Tag Archives: Funky

Why don’t you go out and catch him?

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We’re only on our second day with Isaac the Robot Manservant, and Funky is already tired of the tin can. Look at his poor face in panel two. He was briefly excited at the idea of conversing with a sentient android of unknown origin. But the robot is just another smarmy asshole. Like everyone else in Westview.

Which is too bad, because robots make the best smarmy assholes. Marvin, Bender, HK-47, L-Ron, Lore. The only robot type more popular has to be the wide-eyed innocent Johnny Five type. Unfortunately for Isaac he apparated in the universe of insufferable twits, where his personality is only so much white noise and static.

Thank you to everyone who pointed out yesterday that our metallic mirage is supposed to be a Starbuck Jones side character who was shown on several of Batiuk’s prized commissioned comic covers he loudly auctioned off for roughly the price of a used car. I guess it explains why Funky would hallucinate him. The bulbed-headed desk lamp is probably rattling around in his subconscious from seeing him on the covers of comics when Holly was collecting.

Horrifying covers like this one.

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Aberrations of Aerators.

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I said it yesterday, and it was reinforced by our crack cadre of commentators: THOUGHT BUBBLES, TOM. Your characters already act twice as robotic as the Futurama reject threatening to lap your doughy, eponymous, supposed ‘protagonist’. Having them also loudly narrate the world around them is as jarring, messy, and unnecessary as a watermelon speedbump on the autobahn.

I have no idea what that thing in panel one is supposed to be. I know what an aerator is, I’ve seen several up close, and that is like no aerator I recognize. Please, in the comments, let me know if you’ve ever seen anything like this being used for turfgrass management. Because it looks to me like a corkscrew mated with Johnny Five.

Apparently it’s not like any aerator that Google images has ever seen either. Heaven only knows what forensic specialists would make of my search terms from the last several hours.

“Aerator”
“Field Aerator”
“Football Field Aerator”
“Handheld Football Field Aerator”
“Handheld Mechanic Football Field Plug Aerator.”
“Bender Futurama”

I did, however, find a very nice pair of shoes that I’d like someone to wear while kicking Les Moore in the face.

Bam! Pow! Right in the kisser!

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Senseless Sisyphean Soliloquy.

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Comic Book Harriet here; stretching out her snarking muscles to warm up for this marathon of nonsense.

A long long time ago, when the world was young and Bush was president, I decided to join the Cross Country team. I wouldn’t call what I did on that team ‘running’, because that is an gross insult to the vital skill set that allowed our ancestors to chase down game and flee sabertooth tigers. If we are being extremely generous, we could call my half-hearted efforts ‘jogging’. Just like you could be generous and call the multicolored scribbles of a toddler ‘art’.

As my oxygen deprived brain would send gasping signals to my leaden legs to shuffle forward in a jerky shamble, my entire torso was consumed in the effort of sucking in air and huffing it out like I had swallowed a miniature iron lung.

Sometimes, when one of the more naturally athletic teammates would approach from behind to lap me, (again), they would attempt to engage me in conversation; but a few painfully wheezed one word replies were all I could ever manage.

Never in a million years would I have taken the effort and energy and oxygen to laboriously explain to myself, on an empty track, self-evident and pointless facts OUT LOUD.

Thought bubbles, Tom. They’re a thing.

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Weight Grifting

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Sigh. Nothing like two days of gags about the pin on a weightlifting machine. Killing time in an arc that itself exists to kill time…the Batiukian Paradox. Thank God it’s Saturday.

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Pin Pull Wizard

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These “Funky at the gym” arcs don’t really give you a lot of material to work with. Another bland gag from a bland character in a bland setting in a bland comic strip. Of course it could be worse, but that’s all relative. At least it’s kind of a joke, so there is that. In fact in December you could go back and review 2020 and pick out the ten “best” individual strips and this one would probably make the cut, which is not an endorsement. Actually it’s downright depressing.

