Tag Archives: Crazy Harry

There’s Always Someone Around You

Link to today’s strip.

And another strip unavailable for preview.  Of course, that’s typical for Sundays so no surprises there.  I dare say, if I may be so bold, that it has been quite some time since we last saw Funky and Les running.  Or we might just get more Dinkle.

Anyway, for my first time back in the chair in a while, let’s recall the wonders we witnessed recently during my stint:  Wally got a pizza party and Dinkle looked for food.  When your strip is just jammed full of action and adventure like that, you should certainly expect the awards to roll on in!   You’d also expect people to buy your books, not only for themselves but as gifts for others!  I mean, who wouldn’t want a boxed set of Dinkle’s entire Claude Barlow witlessisms?  Sure, maybe the Norms would balk, but they’re not on award committees so they can be ignored.  And ignored with gusto!

Well!  That’s it for me, at least for the present.  It’s time to hand off this cold, damp slice of pizza off to the Stunningly Suave SpacemanSpiff85!    He’ll focus his fearsome frap-ray blaster on the festering fools who fill Funky‘s foul fiefdom–for a fortnight!

Thank you all for your indulgence!  And now, exit–stage right!

 

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It’s A Lot Like A Comic Strip But Without The Jokes

Link to today’s strip.

I was kind of hoping (as I’m sure most of you were) that Sunday’s Dinkle was a one-off, but all hopes come to Funky Winkerbean to die.  I’d be happy to have a week of John and Harry talking about an event that they’ve never been to, but when the chance to shovel in Dinkle rears its ugly head, Batiuk jumps in with both feet.

I hate characters like Les and Darrin, but it’s Dinkle that really pushes the loathing lever to FULL.  Both Les and Darrin are obnoxious, untalented dullards who whine when the universe rewards them richly, but neither one is treated like a sage wise oracle the way Dinkle is.  And he is utterly undeserving of such worship, but he’s based on a beloved teacher of Batiuk so he gets lionized.

Gah.  I say Gah again, sir.

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Cot In The Middle With You

Link To Today’s Snore

And today we learn way, way too much about John and Becky Howard’s unholy union. She hasn’t seemed all that “intense” this week, although she WAS smirking a lot, so who knows? I do like Crazy’s expression in panel three though, it’s sort of a mix between mild shock and slight disgust, which is totally appropriate given the subject matter. I assume that Dinkle also has a cot in the band room so he can tell Becky how to sleep and when to wake up, otherwise how would she know?

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Please DON’T have mistletoe.

Link to Today’s Comic.

I stayed up late waiting for this strip to drop. And thank Dead St. Lisa, we are no longer having ‘the talk.’ Instead Holly and Funky are entertaining their only two repeat customers.

And, actually, today’s strip is amusing enough, and does point out an actual weird lyric in a famous song. (There is a historical explanation,, but it’s within character for the Funky Bunch to not know it.) It isn’t a completely dead tradition though, I remember one Christmas where, on the tree, were envelopes with cash inside. Pretty good presents on that tree that year.

I have a feeling that Holly would hate me though. As a child that grew up on way too much MST3K, my logic sensors are primed to sniff out any tiny inconsistency and snark on it. What I’m saying is, I’m really relating to Funky in today’s strip…and isn’t that a terrifying thought.

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Sloppy Second Place.

Link to Today’s Comic.

So Tom at least realized that is would be beyond crass to have ‘Lisa’s Story’ WIN the award. We’ve learned something about the lines he will and wont cross.

But when you thought the plotline couldn’t get any weirder or more half-assed, we don’t get to see the announcing of the award, or the immediate reaction. We jump from before the award being announced to some time following later.

I would hate to be Tom’s wife, the man has trouble experiencing a climax. Everything is foreplay to him, followed by a blackout and then an awkward denouement. Since his massive Atomic Komix startup saga tapered off even his foreplay has been perfunctory. Perhaps we are entering the era of endless quickies, shorter and shorter storylines eventually turning the strip back into the one shot comic it once was.

Panel One: Cayla hands her ‘Honey’ divorce papers.
Panel Two: Les drinks while being insulted by an imaginary cat.
Panel Three: Les asks out an attractive woman at a book fair.

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Whistling Dicksie

Link to Today’s Comic.

Well Darin and Jess are already drunk, and are hanging all over each other like two kids necking at the back of the old Valentine Theatre. Jess has lost a finger. In fact all the hands are extra hideous today. And Cayla is missing a neck. What a treat!

Les has absolutely no grounds to be ashamed of a friend making a scene, but it’s nice to see him miserable anyway.

Something I had never really noticed until I was examining the last panel is how the Funkyverse house art style generally doesn’t include lip tint. Normally it doesn’t stand out. But Jess today, with fully detailed lips, really should have them colored nice and pink or red, as would befit a lady at an awards show. instead she has a terrifying flesh colored pucker on her face, like she has an asshole for a mouth.

Cayla has an asshole for a mouth too. But his name is Les.

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Self-Defrecating Humor.

Link to Today’s Comic.

Today’s strip is merely an inverse retread of yesterday’s strip, and commenting about Les being an insufferable twit has become an exhausting refrain. So instead some notes on the art.

In Panel one Cayla has a gross lobster hand deformity and seems to be putting her finger directly into her drink, no doubt slipping herself a mickey.

Darin and Jess have identical poses and smiles, which REALLY ups the creep factor between the two of them. Are we sure they’re not actually half-siblings? I wouldn’t put a little statutory indiscretion beyond Jess’s father, the talk show host, John Darling, who was murdered. Lisa could have been paid off to pin the deed on some jerk she got blackout drunk. Explains how she afforded law school.

Darin’s jacket is the same color as Cayla’s skin. I’m sure a Freshman Social Sciences major could write a seven page paper about the subtle metaphor of white male privilege clothing and protecting itself with by adopting the exterior trappings, the skin, of persecuted classes of society. But I think the colorist just was really really lazy today and only used six colors.

In the last panel, Les’ massive hand couldn’t really be attached to either shoulder as drawn. Instead it seems to extend directly from his crotch, pointing upward. A huge, disgusting, awards erection.

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