Tag: Holly

Little Old Lady Who?


Most
carelessly-rendered
neon sign ever.

Looks like Batiuk plans on letting the Kilimanjaro Saga unfold on an alternate-week basis…

Today we find ourselves in the familiar confines of Montoni’s. I always asssumed that the lettering in Montoni’s window was a neon sign, but the closeup in panel 2 reveals that the letters are not connected. Maybe they’re painted on, or maybe they’re those gummy window clings? Though that doesn’t explain how they light up.

“The Boss”, meanwhile, is finagling with the guy at the car dealership. Stress, strain, killer-shark issues, and two time jumps have beaten down our titular character to the point where he matter-of-factly renounces his very manhood, self-identifying as “a little old lady”.

Con"Grads"ulations, Class of 2022–err, 2012?

Guest blogger DavidO here, reporting for duty for my last entry before passing the reins back to someone with much more talent than I, TFHackett!

Confusing, impossible to decipher time-jumps aside, Summer and Company (Aka, the nameless, faceless rest of her class) has finally graduated from high school!

Call me an ol’ softy but I can’t find too many faults with Sunday’s strip, aside from the smirk on Summer’s P1 baby picture. It’s actually rather well done and paced at a level that lends itself well to a one-shot Sunday strip.

Enjoy it, Snarkers. Dailies like this are far and few inbetween.

Quarant'anni di Montoni's

Finally, a special occasion that actually deserves to be celebrated at Montoni’s. The joint hasn’t been this packed since Darin discovered breakfast pizza. Everybody’s here…of course, Becky and Wally have to slave away back in the kitchen, and Khan’s been a persona non grata since opening up his own eatery nearly a year ago. Holly and Donna are in the same shot, proving they are not the same person; ditto Summer and Pete (wasn’t he leaving town?). Dead Skunk Head John and Bull are either gazing lovingly at one another or have just finished sharing a joint.

We Are the Champions


Note from TFH: I know that among the readers of this blog there are a number of fans of the Firesign Theatre. It is with great sadness that I share with you the news that founding Firesign member Peter Bergman has succumbed to leukemia at the age of 72.
Firesign Theatre’s Peter Bergman dies at 72,
Los Angeles Times

bobanero
March 7, 2012 at 12:22 pm
…I suspect that in the next couple of days Summer will be sealing the championship with a “Walk Off Free Throw”.

Jeffcoat Wayne
March 9, 2012 at 1:03 am
…Look at the trajectory and spin on that ball, and tell me it’s not headed over the backboard under realistic circumstances.

TheDiva
March 9, 2012 at 1:32 am
…I get the sinking feeling that tomorrow we’re going to see the spirit of the Blessed Saint Lisa guiding the ball into the net on the rebound in defiance of all probability and physics.

TB apparently understands physics about as well as he understands the traveling rule. It could only be the Hand of St. Lisa reaching down today to guide the errant shot through the hoop (hence the incredulous expression on the face of Cedars #3).

Louder
March 8, 2012 at 12:57 am
…A big deal was made that there were 12 seconds on the clock when St. Summer made her dive at the ball, so there has to be at least 8 seconds on the clock. More then enough time for the other team, so it’s not a “walk-of free throw.”

True enough, but you didn’t want to see the inevitable postponed for another week, did you? Didn’t think so. It’s over, Westview wins; big girl Brandy Bowles skulks away dejectedly. On to the pizza party and the Kili climb…

Sum' Mo' Time

Today’s strip is just packed! More of TB’s trademark bald exposition (either that or Holly is so sports-illiterate that she can’t even read a scoreboard). Les looks like he’s about to hurl; must be that flu bug. What the hell is doing Keisha sitting next to the coaches on the bench? Summer’s game face is replaced by a mask of bewilderment as she is handed the ball by Newark, NJ’s Mayor Cory Booker. I think that’s a basketball, although in the POV shot in panel 2, she’s holding it like a flatbread.