Mope Springs Eternal

Link To Today’s Strip

Springtime…a time of rebirth, flowers blooming, leaves sprouting (as opposed to falling), sunshine, mailboxes full of junk mail…yep, a time when a psychotic old bus driver’s fancy turned to the ol’ mail order catalog. No wonder everyone hates him and/or can’t ever remember his name.

Then there’s Pete, who understands ol’ Crankshaft all too well (and has to make the conversation all about himself and comic books, of course). Apparently HE sat on pins and needles waiting for the new “Starbuck Jones” to drop even though it may or may not have already run its course ten or thirty years before he was even conceived. WHY are these two talking about old mail order catalogs at a nursing home? What prompted this completely random old memory? Why is Morton lurking suspiciously in the background? Is he going to buy Chester’s old catalogs for his ol’ pal Crankshaft?

Of course he is. Crankshaft sold his catalog collection to Chester who’s going to sell his catalog collection to Morton who’s going to give them to Crankshaft, because that’s how things always work in the Funkyverse. Then Crankshaft will die and some cold unfeeling health aide will unceremoniously toss his life’s work into the dumpster and the circle of junk will be complete. I mean just look at ol’ Cranky…what the hell is he going to do with two hundred pounds of old catalogs? No one sentimentalizes old garbage quite like BatNut does. Just look at how he keeps re-packaging that stupid old Lisa story…ZING!!!!

Sunday morning, praise the dawning

Link to today’s strip.

As twas ever thus, Sunday’s strip was not available for preview.   I’m going to guess that we’ll get a reprise of the previous week, with Funky and Holly gasbagging about texts and/or Cory, but as a guess, it’s just that.  The actual strip could be anything.  Funky and Les jogging, comic book tribute, anything at all.  Anything except good, of course.

Normally, I’d stay up long enough to add to the day’s analysis, but unlike Tom Batiuk, I have a real job that requires that I fulfill certain goals.  Unlike Tom Batiuk, if I fail to fulfill these goals, I could get fired, which would not be beneficial to me, though I would assume it would cause Mr. Batiuk some amusement, and perhaps some satisfaction.

But until the time when he has control over my life, I will continue to deny that to him, and I’m off.  See you folks on the funway, which is already in progress!

Did I Forget to Mention, Forget to Mention Memphis?

Home of Elvis and the ancient (band) geeks…Holiday greetings snarkers! It’s TFHackett, guest authoring for guest author SoSF David O.

A Sun session that lasted til sunrise, followed up with a night of fights and gunplay, finally catches up with the gang. Dinkle’s relieved to find the BM’s are nestled all snug in the van, ready for the 700-mile jaunt back to Westview. Sadly, fatigue will soon overtake Harry Dinkle as well; he’ll nod off behind the wheel somewhere along I-40 North, and all will be killed in the crash and subsequent explosion of Carl’s leaky oxygen tank. Thank you, Santa!

Sunrise, Sunset?

SosfDavidO here, and after a long night recording, our gang packs it up and watches the… sunrise? Is that what that’s supposed to be in today’s strip?! They’re staring at it like it’s the mushroom cloud of an atom bomb. Don’t step off the sidewalk, because what should be a solid street below the curb looks more like a gateway to another dimension. Meanwhile, the 2001 Monolith looms sinisterly ahead.

What a weird daily.

We Five

SosfDavidO here, and Tombat didn’t try very hard with In today’s strip so I’m not overly motivated myself. This story arc feels like it’s been going on since the Clinton administration. There’s no mention of the wackiness of a blind music producer helping a deaf band director make an album but I assume the guy with the oxygen tube probably has no sense of smell to boot.