Tag Archives: Holly

Glad To See You Go

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Garbage dump week continues with a big heaping load of a Sunday strip, one that was perhaps best left in the “emergency only” folder. It seems that Ol’ Man Winkerbean likes to be on “E” before he leaves the house, which is way, way more than we really need to know about Funky if you ask me.

So this is the last Sunday strip of the 2010s. I’d really love to see the whole lot of them assembled in book form, he could maybe call it “Meh…It’s Just The Sunday Strip” or something equally catchy. Just think, there have been over 500 of these over the last ten years and I’ll be damned if I can really remember more than seven or eight of them.

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Post Offal

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I don’t know what happened to him at his mid-central Ohio post office of choice but judging by his unrelenting hate for the USPS I’d be willing to wager that it was quite unpleasant and inconvenient. But putting his terrible trauma and lifelong grudge aside for a moment, it IS the post office, not the Make Tom’s Day office. You go in, you do your mail business and you leave. Sometimes there’s a line and sometimes the employee you deal with is a real dick. We’ve all been there and we all stew over it during the walk back to the car, but then we (meaning normal people) forget about it almost immediately. In other words, he really needs to get the f*ck over it already. It’s Christmas for God’s sake.

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Dim Bulbs

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Q: How many Westviewians does it take to change a light bulb?

A: Just one but it’ll take a really, really long time and ultimately be disappointing, confusing and possibly fatal to everyone involved.

I don’t know about you but these Christmas-themed strips are really beginning to grind my gears, man. He didn’t even check to see if the lights were plugged in first? What an imbecile. Do these Westviewian couples ever communicate with one another or what? Linda had no idea what Bull was doing, Cayla had no idea what Les was watching and now Holly is gaslighting Funky with Xmas lights. What a bunch of self-centered jerks. No one in this stupid strip is ever just having a plain old normal good time, even the smallest things are an endless tide of frustration and angst.

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The Ego And The Idiot

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Or you could just TELL US what Funky forgot. Geez Louise, this one is glacially-paced even by FW throwaway arc standards. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll turn out to be his tax return and the IRS will arrest him and shutter Montoni’s forever, prompting a town-wide recession and eventual riot in which Les Moore is killed by a vicious mob of unemployed pizza-starved goons. I mean I doubt it, but you gotta have hope. But alas, it’s probably just be something incomprehensibly stupid like it always is.

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Fuggetaboudit

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Hey now, forgetting things was Bull’s shtick. And it didn’t end well, in case you’ve already forgotten like most of FW’s readership has. Anyway, the mind reels at the possibilities here. Well, “reels” might be too strong a word, it’s really more like a disinterested creaking of sorts. Like with every FW story, he really could have condensed this a bit but that horse escaped the barn many decades ago, along with the jokes.

Coming tomorrow: Funky suddenly remembers what he forgot and the strip ends with a silent panel showing Tony’s skeletal remains in the basement storeroom, complete with fingernail claw marks on the locked door. Across the land, stunned FW readers ask in unison “who the hell is Tony?”.

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Do You Believe In Life After High School?

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Repeating the premise over and over always makes it funnier. Repeating the premise over and over always makes it funnier. See? There’s probably no cheaper dialog than “I can’t believe…”. “I can’t believe you knew Turtle Thompson!”…”I can’t believe how that guardrail just crumbled!”…”I can’t believe it’s been twelve years plus maybe ten more since Lisa died!”…a simple time-killing tactic courtesy of a simple time-killing man. If this was any other “writer” on the planet, the idea that he could get six full days out of this premise would really strain credulity. But here? Not so much.

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Locked And Bloated

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Well you definitely won’t laugh,

Or be entertained

Reading this thing is rotting my brain

Tom Batiuk is coming to town….

As always special thanks to TFH, the real brains behind this nutty operation! If you only knew what’s involved in making fun of this dopey comic strip…

It’s an extremely rare Sunday-into-Monday arc this week. He only saves those for the really groundbreaking stories. The idea well must have been running pretty dry when he dreamed this one up. I’m (sigh) roughly the same age as (sigh) Funky is supposed to be and I think about high school once a year, if that, on average. But Funky is still having gross sweaty fevered dreams about something he hasn’t done in thirty-five years, even though he has way, way, way more than enough post-high school trauma to draw nightmare fodder from. Perhaps he’ll decide enough is enough and drive his car off a cliff, although we’ve all seen his car and it seems unlikely that it’d go fast enough to do much damage. Still, though, it might be pretty amusing anyway.

In my decrepit 1980s-era high school, the first thing we did on the first day back was kick the locker door at the bottom, after which it’d just open with a kick and a pull. They weren’t exactly top-of-the-line lockers. The convenience far outweighed the lack of security. That’s what the gym lockers were for, as they were these big iron prison-issue things. People (ahem, cough cough Tom Batiuk) like to look back nostalgically and pretend everything was “better” way back then but in reality we were all surrounded by junk. Everything was really crappy and cheap and don’t let any cartoonists tell you otherwise.

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