If you missed all the recent love ditties, here they are again: a song about Valentine's Day from the devil's perspective, a bluegrass piece dealing with how the narrator's lover had better be faithful even after the narrator dies (or else), and a meditation on how "fairy-tale love" does not, in fact, involve floaty pink princesses and their handsome young rescuers.
|Friday, February 15, 2013|
|Panel 1: Casey and Anthea are sitting on the couch in the Davies College basement nook.|
Anthea: And then years later, my mom was all, "He couldn't help it; he was a very sick man." Bull! People should be in control of their own brains!
Casey: Your expectations may be a bit unrealistic.
Anthea: You would say that.
Panel 3: Anthea gets up.
Anthea: It's a great excuse, isn't it? "There's something wrong with me, so I don't even have to try." Where do you think that leaves the rest of us?
Panel 4: Sara appears out of nowhere and touches Anthea on the arm.
Sara: You're dead.
Anthea: Yeah, yeah.
Casey: Symbolism...I like it.
Alt-Text: Well, Anthea's sad, but at least Sara is winning the Murder Game again. Yay!
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