Tag Archives: Cayla

A Proven Whiner

Link To Today’s Thingy

Ewww, yuck. The Delicate Genius is sequestered away in his dreary studio, slaving away on his cancer book prequel or sequel or whatever the f*ck it is, as Cayla waits on him hand and foot because he’s either too cheap or too lazy to buy himself a coffee maker for his garage office. What a dick. Hopefully this is just a one-off Sunday strip and not the start of yet another Dick Facey, The Delicate Genius arc, as I’m just not ready for another one of those yet. Get a load of that look on his face in panel three, all smug and self-satisfied with his wordsmithing, like he’s just too clever for this world. What a dick.


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The Lights In The Sky Are Stars

Link to today’s strip.

This could be kind of sweet, if we liked these characters even slightly.  Since they have been deliberately fashioned to be as unlikable as possible, instead this is just three panels of wasted space.

It’s interesting how the viewpoint shifts–in panel one, Les starts with “I’m,” meaning he (as usual) only cares about his own feelings.  In panel three, Cayla goes for the “We’ll,” somehow hoping to include herself.  Does she really think she’ll ever be included in Les’ world?

I can’t really think of anything else to say about this one, so on to the comment section wi’ ye!


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Link to today’s strip.

Here’s something I like about today’s strip.  No, it’s not the idiotic word-play.  It’s not the artwork, the falling leaves, or the grotesque slab of Les’ greasy hair in panel two.  (Seriously, look at that.  I mean, we all want him to melt in agony, yet here it is and it isn’t any fun at all!)

No, what I like are the expressions in panel three.  Those are three of the most bitter, most miserable people in the world.   Even the guy who’s delivering the pun doesn’t look pleased with himself–he looks as if he’s really loathing himself for having to do this.

What we see here are three people realizing that they are mere toys in the hands of an angry god, and they must dance for his pleasure or burn.  They have one freedom left:  the freedom not to smirk at a pun.  They can withhold their approval in this one thing without fear of annihilation.

No wonder both Les and Cayla envy Les’ dead wife.  Even though the dead can never rest, they can’t die again. either.

Of course, Les’ expression in panel three is typical of him when someone else delivers wordplay.  It just galls him when someone beats him to the punline.  I recall Barry Balderman’s remark about “Life is like masking tape, the more you use, the less you have” (or whatever he said).  Les’ face then was just Boy do I hate you.  Boy do I hate you.  Lisadamnit, I’m supposed to do the clever stuff. 

Given what passes for “clever” in these parts, I suspect most cast members would be happy to pass it off to Les.  “Happy” being the completely wrong word, of course….


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Long Arm of the Lawn

Link to today’s strip.

Or, even better, Long Yarn of the Yawn.

I remember reading Dick Tracy years ago, and a retired police chief had opened a gardening supply store named Lawn Order.  I thought that was pretty clever, as puns go.

This?  This isn’t clever.  I bet there are hundreds of tree-care folks who use this as an actual slogan.  In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me at all of Tom Batiuk was driving around, spotted this on the side of a truck, and thought Well, there’s a daily strip right there.

I don’t know what is more sad.  That Tom Batiuk did twenty years of gag-a-day strips, and thirty years of bland garbage, or that he actually thinks those thirty years are what will constitute his fame.

(Yes, in the “thirty years” I’m including from now to March, 2022.  That’s the only endpoint left here.)


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For Leaf Closure

Link to today’s strip.

Dear Mr. Batiuk–

Look, we get it.  You killed off one of your favorites to win a prize, and when you didn’t win that prize, you’ve tasted ashes and been filled with regrets ever since.

But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s dead, and you need to stop bringing her back.  Either that, or finally give Cayla a small bit of dignity and have her divorce Les for “irreconcilable differences.”  She can even make puns on the way out the door.  Then Les (and Summer) can wallow in Lisa memories until March 2022.

She’s not poignant.  She’s not insightful, or funny, or even interesting.  Les’ continued need for her makes him look even more pathetic than he actually is.  Here’s the thing: The more you bring her back, the less special her death becomes. 

It’s like the dork who finally gets a laugh with one of his dumb jokes, so he repeats it endlessly until everyone was sorry they laughed in the first place.   And they wonder why they laughed at all.

One thing I’m sure of.  I’m willing to bet real money that the Pulitzer Committee is not reading this strip and thinking, Wow, we really made a mistake.  This is great stuff.  Let’s award him a do-over prize!  No, like most of humanity, they’re not reading this strip at all.  And if they did, they’d think, Wow, we were lucky on that one.  How did we even nominate this?  Were we drunk?

We get it.  “Lisa’s Story” was your crowning achievement.   Typically, when one has a crowning achievement, one retires.  Otherwise, as one’s crowning achievement recedes more and more into the distance, that crowning achievement begins to look a lot less like the result of talent and more the result of blind luck.  And one ends up as one of those sad old people whose every sentence begins with, “Hey remember when I…”


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If Ever I Would Leaf You

Lisa’s beloved autumn leaves are falling so heavily that it’s all Les can do to keep up. Especially with arms that are barely thicker than the handle of the rake he’s holding. The Other Woman, properly chastised and accepting of her secondary status, presents Les with Lisa’s third-party hug along the second tape DVD. Her dazed grin signifies her complete submission to the Will of Lisa’s ghost. Les, meanwhile, appears startled that eighteen years after her death, Lisa’s recorded nagging continues.


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Tell Him It’s from Me

Um, not really. It’s also been watched by Crazy Harry and, at least in part, by Summer. Perhaps exhausted after delivering a lecture that’s gone from genial, to threatening, to condescending, today Lisa brings it all to a rather conspiratorial close. Speaking of Crazy Harry, I thought that this “found footage” that you, I, and Cayla have been suffering through was an “Easter egg” that Crazy happened upon:

Sunday, 9/20:

But it’s pretty clear that Lisa meant for this, and “the second tape”, to be viewed. And heeded.


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