Tag Archives: mail

by | November 3, 2022 · 10:30 pm

Eliminated

Today’s strip

The Eliminator, who has been presented all week as an important figure in Westview’s history, walks through the front door. Funky proudly tells Summer “but here comes the person you really need to talk to! A man!”

This is like when Ruby Lith was elected to the Comic-Con Hall of Fame, and the strip replaced her with Phil Holt in the middle of her own press conference. Tom Batiuk thinks he’s an advocate for women with his showy, award-grubbing, phony empowerment stories. But Funky Winkerbean‘s day-to-day treatment of women is very different.

Donna’s sarcastic expression is perfect. “Oh, don’t mind me, I’m nobody important. I’ll just turn my head to look at my own pictures on that ‘history wall’ you’re studying. Which I earned at age 12. You want a real insight into Westview’s ‘social dynamics’? Ask me why I hid my gender from these people.”

That’s it. I’ve got nothing else to say. Today’s strip speaks for itself.

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by | December 26, 2021 · 10:30 pm

Thanks for Making Us All March in the Rain

Thanks to BillytheSkink for guiding us through “Wild Mort’s Love Life, Chapter XVIII”. I’m sure I’ve said it before, but seeing Dinkle in a strip on a Monday is the worst thing to me, since you know you’re getting (at least) another week of him. At least with Les there’s more to make fun of, and something might actually happen. With Dinkle all you get now is “isn’t Dinkle awesome?”, basically. And know you have the horror of Mort and Lillian popping up at any moment.
One of the weirdest things with how Dinkle is written is how he’s simultaneously portrayed as a maniac and borderline-fascist band director that everyone hated but also a beloved figured who improved the lives of everyone he touched. It seems like the majority of the actual band directing we see him do involves making people walk in hurricanes and risk their lives, so I’m not really sure why there’s a box of envelopes that’s stacked so high there’s no way anyone could have carried it. (Speaking of carrying, I’m very confused about how exactly Becky was handling that box, based on the arrangement in the first panel).
Oh, and Becky was one of Dinkle’s students and then became a band director. That’s the punchline for today’s strip.

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by | December 23, 2019 · 10:31 pm

Post Offal

Link To Today’s Strip

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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by | September 20, 2019 · 10:31 pm

Mail Day Part Six…The Repeating

Link To Today’s Strip

In case you missed yesterday’s strip, Linda has at long last opened the mail. And, as a helpful service to his loyal readers who he obviously respects and adores very, very much, he thoughtfully repeated the last two panels of yesterday’s installment in the first panel today! You know, just in case you happen to be a total idiot who can’t remember something you just read less than twenty-four hours ago. What a novel way to pad a story and make it appear to be much more substantive than it actually is. Sigh. Ten weeks. Sigh again. It goes from annoying to comical to annoying to comical over and over again.

Coming next week: After re-re-re-reading the letter fails to make the contents of said letter change, Linda elects to put the letter down and walk to another room of her house. Tension builds. Weeks pass. Nothing happens.

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by | September 18, 2019 · 10:31 pm

Mail Day Part Four…The Pondering

Link To Today’s Strip

Nothing spells “storytelling” like using no dialog at all day after day after (sigh) day. Turns out the letter is from (peppy marching band music) the National Football League, America’s preeminent and benevolent Fun Time Sports League, the league that once gave an already-ruined and addle-brained Bull Bushka a shot at the big time, a shot he of course totally botched. Why, my guess is they’re going to give Bull a retroactive fifty million dollar “Nice Try, Local Sports Hero, Get Well Soon!” grant that he can use to beat this CTE thing once and for all! So what is she WAITING for? OPEN THE LETTER LINDA, OPEN THE LETTER!

No, because a CERTAIN SOMEONE who just happens to have a lot of extra Pulitzer space around the house decided to give away the entire outcome of his big Prestige Mega-Arc weeks ahead of time, we know the letter is actually from the non-fictional and maliciously malevolent (ominous scary music) NFL (trademark!), the heartless and amoral pro sports concern that cruelly turned Bull’s brain into putty and now laughs at his feeble prayers for help as it sacrifices billions of dollars a day to Lord Satan himself upon its blackened altar of young broken men’s ruined bodies. Otherwise she wouldn’t have brought it upstairs to her bedroom to open it, because in every cornball sitcom scenario like this one when a female character gets bad news in letter form she must have pillows handy in which to throw herself upon reading said news. Don’t lie, ladies, we all know this stereotype is 100% true, otherwise they wouldn’t be allowed to do it on TV. Anyhow, it’s a near certainty that the letter will utterly destroy Linda and turn her into a humorless wad of wryness (it’ll be tough to tell sometimes, though) and viciously mock Bull, his life and everything he ever believed in while coldly sneering at his pitiful plight. Or something similar but less dramatic.

The next installment of this thing isn’t dropping til midnight tomorrow. Not that it matters much, as we all already know what’s going to happen thanks to a CERTAIN SOMEONE who just couldn’t stop yapping and flapping his gums about it. There were a dozen ways to go about it without saying “and then the lead character kills himself” followed by actually running the climactic strip a MONTH ahead of time, but in all the excitement a CERTAIN SOMEONE couldn’t be bothered to care about shit like his dumb stupid readers or their “opinions” of him. Man, I’ll never forgive him for that blunder, it would have been the biggest day in SoSF history since that prom scenery came out as gay. I really hope that pillar eventually found someone, you know?

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