Adeptable You

Link To Today’s Thing

Yes, Harry. We all vividly recall how you invented the concept of “crowdfunding” with your m**herf*cking door-to-door band f*cking candy fund raising drives. Geez, what a windbag. So apparently using a mouse and a keyboard at the same time is no biggie for ol’ Becks, as she’s gotten the Scapegoats Marching Band in on this whole “social media” fad all the kids are into with the phones and such. Honestly (and I’m just speaking for myself here) if I lived in Westview I’d definitely prefer to order my band candy online than to have Owen or Bernie at my door, that’s for damn sure. I mean life in that town is hard enough given the limited dining and reading options and how it snows non-stop for months at a stretch.

Perhaps Principal Nate and the WHS admin staff might want to consider the possibility that Becky’s shitty job performance could be attributed to Dinkle distracting her with his constant inexplicable presence. Just a thought.

Prove It All Night

Link To Today’s Strip

Well, at least that highly disturbing Morty and Holly’s mom arc appears to be over, thank God. This week we’re switching gears and visiting good old Westview High to see what the good old Scapegoats band is up to during this, the most holiest of all seasons. And, to no one’s surprise at all, everything is still exactly the same. Beleaguered and perpetually harried band director Becky still has one arm and still relies heavily on her predecessor, who “retired” eleven or fifteen or seventeen or twenty years ago (no one is really sure) for basic teaching advice.

At this point I am contractually obligated to point out yet again that if BatDolt hadn’t ruined the Dinkle character by using him to generate totally unnecessary Dinkle pathos where none was needed or wanted, he’d still be able to do Dinkle-style band gags without finding a way to work that miserable one-armed woman into the strip. It’s kind of weird how he kept her around to have a disabled person presence in the strip yet she’s by far one of the most hapless and helpless characters in it, which IMO kind of belies the whole point. But hey, it’s only Monday, maybe (sigh) this time will be different.

Svenjolly.

Link to Today’s Comic.

Did you all the favor of waiting for the strip to drop today. And while I’m very happy it isn’t more Mort and Funky hilarious sexual hijinks, this installment could have been generated by a computer program that has been fed Funky Winkerbean trope data. In just one strip we have:

– Stupid, slacking, adolescents.
– Magically cured old people.
– The visual stumpy residue of former ‘prestige’ arc trauma.
– Mansplaining.
– Dinkle shouting.
– Self-Satisfied Smirking.
– Deadpan Sardonicism.
– G2 Funkyverse characters being too passive and flat to live up to the wacky excess G1 Funkyverse characters.
– Lovingly rendered bricks.

Well, it’s been a real blast dealing with all this hot and heavy material for the last couple weeks, but Epicus takes over on Monday to see us through the Holiday Season. I sincerely hope that all you fellow StuckFunkyians have Merry Christmases, and safe fun New Year’s. And I sarcastically hope that next year is a better year for Funkyverse.

Thanks for everything TF Hackett and Epicus Doomus do to keep this fun little blog chugging along. Merry Christmas to all! And to all a good night!

#NotAllMen.

Link to Today’s Comic.

See everyone! Funky fixed himself a cup of cocoa. You can now all stop complaining about Funkyverse females being subservient beverage providers. Because the fact that the women brought cocoa was the real issue here, and not the fact that lacking a Y-chromosome relegates you to a background fixture serving as a bland chorus of reacting to men.

I’m really really really tired of writing about Mort Winkerbean. Especially about Mort Winkerbean the ‘Alzheimer’s’ patient who now can magically talk, walk, reason, and remember past events. I had a grandma who had Alzheimer’s, and believe it or not, Mort stories 10 years ago captured a hint of the pathos involved with having relatives with dementia.

Which makes seeing Mort magically resurrected a huge f**k you to the audience he was earlier pandering to. If I could tell Tom Batiuk one thing, it is that it is infinitely more offensive to magically cure a ‘disabled’ person that you created to abuse for a ‘topical’ storyline designed to milk other people’s pain for your profit and praise, than it would be to just have them hit by a bus.

Monotony: The Slow-Dreary Postponing Trysts Game.

Link to Today’s Comic.

We finally get to the Holly that’s been gracing the header this week; and she accurately depicts how I’m feeling about having to wring some humor from an entire week of passive paternal cockblocking. I mean, I’ve used Hasbro products to cockblock before, sure; but it take seconds to show men a room with hundreds of tiny action figures all staring right at the twin mattress. The ‘sleepless’ mood is gone much quicker than four days of tired people whining about Monopoly.

Can we get Batiuk some plotting Viagra? He has severe protractile dysfunction. He saws away at the same joke for an eternity, never progressing, until all excitement is lost and the story limply stops. The next Monday Batiuk changes plots, like changing the subject after an embarrassing silence.

Regarding the art today, Mort is grabbing his inner thigh while leering aggressively. Funky’s horror is justified. Even if his flesh-colored eyeline suggests he is more shocked by how shittily drawn the dice on the board are.