Dear Garfield

Dear Garfield,

What the fuck is so wrong with Mondays?

You don't have a job, so it's obviously not the start of the work week that bothers you. Is it that your owner Jon is down on Mondays and it rubs off on you? Well, let me tell you something about Jon: He's a anti-social loner who borders on paranoid schizophrenia. He is down 7 days a week and I'm frankly surprised he hasn't put a gun to his pathetic, unloved head and blown his non-existent brains out.

So what could it be, Garfield? You are so hilarious the other 6 days a week (what, with your pithy observations about being lazy, obsessive eating and being lazy while obsessively eating), so what's with Mondays?

I understand that occasionally a big pie will fly in your face on a Monday, causing you to exclaim "I hate Mondays!"; but I have a question for you. WHO THE FUCK IS THROWING PIES AT YOU? You shouldn't hate Mondays, you should hate the filthy motherfucking bandit that breaks into your house every week to THROW A PIE square in a cat's face. That fucker obviously has a kick for animal cruelty, but you can't blame Monday. No, Monday is the innocent bystander in this deviously perverse pie game.

I suggest you seek counseling, because Monday isn't the cause of the problem. There's obviously something deep and pathologically wrong with you. Blaming Mondays for your faults? Does George Bush wake up, look in the mirror and say "Fucking Wednesdays" when his approval rating is at 23%? No! Firstly, he doesn't read a newspaper, and secondly he knows better then to blame a day. He blames the Jews, like most Christians. He's still climbing that mountain to heaven, and as you know, the Lord Alps those that Alps themselves.

So Garfield, it's time to take a hard look at yourself and try to understand WHY you hate Mondays so much. Perhaps if you look deep enough, you'll find that you're morbidly depressed because you've been recycling the same jokes for thirty years and the idea of spending another week doing it tears apart the space in your chest that used to contain a heart. That, and you're queer for Odie. Just a guess.