Marmaduke and his owner-man are snoring discordantly. Owner-lady is upset that their harmonies are off, but is fine with the fact that a humongous dog is somn-frottaging her husband.

Marmaduke sneezed so hard his doghouse collapsed, severely injuring him. His owner-lady gawks and issues a dry understatement instead of offering any help.

Marmaduke can apparently read and write, but somehow the concept that he can also understand spoken English is beyond Owner-Man's grasp.

Marmaduke has taught his owner-boy the two most important principles by which he leads his life: get into mischief (in this case with dozens of snowballs) and make Owner-Lady's life revolve around yours via selfishness (such as taking up all the room her refrigerator with snowballs) and ignorant destructiveness (such as choosing to fill the refrigerator rather than the freezer with said snowballs, which will eventually melt and cause, at best, an awful mess).

Imaginary Dental School is going well; thank you for asking

Happy Year of the Boar, Marmaduke explanation enthusiasts... While the rest of you were out having fun setting off roman candles and drinking sparkling grape juice and making kisses, I was hard at work at Imaginary Dental School's Skeeter Danderslice Von Toothsworthy library, cramming for my Intro to Flossing exam. I can't say that it's been tons of fun for me lately, trying to balance my grueling uphill battle to be a fake dentist with my more artistic endeavors, but it'll be all be worth it someday, when I'm finally pretend-qualified to fix people's teeth.

Speaking of Imaginary Dental School, I've finished emailing the first batch of Certificates of Charitability to those kind souls who generously donated to the Official Joe Mathlete Imaginary Dental School Tuition Foundation. There was a guy named Seth who didn't get his, but he had a Hotmail account and it was probably full so I got it returned. Seth, delete some stuff and/or get a decent email provider, then get back to me. I will continue emailing these certificates on a weekly basis, provided that anyone is awesome enough to support my dubious medical aspirations. If you're curious, this is what Chocolate-Level Donors ($10-$100) receive:



I'll do the thing with the dog cartoon again tomorrow and the next day and so forth. T-shirt preorders forthcoming.

Beats,

Joe Mathlete

Marmaduke killed and ate Santa Claus.

Marmaduke put his owner-man in his place.

Marmaduke (who did not actually die yesterday) is crying because he can no longer use Christmas tree decorations to choke himself for sexual gratification. He also appears to be melting.

Marmaduke has finally died, thus completing the 2006 American Icon Yuletide Expiration Hat-Trick that James Brown and Gerald Ford kicked off several days ago. It remains uncertain whether he committed suicide, was murdered by his owner-girl (who did a fantastic job at making it look like an accident), or simply lost his balance in one of his frequent auto erotic asphyxiation binges.

Marmaduke is about to do to Christmas what he does to most everything in his world: destroy it with the aid of some improbably-acquired props and/or costume pieces.