Having satisfied her simian sexual appetites, as well as getting in a “bonding moment” with her child, Jessica has hastened back to L.A.—the world must not be made to wait any longer for that very important Butter Brinkel documentary! She’s probably been back in town barely long enough to unpack her suitcase; long enough to compel Darin to show his “caring” by sending her a package. Rather, “one of” his packages, which suggests this is a thing with him. Batiuk persists in depicting Darin and Jessica as these two starry eyed, young sweethearts, tragically kept apart by their respective, oh-so-important careers.
Tag Archives: Flash treadmill
See this. This is really depressing in light of yesterday. Yesterday Burchett drew two really fun panels, and showed us that he can do better. Today he couldn’t even manage to phone it in. He had to drunk dial it. I imagine him splayed across his drafting desk, bottle of scotch in one hand, pen in the other, resting his head directly on the desk while scratching this out with one eye open. Or more likely, he doodled it with a stylus on his smart phone in fifteen minutes while on the can, and emailed it directly to the colorist.
Either way, a Charger Chimp sounds like some kind of stupid portable multi-port wireless device battery pack that would be advertised on TV very early in the morning. Use it in your car! Use it on a plane! Any place want, any device you want, your little charging pocket buddy is there for you. Buy the Charger Chimp today! Only $19.99 plus shipping and handling. But wait! There’s MORE!!!!
It’s my call and I have to tell you right now that covers with gorillas on them are total locks.
Tom Batiuk, 1/6/18
I doubt that today’s strip (or anything in Funky Winkerbean) accurately depicts the way comic books are produced in the real world…I mean, you come up with a “flagship title” after you’ve launched the company? I do think that what’s reflected here is Batiuk’s own creative process, wherein he paces the floor and muses out loud (or maybe TB’s got his own Cosmic Treadmill), before settling on some half-baked, flimsy premise, and then hollering “YESSSSSSSS!!!” so loudly as to attract the attention of passersby.
Speaking of comic books, guest author comicbookharriet serves up the snark for the next two weeks. Bon appetit!
Today’s strip is squick
Squick of the highest order
Gross in every way
“The Cosmic Treadmill”
“Yeah… that and in the shower”
These are words to fear
Why is Mindy here?
Is she unemployed or what?
A real catch there, Pete
Not that Pete is much
To write home about, Mindy
Well… he is a creep
Is Mindy working?
Why did I even ask this?
Just Funky works, duh
This strip makes me both
Want to take a shower and
Not, at the same time
Today’s strip is finally up, and it looks like we’re in for another week of the Ratty Atom Bullpen… or maybe it’s a Pete and Mindy week… or maybe it’s a descent to the Nth circle of hell (one can only hope).
So Mindy has just seen Pete strolling on the Flash treadmill for the first time. If she’s still dating him in tomorrow’s strip, we can confirm her standards are even more depressingly low than once though. Could have had Mooch Myers… Could have. *sigh*
Today’s strip is finally up.
I was desperately hoping that my return to the writer’s helm after months of this meandering nonsense would be the magical talisman to break this unending inanity. I was there when this plot started in February, and maybe now it could end.
No such luck. Pete is plodding along on his Cosmic Treadmill…using awful word association to come up with cut-rate characters. I’m sure that the Floodlight, or the Floodmaster, or Floody McFlooderson the World’s Wettest Woman, will be nothing more than a name, a costume, a gimmick, and an even worse arch nemesis with drought powers. No Batman or Captain America levels of backstory, built in angst, creeds, and psychological insight. Just a stupid idea, personified.
Floods of biblical proportions can’t drown shallow characters. They’re hollow and insubstantial rising to the top and clinging together in a choking mat of garbage.
Yes I am comparing TomBat’s idea of ‘comicbook characters’ with the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.
I’d like to take a moment to thank TFH, our contributors and our loyal readers for standing tall during this ponderous and plodding time. He’s obviously trying to break our collective will here and the stand you’ve all taken during this extremely tedious time will never be forgotten. If Monday rolls around and Funky is jogging or something it’ll be like emerging into daylight after some sort of long protracted siege of dullness or a really boring natural disaster of some kind.
And speaking of time that’ll never be forgotten, I must have fallen into a lengthy coma and missed several months of strips, as AK is apparently already up and running and brimming with treadmill inspired brilliance. He crammed several seconds of story into the first eleven and a half weeks of this thing and now suddenly, completely out of nowhere, everything has abruptly lurched forward in the most boring way possible. I mean maybe I’m wrong and this was just the most productive day in the history of new comic book companies but given the characters we’re talking about here that seems very unlikely.
I just really want Pete, Boy Lisa, Chester and AK to go away for a while…a long while. I usually complain when he just abandons story threads and never resolves them but in this case I’m genuinely rooting for it to happen.
As BatLoad’s interest in his latest “offbeat” comic book fantasy begins to wane, he’s resorting to old comic book fantasy gags to grudgingly haul another pointless week to the Saturday finish line. This arc is the comic strip equivalent of dragging a soggy ruined carpet out of the basement. In today’s time-bending installment the ol’ Eaton building is a dynamic hub of activity with all sorts of whimsical subcontractors and comic book memorabilia delivery people buzzing around like worker bees. Things sure do move fast once every eleven weeks in the Funkyverse.
“Hello, Pete Reynolds? This is Bob over at Pre-Cog Shipping and Delivery…anticipating and meeting your shipping and delivery needs before you knew you had any since 1979. Just wanted to let you know your movie prop and treadmill are on their way to the location you’ll be working at and we’ll be billing you with your Visa card, the number, expiration date and three-digit security code of which we already know. It doesn’t appear that you’ll have any imminent issues or concerns, so have a great day!”
Anyway, it’s Boy Lisa’s stupid treadmill, not Pete’s, so when and where he used it to “think” is (sigh) yet another never-to-be-solved Batom anomaly, like Becky’s mom or the Food Film truck scam or what year it’s supposed to be. It’s best not to think about it too much, but it’s tough when he gives you so precious little else to focus on.
Oh no…it’s mail…and it’s an entire package too. Sigh, this could take a while, given how Boy Lisa once needed six months to open a single envelope. I really hope it’s evidence proving that Lisa wasn’t his bio-mom (as if) and the entire Funkyverse implodes upon itself, but the likelihood of that happening seems, uh, slim. It’s a Boy Lisa arc, therefore whatever it is it’ll be dumb beyond belief, that much is guaranteed.
And get a load of Pete/Tom’s little “dig” at lawyers. I guess they’re the scum of the earth…unless some humble little blog makes fun of your silly little comic strip, in which case they’re your pals…ain’t that right, Tom? Pete’s whole world-weary act really gets my goat, I mean the guy lives a fantasy comic book lifestyle most overgrown nerds would kill for yet all he does is gripe, bitch and complain about it. Just shut up and write your little Xaxian stories, you mopey nitwit.