2022, Lisa.
Lisa, many Lisa 2022.
Lisas?
Lisa January.
Tag Archives: Boy Lisa
Lisa-est Lisa.
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Excre-mint
Here is today’s strip. You all go ahead and tear into it. Not sure I could do much better than the post title anyways.
Sorry, two days to go on my stint and I’m already running on fumes. Even WordPress knows this, somehow. It’s kind of creepy, to be honest… I’ll press on these next two days, but I’m going to set a spell today and see you in the comments.
Speaking of running on empty (and burying the lede, for that matter), Tom Batiuk dropped some news late yesterday that may or may not be relevant to this story arc, the last several months of speculation in the comments, and the future of this website. Some of you all commented on it yesterday. I have plenty of thoughts on this, as I am sure many of you all do. As with today’s strip, I’ll see you in the comments to discuss.
I’m guessing this will get more ink than the strip…
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
The End Of Our Elaborate Plans, The End of Everything That’s Bland
LOL oh, that irrepressible Batton, he’s more fun than a bag of fractured tailbones. You won’t find a lot of individual strips as totally pointless as this one is, and that’s a bold, bold claim. The pretend BatYam is even duller than the real one is, and again, bold claim.
And, for the third day in a row, Boy Lisa just stands there like an imbecile, staring at Batton with that bemused, sort of sympathetic look on his face. Shouldn’t he be hard at work, illustrating Pete’s latest moronic ideas? This Atomik Komix krew needs a real whip-cracker at the helm, like how Retro Pete and Boy Lisa had back in the ol’ Batom Comics days, back when everyone still spelled things correctly. Ol’ Brady wouldn’t have put up with this geezer’s yammering, that’s for damn sure.
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
There’s No Deprecation Like Self-Deprecation Like No Deprecation I Know
That’s right, I’m back for an incredibly rare and extremely courageous third week. I don’t give a damn about what those fancy doctors say, with their “degrees” and their “worrisome test results”, I’m doing it, dammit. Never you mind “why”. If I want to throw myself on a grenade arc for the sake of the SoSF staff, then that’s what I’ll do.
As always, the regret re: doing a third week began immediately upon seeing the Monday strip. More Boy Lisa AND Batton f*cking Thomas…sigh. Maybe if Batton spent a little less time softly making wry, self-deprecating remarks about how mediocre and obscure he is and a little more time working, someone might actually read his stupid strip. He’s one of the dreariest, least-likeable characters in the entire strip, minus maybe Linda, I guess. Why is he even there? He STILL works out every day in the Atomik Komix studio? What, Phil, Flash, Ruby and Pete aren’t already wry and self-deprecating enough for one office?
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Son of Stuck Funky 
Wry Even Bother?
Link To The Strip
Or perhaps Batton could do a demonstration where he shows the youngsters how comic strip authors used to write real jokes, as opposed to wry, self-deprecating observations about how the world passed them by. I mean, who’s more qualified? As usual, Boy Lisa is looking on with that bland, dimwitted look on his face, instead of telling Batton to get the hell out, as any sane human surely would.
Coming later this week: Batton compares himself to: iceboxes, milk in glass bottles, black and white TVs, and fax machines, as a bemused Boy Lisa looks on stupidly. The Pulitzer committee continues its indifference.
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Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Tagged as Atomik Komix, backs of ears, Batton Thomas, Boy Lisa, ceiling tiles, Flash Freeman, Flash treadmill, glasses, social commentary, spotlight background, Three O'Clock High, wry self-deprecation