Compliments Of The Louse

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“A beautiful work of art”…wish fulfillment much, TomBat? Obviously we’re about to get a crash course in Hollywood scumbaggery courtesy of Clay Wallace, who will gently explain how Hollywood needs to take his work of utter genius and pack it full of dick, boob and fart jokes so the unwashed sweaty slobbering masses on either side of the country can digest it properly. Because that’s what these Hollywood scumbags do for a living, at least according to a certain gazebo-loving mid-central Ohioian who prefers his simple small town ways to the sleazy glitz and tawdry glamor of the Big City, which is probably why no one’s ever optioned FW (or that other strip he does) for a film deal. What other reason could there be, eh?

Check out the smug look on his puss in panel three. The Delicate Genius doing what he does best, basking in praise. What a dick. And why is the cat still following him around? This must be quite confusing to newer (ha) readers unfamiliar with this particular rehashed gimmick. Hell, I’m confused myself and I read this crap every day, you know?

“A beautiful work of art”…oh man, that’s just hilarious. It’s just the cancer book in screenplay form, how fundamentally different could it possibly be? It’s just so funny how the fictional cancer book is a revelatory work of literary brilliance but the real cancer book is just a colllection of depressing cartoons. The whole author/avatar Les/Tom thing is always irritating but especially so during these stupid cancer book arcs, it’s just so obnoxious.

The Fix Is In

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And so it begins, TB’s ultimate wish-fulfillment arc, the one where he really lets those Hollywood scumbags have it via his unique mix of wry annoying sarcasm and maudlin, bland pathos. Just look at this Wallace jerk, already oozing smug smarm all over the place as he plots his scheme to turn Les’ beloved cancer book into some sort of softcore cable porn nightmare. Poor LesTom, always being forced to defend the cancer book’s honor against those who would soil it with their greasy thumbprints and perverse suggestions. No wonder he can’t eat or get boners. Les, I mean. I’m not sure about Batom, though.

I see Le Chat is in there too, so prepare for a week ridden with angst, self-loathing and crippling doubt over his special cancer book. “Lisa’s Story”…it’s the book that keeps dropping those shoes, over and over again. (SPOILER ALERT)…she dies at the end.

First Class Jackass

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No, Le Chat, actually it’s a classic case of annoying wuss angst being relentlessly beaten into the ground by a sad old hack. There’s definitely a guy pretending to be a “writer” here and I don’t mean Dickface, either. I have never wanted to see a surface-to-air missile used more than I want to see one used today. F*ck you, Les and f*ck you too, Pulitzer (nominee) Boy. Charles Schulz must be spinning in his grave tonight, poor guy.

This is one of those exceptionally annoying FWs where Les is eminently punchable in every single panel, including the disembodied Sunday strip head. God how I detest and loathe this whiny, simpering moron and his pathetic cancer book. And I likewise detest and loathe the way BatBrain wallows around in his ridiculous writer fantasies, endlessly bitching about the joylessness of it all like it’s the worst possible way to make a living. If it sucks so much then quit, you can always just re-run the old strips “FBOFW”-style, no one will ever notice the difference anyway. What a pair of whiny sorry saps.

Dys-Funktion

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OMG that’s f*cking disgusting. I seriously think I’m going to vomit. Just thinking about it makes me want to retch. Seriously man, that’s the most frightening Funky profile I have EVER seen and I’ve seen them all. Man alive, is that a terrifying drawing or what? If you go from panel to panel it’s like the evolution of early man.

So Les can’t sleep, eat or get erections (bluuurgh) and he hallucinates talking cats who like to chip away at his self esteem. It’s so reassuring to know that Tombat can still relate so well with the everyday people who read his strip, you know? I think it’s safe to say that her comments today pretty much cement Cayla’s status as the least realistic character in the history of fiction because…well, I think it’s pretty obvious why. Nice to see that Montoni’s is as busy as ever too.

Coming next week: “Defenders Of The Faith” starring Les Moore as Tom Batiuk and you beady-eyed nitpickers as “Hollywood”! Cheer for Les as he defends the cancer book’s honor! Weep with him as he recounts the tragic sequence of contrivances that led to her horrible death! Come for the puns…stay for the wordplay! (Remember folks, “Lisa’s Story…The Other Shoe“ is still available wherever fine books collections of old comic strips are sold!)

 

 

Going To Be???

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Well, it’s already Friday so why bother moving the story along at all? Might as well devote the rest of the week to Les, his idiotic imaginary cat and his endless, incessant whining and just start (chortle) “fresh” on Monday, right? It’s been working for forty-plus years so why alter that successful formula now, you know? The way TheAuthor is wallowing in his clever little “writer’s anxiety” fantasy (like he would know anything about it) is just too sickening for words. If he seriously believes this is enjoyable to anyone other than himself he’s either totally delusional or stoned off his gourd on felt-tip fumes again. What a hack.