Sure, deride Marm for being cautious around what appears to be a Black Widow the size of a goddamned hubcap walking down the street in broad fucking daylight. Black Widows are nocturnal, so this one clearly has rabies or something. Marm knows that, and he's saving your bony white ass from this thing. Why? Who knows.
So how 'bout you open a nice cold can of Shut The Hell Up when you get home and are done scraping the poo from your drawers there, He-Man?
"The bakery". Is that what they're calling the euthanasia chamber these days, Phil? The bakery? I kinda like that really. Has a nostalgic Buchenwald-like ring to it.
No wonder it flew by, Phil. It's called the survival instinct. One look at Marm's face and you can easily see the relief knowing that he once again managed to outrun death. That, and I'm sure he could smell the pheromones from Dottie, who has assumed the Anal Penetration position in anticipation of this return.
Today's Marm was just too damned idiotic anyway, so we're gonna do a lttle FC action today, yo?
Dolly seems truly concerned about the sale price of the lamp rather than what's really going on - Bil realizes that the lamps are not the reason for the purchase of said "pole lamp". Bil, being the concerned neighbor that he is, is going to offer to help the young lady "install the pole". Oh yeah.
All of the above? I swear to God that Brad's done this one before. Maybe Paul did this without either consulting Brad or by, say, looking at old ones to see if it has been done. Wait, maybe they did this one in Dennis The Menace or perhaps Family Circus. I dunno.
All I know is that I like the use of the flat-screen TV. It shows us that Brad is still "hip" and "relevant" even if his cartoon is "insipid".
And once you've put together the circumstantial evidence, please realise that the ball had no other choice but to be drawn in to the gravitational field created by your fat ass. I'm amazed the tennis ball is still intact.
Seems that Fatass and Wife have emperically decided that their narrow-minded Midwest Baptist ham-and-corn-eating swine lifestyles should pour onto Marm's dreams like artery-clogging gravy over a perfectly healthy egg.
Fuck them, Marm. Fuck them right in their tight yet pasty and flabby asses.
Seriously. I can't come up with anything right now so please, be my guest. Write a caption, synopsis, ctritique, what have you ... for today's Marmaduke. The winner (out of all 1 of you) will receive something or other. Thanks!
Good ol' Janus, I mean Phil. So nice to Marm when in the public eye. Also, it's nice of Phil to let that little yapper dog rub its anal glands at the same spot ol' Marm did, ensuring the spread of intestinal parasites. Go Phil!