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Til Death do us Part

Cathy has finally tied the knot with Irving. We can all breathe a little easier, sleep a little better knowing that this star crossed duo has made the ultimate commitment to each other. At long last, love.

I've mentioned before that Cathy is one bad day away from starring in a comic strip adaptation of Natural Born Killers (my whole idea there was that Cathy and Beetle Bailey would go on a cross country murder spree - Cathy exacting revenge on the world for all her weight gain, bad financial decisions and relationship disasters, and Beetle treating everyone he comes in contact with as a surrogate Sarge, his mental and physical tormenter for life).

So I don't have much hope for this marriage. Oh, they will live happily ever after in the comic strip, I'm sure. Because the author of the strip doesn't like to face reality. If she would just be honest with us once in a while and insert a little reality into Cathy's daily adventures, maybe - just maybe - there wouldn't be hordes of people out there calling for the death and destruction of this strip.

If Cathy were more life like, we'd all be taking bets on how long this sham of a marriage will last. I'd give it two months before Irving stabs her to death with a fork. A bent, dirty fork. Because here's how it would really play out:

Cathy, finally feeling like she bagged the big prize, throws all pretense of being thin out the door. It's not like she's trying to impress anyone anymore - she got what she was after. So she goes on an eating binge, gaining about 75 lbs in two weeks. She takes a leave of absence from her job because she's gotten into the habit of sitting on the couch all day long, eating donuts and watching Jerry Springer. She doesn't cook. She doesn't clean. The only time she goes out of the house is to head to the plus size store, where she purchases housecoats by the dozen, and then to Target, where she goes on wild spending sprees that are nothing more than a manifestation of her realization that she married a short, bald, boring man and nothing will ever seem new for her again. Her mother visits often but only stays long enough to chide her for not being pregnant yet. Too bad Cathy hasn't put out for Irving since the wedding night. Sure, she'll offer him a hand job once in a while, but that's only when she wants Irv to drive to Krispy Kreme for her. And a hand job isn't going to get you babies, so Cathy is doomed to be a disappointment to her mother, who obviously likes Irving better than her own daughter, anyhow. And who could blame her? Cathy is a whiny, bitchy, ungrateful brat who's never satisfied with anything. Eventually, Irving forces her to see a doctor, who prescribes an anti-depressant and some diet pills. Cathy suddenly becomes focused. She loses weight, goes back to work and starts fucking the copy repair guy. Meanwhile, Irving has been relegated to henpecked husband status, and exists only to put a paycheck in the bank so Cathy can buy more shoes, more dresses, more lingerie she wears while straddling her lover. Irving has enough and stalks Cathy and her lover, which scares the copy guy away. Cathy goes ballistic and, in a culmination of every single disappointment she has suffered in her life, beats the living shit out of Irving. In a last breath attempt to die with some dignity, Irving grabs a fork off the kitchen table and stabs Cathy in the head. Several times. They both lay dead on the kitchen floor for days, until Cathy's mother finds them there. Before calling the police, she kicks her daughter's dead body and curses the fact that she will never, ever know the joy of being a grandmother.

Other scenarios are possible. Any way you look at it, this marriage is doomed and Cathy Guisewaite is the only one who doesn't know it.

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Comments

I can get a hand job for Krispy Kreme?

Damn, I was wondering how that worked...

Writing style note:

The words "hand job" and "Krispy Kreme" should never appear in the same sentence. I'm pretty sure Stunk and White dedicate a whole sub-chapter on this subject.

Unfortunately Josh, aka the Comics Curmudgeon, seems to have hit his bandwidth limit (I'm blessed with low traffic myself).

Maybe we could have a drive to buy his "More Zippers, Mule!" T-shirts when his site comes back up.

Mm....creme donuts.

Ok, thanks for the unsolicited support for another guy who blogs about comics in the comments of my post about comics, Hubris! Don't you worry about me, I'll just pay for my own bandwidth in donuts in hand jobs!

[Fine, I'll buy a t shirt when Josh gets back up]

"They both lay dead on the kitchen floor for days,"

Those little dogs are going to get hungry. I'm guessing Cathy would be pretty well-marbled.

