




This isn’t a CIDU, but: does this resonate with anyone? Or make sense for anyone you know in the 21st century? The idea that you’d need to keep it secret from your spouse that you spent some time with a member of the opposite gender seems really, really, really outdated.
I think my wife would be interested to find out that I met her doppelganger.
Also, a separate question for golfers: Do golf courses really just pair you up with random other golfers? Why? Or is this just a plot device?



(This was actually part of a linked series, but seeing the preceding strips wouldn’t make much difference, apart from explaining what might otherwise be a mysterious detail — she was hit in the head by a flying baseball, and is holding an ice bag to it for pain relief.)



And a second shot for Pardon My Planet. This one is a LOL-CIDU. It did take a couple minutes before we got it – but not hard enough to justify making it a separate CIDU post. Also (I confess) it shows the perils of holding on to a negative attitude about some comic strip — one reason I didn’t get it at first was dismissing some meaningful details as merely haphazard artwork.













And a last minute Sunday Bizarro LOL.



An OY-LOL: Actually, by me the pun is pretty weak, but the execution of the planner page is quite fun!





Something of a nerd-Oy. Thanks to Mark Jackson for sending!






From BillR, who comments “Ok, I know who D.B. Cooper was, but the rest of it is beyond me.” Yep, me too.
For those who don’t know who D. B. Cooper is: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D._B._Cooper
I find the hovertext even more confusing than the cartoon itself: “The only other person to walk by was a linguist back in the ‘80s, but she just spent a while directing the phrase ‘help me down’ before getting distracted by a squirrel and wandering off.”
(Edit: the hovertext actually says “dissecting,” not “directing.” So that’s much less confusing.)

Sure, Dagwood likes doughnuts. But what’s he zooming around for if there’s no doughnut cart? From Phil Smith III and larK.

He can’t possibly really mean “anagram”, can he?

Salt in your beer is bad enough, but at least it is a choice made by the drinker. (And yes, there really are people who do that.) Sand should not be found in any drink.
Who is the “he” that got sand in your beer? The apparently sentient blob of sand lurking between panels three and four? Who maybe was living in the FIRE sand bucket? And with what reason? He just doesn’t like hearing sand get minimised?