IS brutal, Wilbur, especially in a shipwreck. Every man for himself, y’know. I hope Dawn’s enjoying this vacation you dragged her off to. I’m sure she’s snapped right out of her funk that we were all so worried about. Facing a watery grave will do that to a girl.
Have you tried shaking some sense into her? Hopefully Giorgio has some drugs that will help. Let’s get the focus back on Mary, where it belongs. I’m sick of Dawn and her teenage triste.
You’re going to Europe, you little twerp, be more excited about it. Okay, okay, you’re going with your dad, but still try to have some fun.
Happy Solstice everyone!
Beats the hell out of 9 Chickweed Lane on both those subjects. Go Zits!
Look, Wilbur, if you’re too cheap to send her on a tour of Europe to mend her broken teenage heart, which would be doing us all a favor, then you’ll just have let her work it out her own way.
So, Mary, on Sunday you were agonizing over what to wear:
And this is what you went with?
Man, you and Apartment 3G really need new artists if only to spruce up your wardrobes. Maybe Brook McE could help you both out:
Well, okay, maybe not.
And speaking of the unspeakable:
I thought jammies as daywear were the exclusive domain of Chinese grandfathers in Los Angeles. Young people today…sigh.