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E-Fail

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Ha! Fooled ya! Funky isn’t dying, at least not today. If you missed yesterday’s “real” strip, no you didn’t. Funky on the treadmill reading e-mails…one of FW’s most beloved “running” gags. Get it? Anyhow, Lard Ass has been going to that gym for the better part of a decade now, so you’d think he wouldn’t be quite this imbecilic by this point.

And that BatHam, always with the e-mail gags. It’s like how my parents were with VCRs, this internet stuff will never not be voodoo to him, no matter how dated it gets.

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Sheer Heart Attack

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Finally, some genuine mid-week suspense for a change. Is he going to play this for laughs or are we about to travel down Batiuk’s Dark Path yet again? The last time Funky had to face his own mortality all sorts of hi-jinx ensued, not the least of which was the birth of “Starbuck Jones”. Maybe this time Funky will go back in time and tell BatYam to forget all about this “serious” new direction of his and go back to writing gags before it’s too late. I can’t see this being quite that ambitious, but a good ol’ Funky health scare beats the hell out of four more days of gym jokes. It’s way funnier too.

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The Entire Funky Winkerbean Experience In One Panel

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Every once in a while a work of art comes along that completely encapsulates the very act of experiencing it. Ladies and gentlemen, I submit to you panel one, the work that every FW strip parodist has been striving for since Photoshop 1.0. IMO it’s easily the pinnacle of Act III thus far. If BatYam’s entire career is remembered only for this, it was all worth it. When they someday build the FW Hall Of Fame panel one will be hanging in the entrance foyer. If he made T shirts of this I’d definitely buy one.

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The Winterbean Of Our Malcontent

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Where’s Fitness Girl? She was actually one of the less irritating characters in the strip. But of course, just like with Buddy, he had to go and f*ck it all up. Fitness Bro’s already getting on my nerves and ordinarily a “Funky Goes To The Gym” arc is like Ambien with none of the cool side effects but in all seriousness I was genuinely relieved when I saw it wasn’t about Lisa and her stupid f*cking ashes and benches again. And I know you are too.

The guy who writes this thing really, really sucks at naming his strips, you know? “John Darling” gives you no indication that the strip is about a wacky TV host or whatever he was supposed to be before Batom spitefully killed him off. “Crankshaft” has all sorts of hilarious connotations and if he was unaware of those connotations that only makes it funnier. And of course there’s “Funky Winkerbean”, a title that practically demands a “huh?” from anyone who hears it. I mean it probably sounded totally hysterical under a black light with a homemade honey bear bottle bong under a “Just Hang In There, Baby” poster, but sometimes perhaps it’s a better idea to refrain from mailing the letter to the trademark office until the next morning. You can’t even say it out loud without getting confused glances, as it sort of sounds vaguely obscene in a weird G-rated way. Bet you he wishes he could have that one back.

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Kitchen Nightmares

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Ooooh. Les’ Kent State shirt is back! He used to wear it on the regular but I looked and he hasn’t been seen in it since March 2017. At least, I assume it’s a Kent State shirt. The sloppy way it’s drawn, I had previously took it for some kind of tribal symbol, or a bad Stargate fan shirt.

Speaking of sloppy drawing, there’s a non-sequitur of art in every panel today. In panel one Les hand disappears into Funky’s chest like he’s coping a feel. Or attempting to reenact that famous scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. In panel two Les’ face has melted into a Bell’s Palsy grimace as he hunches over the inky blackness of Funky’s coat, looking for all the world like he’s just grabbed the head of a tiny Nazgul.

Panel three we get a tiny bowl of balls invading the speech bubble atop the fridge. Are they oranges? Who puts oranges on top of the fridge? Are they novelty clown noses, tucked away for some kinky kitchen roleplay? Also in panel three we have the return of our Theme Of The Week: Funky making a horrified shocked face. Today’s offering has the overtones of ‘electric prostrate exam’ we’ve enjoyed thus far, but follows it up with a hint of ‘trousers full of spiders’ for good measure.

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