Tag Archives: bricks

Ahhh-Trophy

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Someone, please, make it stop. Today we see just how bad a marching band gag can get, as BatNom reaches the bottom of the barrel, plunges his fist straight through it and grabs a handful of slug and worm-riddled soil beneath said barrel…just because he can. See, the horrible marching band full of useless slacker teens wins SO MANY TROPHIES that they actually need an ENTIRE BUILDING to house them. And fortunately for the marching band, WHS JUST HAPPENS to have an entire building to SELL to the perennially-cash strapped band, which is rather fortuitous if I do say so myself. Everyone wins! Well, almost everyone, as regular FW readers might not consider Becky’s truly obnoxious Dinkle-esque cackle as being a “win”. I do like that weird angle in panel two, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her pinned-up sleeve from that perspective before.

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A Cymbal Of The Decline Of The American Comic Strip

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Fortunately “Hattie” didn’t turn into the pianist, as we all know how painful THAT can be. Once again BanTom finds “humor” in the college sports analogies, this time resorting to absolutely fail-safe comedic gold…head injuries and wordplay. You can’t go wrong there, no sir-ee. Onward drag the marching band gags, at this point I can’t even remember what FW was like before the band gags began. Was it always like this? Did anything else…at all…happen before this brutal onslaught of marching band jokes? Talk about “concussion protocol”, I feel like I’ve been beaten with a sweat sock full of padlocks over here.

Hattie?? Who the hell has named their kid Hattie since the 1920s? Come on, BatNom, get with the times and choose a more era-appropriate name, like Susaynn or Jocelynn or Brittanee or Kyrrsten or Ambyre or Rayne. Even “Hattye” would be more believable.

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Preggers Banquet

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Ugh, more marching band hi-jinx courtesy of the one person on the planet who finds marching bands to be hilariously funny. That BatNom, always pandering to “real life” band directors who enjoy clipping individual marching band-based FW strips and taping them to their filing cabinets…sure, it’s a tiny demographic but an important one nonetheless.

I guess he’s comparing the high-stakes world of high school marching bands to the high-stakes world of college sports here. As I jabbered about last week, these stupid band jokes are only (hypothetically) funny within the context of the old Dinkle character, the over-the-top madman whose entire life revolved around marching band competitions. To do a gag like this you’d first need to establish that the WHS marching band is a cut-throat, deadly serious operation, which is exactly the opposite of how it’s usually depicted. Otherwise it’s this, a listless stupid out-of-context joke delivered by a character whose one defining trait is her missing arm. BanTom always wants it both ways, but the band can’t be this huge intense competitive operation AND full of lazy slackers who never practice. Yet it is.

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Unlike FW And Humor, For Example

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What? I have no idea why this is supposed to be funny. Totally irrelevant punch line, no wordplay, just a strange inexplicable statement that, based on the reactions of the characters, is apparently supposed to be a joke of some sort. “Candy and culture go hand in hand”…I suppose his daffy marching band antics might pass for “culture” in Westview but even that’s a real stretch. And it still doesn’t make this a real joke either.

That third panel is definitely one of the more bizarre FW panels of the year so far from an artistic perspective. Harriet and Prince Chocula manage to muster polite smiles as a clearly deranged and out-of-touch Dinkle makes an ass of himself within seconds with his bizarre babbling. He looks completely insane there, it’s the drooping eyelids that really send it over the top IMO.

Culture. Candy. Hands…nope. I still don’t see how this is a joke. Apparently the mere concept of band candy sends BanTom into hysterics, but that’s a discussion best saved for another day.

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There You Go Again

Leaving meaningless oil paintings behind in the dilapidated shacks that they deserve to be housed in, today’s strip brings us back to art’s purest and most meaningful form and in its most hallowed of temples…

Well no wonder DSH couldn’t cover his rent back in 2010, he hates the actual function of his business. That 2010 story seems especially relevant to this one, as Funky covered DSH’s rent (and some of his own expenses) by doing exactly what DSH had apparently been failing to do, sell comic books. Now we know that he can hardly bear to part with the things that his business is supposed to part with.

I do not recall this “McKenzie Collection” but I assume it has something to do with Crankshaft’s elderly neighbor. I’d try to track down more info but I’m researched out right now, sorry.

Thanks for sticking with us through the last month, which included a couple of the most asinine and one of the funkiest strangest weeks in recent Funky memory. Sosf David O will be your driver starting next week, and should do a better job steering around the potholes than I did… and there WILL be p(l)otholes.

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Chess Flub

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Oh, because they both include the word “club”. I get it. I mean hey, I’ll take Bernie over Les, Lisa and Darin any day of the week but still, this is a really weak (and not especially timely) gag.

Speaking of Dick Facey, the header seems to indicate that we’re in for at least a week of more Lisa wallowing, just what absolutely no one was clamoring for. Believe me, I’ll have plenty to say about that, as nothing enrages me more than Batiuk’s pathetic Lisa fetish does. That pic is nauseating beyond words, just like everything else involving BanTom’s imaginary girlfriend. Stay tuned as billytheskink takes over and bravely leads us through Tomban’s latest deranged Lisa fantasy! Stay Funky and keep that barf pail handy!!

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Long Term Failing

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A funnier premise would have been to simply have Funky get nabbed parking in a handicapped spot, then pouring forth his litany of woe to the cop who eventually (weepingly) agrees that yeah, Funky Winkerbean is definitely “handicapped” all right. It’s a pretty ham-fisted gag that will probably annoy way more people than it amuses, unless it’s taped to the door at traffic court or something, as nothing spells out “I’m a real dick” better than blithely parking in a handicapped space. Maybe tomorrow he could operate heavy machinery while taking prescription drugs or block the intersection at every red light.

Normally Les is the “total jerk-off” character, Funky was always more of an affable-yet-eternally downtrodden sad-sack. Suddenly though, we’re seeing a pissier side of the Funk-Man, going back to Bull’s retirement game where Funky sat in the crowd disinterestedly cracking wise about WHS’ beloved brain-damaged football coach. And I don’t like it one bit, either.

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