Tag: Montoni's

Before the Sun Burns Out

For those of you who are new to the Funkiverse: Jessica must always follow the words “my Dad” with “John Darling.” And for those of you who understandably are unable to recall where she left off with her documentary…well, the last time she even mentioned it was almost a year ago…

…right before she got sidetracked and derailed by the return of Darin’s “bio-dad” Frankie, and, after that, giving birth to a son. Now armed with her trusty old VHS camcorder (and her copy of Les’ first book) our Jess is set to re-re-resume her quest. There’s a surprising note of self-deprecation in panel 3, and I wonder if it comes from Jessica or from her creator: remember she’s been telling everybody about this supposed documentary since she and Darin popped up three years ago…

Bus-Ted

SoSFDavidO here, looking forward to see what TomBat has done with 8 panels of glorious color–*peeks at strip* Oh hell, forget it.

The Black Hole of misery that is Westview claims another life, our own massively popular television anchorwoman from ABC is being let go for being too old. As many a snarker has pointed out, unless Cindy was born before Diane Sawyer (and who can tell, the way time jumps are) that shouldn’t be a problem.

In journalism, age can actually be an asset. You’ve built rapport and trust for 20, 30 years in some cases. Everyone knows you’re older. No one cares if you have crow’s feet, they care about if they can believe what you’re telling them or not.

But that’s the way the real world works. This is the Funkyverse, where Mopey Pete leaves New York City to live above a pizza joint and then leaves for New York again with no explanation.

Mope mope mope. Served up hot and fresh in today’s strip.

Bazoomba Class

SoSFDavidO here, limping through another blog post!

Riddle me this, Funksters! What took place these past for days that couldn’t have been done with ONE damn panel like the first panel in today’s strip?

I thought I liked comics. Now I’m not so sure any more. It’s like seeing a kid you can’t stand in school wearing a shirt with your favorite band on it. And that word, bazoombas. Somone hit me in the face with a frying pan, it’d be less painful than imagining Donna saying that.