Dilmom Comic Strips
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Dilbert: Every time I think I've invented something, I find out it already exists. Mombert: Maybe that's because all minds are connected by the morphic field. Dilbert: Morphic fields are pseudoscience, mom. Mombert: I also blame your dad's crappy genes.
NSA Agent: Your son is a traitor who stole top-secret data from his own government. We'd like you to talk him into leaving the Elbonian embassy so we can execute him for treason.
Dilbert: I spent four months creating this app, mom. I think I can sell a million of them for $3.99. Mom: I saw seven apps just like this in the app store and five of them were free. Dilbert: Thanks for the feedback, dream-killer. Mom: Have you ever thought of just using your first name, like Madonna?
Mom, the good news I wanted to tell you is that my boss named me project manager. Mom: Please keep that to yourself. I tell my friends you're a locksmith. Dilbert: You're paying for your own lunch. Waiter: I'm Ed. I'll be your project manager.
Dilmom Dilmom says, "How's work, Dilbert?" Dilbert says, "I'm doing the job of three people and my pay has been cut 20%" Dilbert says, "My investments are worthless and my odds of finding a suitable mate are nearing zero." Dilbert says, "My life has no meaning, no joy and no hope." Dilbert says, "Do you have any motherly advice?" Dilmom says, "Shake it off, you big wuss." Dilmom says, "And you can pass that wisdom to the grandchildren you won't be having." Dilbert says, "You're not good at this." Dilmom says, "Eat broccoli. Whatever."
Dilbert's Mom says, "I seem to have left my purse at home. I won't be able to pay you." A fortune teller says, "I put the curse of competence on your firstborn son!" Dilbert's Mom says, "That doesn't sound so bad." Years Later A man says, "I need a little help." Dilbert says, "GAAA! Why always me?!"
Dilmom: How is work Dilbert? Dilbert: Well, mom...I'm like a fly stuck in a thick tar of despair. Incompetence hangs in the air like the cold stench of death. I'm drowning, and monkeys dressed as lifeguards are throwing me anvils. My job has convinced me that life is a stale joke with no punch line. I long for the comfort of the grave. Dilmom: Next time just say 'it's fine. Dilbert: I enjoy our talks. Dilmom: It's fine.
DilMom "Your security software is out of date..." "Uh-oh." "Would you like to spend the rest of your natural life trying to figure out how to upgrade it?" "Erk!" "Or would you prefer to let hackers steal your identity, drain your bank accounts and destroy your hard drive?" "I need more choices!"