Tag: Cayla

Auld Lang Shite

What the hell is in that bottle? I thought Funky only “toasted” with real toast these days. Well, the last strip of 2015 will certainly lend credence to the “Tom Batiuk is trolling the hate-readers” theory. Why else would he have the titular character grinningly offer such a grim salutation, even ironically? And if Funky is trying to be funny, he’s the only one in on the joke; everyone else looks either surprised or dismayed.

To be fair, Funky’s entitled to his gloomy outlook. After all, Les has his inflated ego and submissive wife to indulge him. Crazy Harry’s underemployed and loving it. This year, Darin, Pete and Cindy all lucked into exciting careers on the West Coast, and Cindy (Funky’s ex-wife) is engaged to a movie star. Cory Winkerbean’s back stateside and is also planning to get hitched. Bull’s Scapegoats enjoyed a perfect football season. The only arcs involving Funky dealt with his sending Montoni’s band box out to be repaired, and having him relive the Montoni’s bowling team’s victory (a decade ago) over Crankshaft’s team. The rest of his life consists of running the pizza parlor, jogging with smug Les, chauffeuring Cory to and from the airport, doctor visits, and humiliation at the hands of his personal trainer. Our slow shuffle to oblivion indeed. Pick up the pace there, Funkman.

Well, dear friends, as 2015 draws to a close, please accept once again my well wishes on behalf of the team. Cheers and Happy New Year!

Slackin’ and Snackin’

 

I can’t help but wonder how much Les’ fitful creative process—including frequent breaks for things like surfing the web, random showers, and binge eating—is a reflection of Batiuk’s own. At any rate, it’s nice to see Les summon the strength to get his own food for a change rather than have Cayla fetch it to him.

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.

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!

Blightmare

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….