Y'know, every scenario I can think up about this marriage turns into a Sam Kinison routine.

Maybe this is why I'll die a bachelor.

"she married a short..."

Sigh. And what, precisely, is so bad about being short? I mean, it's not like we short folk have a lot of choice in the matter. It's just the way we are. If Cathy married an African-American character, would you call him, "Black, bald and boring?" I somehow doubt it.

I'm not trying to be a Napoleonic little bitch here, but I am getting really sick and tired of being made to feel like some kind of leper (or perhaps leprecaun?) just because I'm 5'5". If people of different races and similar genders can marry each other, what's so socially unacceptable about a taller woman and a shorter man?

Do people ever give you grief for marrying a man considerably younger than you? Would you put up with that?

I can't wait to be flamed by Ilyka for this post.

I'm 5'2".

And I'm getting really, really sick of people who take every little thing so fucking seriously.

Lighten up, Francis.

All I can say about the Cathy wedding is "About damn time." Maybe she'll stop whining about being single.

If he was black it would be just as relevant as being short but white people would tend to shut up about it because we enslaved blacks and then practiced de jure discrimination against them for another century. When you go through that for being short, you can bitch. Until then, maybe you should learn to be grateful for the fact that you've never had to experience the pain that comes from sitting in positions only yoga masters should have to manage for hours on end.

Total non-sequitor::

Arrrgh. Another fat shouldered cartoon in a strapless bridal gown. Winter brides should have sleeves!!! yet the ho-brides of today will not be seen in straps, let alone sleeves.

/peevish matron

The marriage will end when Irving catches her blowing her meth dealer.

Hey, if the characters in Gasoline Alley can live to be more than 100 years old, then who are we to naysay Cathy and whatsihisname's marriage?

Dagny - You read into my comments way, way further than I intended. My point is that among a variety of ethnic groups in America, marriage outside of their race or ethnicity is considered taboo. I think we can all agree that these notions are not particularly progressive.

For instance, not too far north of where I grew up there a small town with a small but significant population of expatriate Lebanese christians. For decades it was considered shockingly improper, by the original denizens and the Lebanese immigrants, for a member of one group to marry into another. This isn't the case now, and I gaurantee that if you were to walk into the local watering hole and state that you think so-and-so married down because their spouse is Lebanese, you'd get your ass beat, and rightfully so.

That, Dagny, is what I meant by that comment. I think we can all agree that marrying someone of a different race is in no way marrying someone beneath your station. In the same manner, I don't see why it is that a woman marrying a man who is shorter than her is somehow settling for something less.

But hey, I guess I should take it so seriously, because it's all just a joke. Once you get beyond the studies that directly correlate height with one's hiring, earning and marriage potentials, it's really just nothing at all. Ha ha. You're right, I feel so much better now.

Hi! I'm Cathy Guisewite. I can't draw hands!

I agree with Sarah that brides should have more class. And what's with the hair piled atop her head? She looks like a member of the Branch Davidians. And speaking of religion, where is the wedding taking place? I see no cross, so it can't be a Christian church. Perhaps it's a Vegas chapel. Or a Unitarian house of worship.

You say, "You Got Your Panties in a Wad."

I say, "I am rightfully objecting to the unconscious prejudices of others, which directly affects my life in a myriad of unpleasant ways."

To-may-to, meet to-mah-to.

I'll stop beating this dead horse, since I'm probably skirting on the edge of bannination. All I request is that you ask of yourself the following, "Is my belief that marrying a short man is marrying down a rational one? If not, why do I persist in that belief?"

I'm genuinely curious as to what your answer is.

Glitch, I just don't get why you are harping on a throw away insult in a facetious, stupid post about fictional characters.

I married a short man once. Once.

I've been waiting to pull this one out.

/not really

They both lay dead on the kitchen floor for days...

Just like Romeo and Juliet! How romantic!

Oh, they will live happily ever after in the comic strip...

I dunno. In today's strip Cathy says to Irving, "Is she going to do this our whole marriage?" Not "our whole lives". I call it foreshadowing.

