I Felt Something!

Saturday, September 5, 2015

Monday, September 7, 2015

The facial expressions and lighting in these strips are totally appropriate, YES, I approve, let's keep this moving!

P.S. If you think it's cheesy and unbelievable that Eric Mills is having premonitions, Margo was having dream premonitions six years ago, complete with a head bobble. Oh, how I miss the bobbles! And the swivels. I feel like we haven't had regular bobbles and swivels for ages.

Hyperbolic Rage

Please note that Margo thinks evil incarnate is the "psychic" grifter who tried to overcharge her mother on a wedding venue.  Not the former assistant who tried to explode a bomb wrapped in graph paper at her apartment.

I mean "evil incarnate" is reserved for like Hitler or Charles Manson.  Diane is just your average flim flam artist, trying to make a buck or several hundred thousand by exploiting extremely gullible, wealthy older brides.  I'd say that rates a "barely menacing" on the evil scale. 

Drained

Yep, Margo's right where we left her: wandering into traffic. She had been musing that she needed to find "the perfect crew" to execute her parents' wedding. Dollars to donuts, that means enlisting Tommie and Lu Ann, who are about to bump into her on the street and, seeing Margo's distressed state, make the fatal mistake of asking: How can we help?

Either that, or it's time for yet another encounter with the Perfect Stranger, who will reveal himself to be a combination hairdresser and caterer.

Where is Margo?

Wait, we've gone from the apartment to outside to the M+M Agency, with no assist from a narration box? And how does Lu Ann know about Greg being in town? Did Margo vent about their encounter in some kind of stream of consciousness swear-laden monologue in the apartment?

Man, I give up trying to force logic onto this. I'm just going to sit around the office pinching my chin like Lu Ann.

Lost in Thought Out on the Street

Friday July 24, 2015

Saturday July 25, 2015

Enough real talk. Let's get back to Margo musing to herself while bumping around Ye'Town, the newest, hippest and yellowest neighborhood in Manhattan!

Something Feels Ominous

Dear diary,

Fell asleep in my clothes again. Woke up to find my hair back to its full raven luster again. (Clairol's "Easy to Use While You Snooze" Root Touch-Up does it again!)

Starting not to understand my own logic with the psychic stuff—if I do believe in spirits and mediums, wouldn't it follow that I should feel something ominous? Is it my mom, still lingering in the apartment? Is it my framed print of the Ninth Gate? Is it my two-in-one fire blanket and comforter?

Oh well. Have a long day of shutting out my loved ones ahead, better get started.

xoxo,

Gabbers

Home Alone

Didn't Margo just have a breakfast pie/smoothie/whiskey at the diner?  She really is a stress eater.  I'm also pretty sure that potatoes, milk and oranges don't freeze well.  Either that or Margo's ice cream is going to be a little bit melted.   

No Time for Tears

Look at Thelma... smirking! So smug in her relationship with that sage-suited Cary Grant. On the plus side, I think this is the first time I've ever seen a dog in the strip, and it turned out pretty cute.

Sunday Recap

Friday, February 27th

Sorry for the belated blogging lately.  Maggie is on a well deserved vacation, but that coincided with the release of the third season of House of Cards.  The exploits of Frank Underwood were just a tad more interesting than Margo having a crisis of confidence in the the middle of the street.

I find it hard to believe that the event in Margo's life that throws her into an existensial crisis is not her fiancee dying in a Nepalese avalanche or her former assistant trying to glitter bomb her apartment building.  It's her mom kind of being a bridezilla.

Saturday, February 28th

You mean the not being hungry is weird?  I would think that it is pretty normal that Margo mistreats her slaves roommates and demands that they leave her alone. 

Contemplation in Yellow

Margo, we also don't understand why you've chosen a blue shapeless windbreaker painter's smock and a pink turtleneck.  And why you suddenly care about planning your mother's wedding.  And why you've been standing in front of the same building for three strips.

What's Wrong With Me?

Pink turtleneck. Blue blazer. Aggressively yellow building. Green oldsmobile lurking in the background. Deep thoughts. Looks like Margo is ready to shoot her self-titled album cover!

Not in the Mood

Margo's emotional laziness never fails to put a smile on my face. "I should apologize, but I'm not in the mood." "I should help my mom plan her wedding, but I'm starting to get sleepy." "I should maintain my relationship with my boyfriend / A-list client, but letter writing? What are we in, junior high?? I'll send him a text later."

Speaking of people I thought were Greg Cooper! Is this Margo's mysterious benefactor? Who's just... some random dude I guess? Or Greg in middle-aged hat-wearing disguise?

Flights of Fancy

Uh, unhappy exceedingly plain turquoise-clad Marlo Thomas? Can you just... can you just back up out of the shot for a minute? Margo is thinking.

Imagining Things

Yesterday was one of my favorite strips in recent history. How can Greg Cooper/Clark Kent/ghost-who-walks/the wandering tickler be gone already??  I think he tickled her further into the past... I usually get a 1960's buttoned-up watered-down Mad Men vibe from this strip, but I think I see Spanky, Darla, Jimmy Olson, and a young George Bailey in the background today. Gee, this is swell! Chin up, Margo. Maybe a strawberry phosphate will make you feel better?

Far Too Driven

Uh. Margo. Quick tip. Sullen reflection is not your forte. Leave the week-long mope-fests to Tommie. You're a woman of action! I can only hope that you finish that sentence, "Work is my passion... but—dancing is ALSO my passion!"

As Margo Reflects...

I like to think that this is how Margo spends her evenings. Relaxing in her overstuffed green armchair (a glass of wine just off panel no doubt), musing to herself, occasionally blurting out some bitter, rancorous sentiment to no one in particular.

Actually, works better if you cut out those thought bubbles...

Gossip Gossip Gossip!!!

I have to say, what I saw was not so much gossip as unsolicited helpfulness. Was that the whole interaction with Tina? Because 50% of it was pleasantries. Nevertheless: traumatic enough that Carol left without buying anything and put that squirrel thing back on her lap. Grrr...!

Maybe it's time to move to the big city, girl. Maybe it's time to move in with your doppelganger, whose address is already programmed into the jalopy's GPS, push her out the window, and assume her life. Maybe...

Side of the Road

Well, I'll give this much credit to "the story of how Tommie wore pajamas to her mother's wedding, parked in some random place to wait out 'the rain' that stopped instantly, and used a flashlight that looks like a gas pump to find a dead deer carpet in someone backyard": I really didn't see it coming. Is she... still in Pittsburgh? Pittsburgh, man! Those deer.

CRASH!!!

Ugh, Tommie WOULD wait for the rain to let up.

And look, it's not that I'm upset that the wedding is over—weddings are hands down the worst and most boring of the soap opera tropes—but like, that's it?? We didn't even get a chance to get to know Conman Elroy, and now they're going on ANOTHER trip? Tommie's mom must have a very understanding employer to let her take another vacation like this. That's Pittsburgh for ya, I guess. City of Steel. City of Bridges. City of Unlimited PTO.

So anyway, that's over! Where are we now that Tommie decided to park? And how did I just now notice that Tomimie borrowed Lu Ann's favorite pink polo for HER MOTHER'S WEDDING??

Internal Dialogue

Can one get busted for talking?  Is the A3G New York a hypervigilant police state where even the smallest violations of social mores are punishable and draconian laws instill a fear of consequence in the population?  I would think that Marty would be more concerned about the palsy that afflicts her of late than whether Tori is ten minutes late for their running away from home rendezvous.  She's probably just picking up a pack of Camels for the road...