Sunday, February 14, 2010

The Inescapable Addiction-Blighted Hellscape Known as Pluggers' Lives

I know I recently talked about Pluggers and not prescription drugs, but lest you think a group of junior pluggers got together and held an intervention and Grampa went to rehab or something: WRONG. Pluggers don't believe in that shit. The way they live their lives is CORRECT and AMERICAN and DOWN-TO-EARTH and very, very CHEAP. (Gramma Plugger is always talking about how that Betty Ford should be ashamed herself, but the kiddies don't really know what she's talking about). And besides, if pluggers weren't pathetic and strung-out, I'd just have to read the comic to be enraged at the faux populism, anti-intellectualism, and conspicuous patriotism. So here's a few recent gems: Pluggers, though they are pretty sure Jesus would strike them down if they actually euthanized their pets, are pretty sick of taking care of the little shits. So they just get their dogs as high as they are, so they won't have to listen to them bark during the quaaludes-tinged excitement of "Deal or No Deal." (Howie Mandel's head is SO SHINY, you guys...) When your grandparents say they are going on a guided bus tour with some other seniors, they are not really going on a tour. Sure, they stop some places, but nobody really remembers much about the trip because they spent the whole time getting completely wasted on each other's prescriptions. EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. Susan Owen of Frisco, Texas: EW. Gary Brookins: EW. And not just because this panel made me contemplate pluggers having had had sex at some point in the distant past. No, instead I have been forced to imagine the contents of that tube of kind of sketchy and generic-looking Bengay being rubbed all over the hairy back of a DOGMAN by the four-fingered paw of a DOGWOMAN and all that matted fucking fur and the stench, people. THE STENCH. Ew.

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