Well, you can only stand so much before it really starts to wear you down. After years and years of short jokes, being patted on the head, grabbed by random passers by who demand to know where my pot of gold is (this really has happened to me), assaulted by larger men who think that being small means you have to accept being bullied, being rejected outright by women because I am of small stature, accused of being either a "wimp" or having a "Napoleonic complex" depending on my mood, well...it just isn't funny anymore. Sorry. I guess at some point in the not-too-distant past I reached the point where the camel needed a chiropractor, and I decided not to take it anymore, from anyone.

I know you must find this terribly amusing, but from my perspective, it's not so funny. I consider this no different that laughing at some poor schoolgirl with a hare lip or someone who is mentally ill. Sure, it makes you feel good, but that doesn't make it particularly nice.

I have absolutely no clue what you most recent image is in reference to. "Banana nation?" I'm guessing that's nothing like a banana republic. Could you please elucidate?

Where are the bald guys at? The shopaholics? Hello? Any stress-eaters out there? Bridezillas? Overbearing mothers?

Surely, this post has offended all of you, no?

No?

I wish to submit for the record, that as a 5'7" high male, I found nothing offensive in the above posting.

Surely, this post has offended all of you, no?

Well, now that you mention it...

She takes a leave of absence from her job because she's gotten into the habit of sitting on the couch all day long, eating donuts and watching Jerry Springer. She doesn't cook. She doesn't clean. The only time she goes out of the house is to head to the plus size store, where she purchases housecoats by the dozen...

I was going to say, "I resemble that remark!" But then I remembered that I do cook, so I'm cool.

Glitch the Obscure:

You're reading a veteran of the tall woman/short man relationship, scars and all.

I'm 5'6". In my immediate family, I'm the SHORTEST (yes, you read that right). I have AUNTS that are over 6 feet tall. My ex-husband says he's 5'2" (he's actually about 5 feet tall). I could literally rest my chin on the top of his head.

He never could relax about it. It bothered him constantly that I was 6 inches taller. He compensated for it by using sarcasm and belittlement on me to make himself feel better, classic symptoms of the "short man syndrome."

I still like people my size (I guess from having the snot beat out of me by my brother, who at the age of 14 was 6'2" tall), but after that experience, I've been too shell-shocked to try again.

Elizabeth
Imperial Keeper

Glitch --

I'm 5'4" and according to my doctor I'm of average height. I have never considered myself short. I dated a guy who was my height and the issue was similar to what Elizabeth describes; the problems were on his side. One friend is 5'1" and one friend is 4'11". I've never heard either of them describe the torments you expereinced. We discovered in college that being short got one through the keg lines by ducking underneath the tall people and emerging from the crowd right next to the keg. I guess it's all in how you use your advantages.

I actually did a cartoon in college with a classmate of mine involving Cathy, Billy from the Family Circus, Dagwood Bumstead, Ziggy whisky & heroin.

<picks Glitch up>

Don't get a nosebleed now -- I just wanted you to see what it's like to not give a weasel's sphincter about people telling short jokes.

Michele,

Yours is one plausible way in which Cathy's life plays out. Here is another.

Cathy finds the satisfaction in life that she has been hoping for, in the form of a decent and reliable guy. Now that she has filled the biggest missing piece in her life, the anxieties and neuroses simmer down to a manageable level. She has children and finds that caring deeply for someone other than yourself is richly rewarding. She gains a modest amount of weight as the negative of not worrying about what she looks like anymore is offset by, well, the positive of not worrying all the time about what she looks like.

Your version makes a better movie. My version probably matches reality more closely, at least for those that open up the window shades in their lives once in a while.

What studies are those, Mr. "I've never taken an Intro to Science Class Or I'd Know Correlation isn't Causation"? Or the huge number of well-defined, peer-reviewed studies that it takes to make something an accepted fact (or even theory)?

You were comparing your plight with that of African-Americans, whether you want to admit it or not, and there's NO study you could produce that would come even NEAR to justifying that.

Guisewaite, personally, is cute, funny and clever. Too bad it doesn't seem to make it to her comic strip.
As for the bizarre "short guy" sidepath, "short guy syndrome" is just a "real" as the denial of promotions etc stuff. Correlation/causation?