It looks like that visit from a college coach didn’t lead to a job offer for Bull. And that’s too bad. Not for Bull, but for the hapless Scapegoats, who can look forward to another season of futility, playing for a dimwitted, incompetent coach who badmouths rather than encourages them.
Tag: sports
Saturdrag
Saturday’s strip was not available for preview, but let’s face facts: we can say without question that it’s boring beyond description. For that reason, I’ve invited someone else, boring beyond description, to write today’s post so I can start my drinking early.
Hello, everyone on the internet, I’m Les Moore. I teach Language Arts at Westview High School…and I’m a bit of a writer! I’m sure that’s why your friend Beach Cheese* asked me to write for you today…that, plus he said I was “just as boring” as the strip, by which he meant that, like a drill, I am able to penetrate many layers to get to a deeper meaning!
*(I think the name was Beach Cheese. Is that right? Does anyone know a Beach Cheese? Well, you’re better with me, because I’m sure whatever he might have written would have been quite cheesy. Ha ha ha ha ha, ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha ha ha, oh my. Ha ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha, ha ha ha, I do have a gift, don’t I.)
Well, let’s start. Okay, we have Bull and this other man, who is quite handsome, speaking to each other, and one of them made a joke! Ha ha, that is a pleasantly diverting moment from the ongoing despair that envelopes us in a continuous haze of fear, regret and brown-tinged memories of desperation.
It reminds me of a funny story. You see, our old principal, Fred Fairgood, had a stroke nearly two years ago. When Funky told me about it, I smirked and said, “Well, we’re going to have to write Fred’s name in a serif font now,” and I then explained that a serif font is one that has decorative strokes. Well, clearly Funky had never heard such a funny joke, because he just frowned at me for a long time trying to figure it out, even after I explained it to him. Some people just don’t “get” the best humor!
Another funny story is about Wally. See, he was a soldier somewhere outside Westview, and a few years ago, I saw him on the street and I said “Hey!” and I made my hands into gun-shapes and said, “Pew! Pew!” Well, he covered his head with his hands and dropped to the ground, because I think the secret code of military toughness means they’re not supposed to laugh at funny jokes–like those people who guard the Queen–and he was hiding his laughs so he wouldn’t get in trouble. But don’t worry! If I saw his sergeant, I would have said he laughed, but he laughed in a tough manner, so don’t put him in Army Jail too much! He got a dog a year or so later, so obviously I was right.
Well, I’ve given you two funny stories, which is probably more than you get in a month, so I’ll just leave it at that! I’ll be sure to tell that Beach Cheese person that you enjoyed them, so he’ll get me to do this again. I have to get back to my wife, Lisa, who died of cancer, and that other woman who cleans and makes food. What is her name again? I should really know that. I should get her a Christmas card and thank her this year. Maybe, if I have time–lots of stuff to do for other people, like Lisa.
Oh, but I do want to leave you with this fun activity you might want to try: collecting old comic books. You’ll be surprised at how it makes you feel!
In closing, let me just quote Billy from Predator: “We’re all gonna die.” So long for now!
…Durn Near KILLED ‘EM!
Again, it sure seems to me that someone who has come to “check out” Bull would be listening to Bull talk about his, um, er *cough* “successes” rather than go on and on and on and on about some play. It makes me think that this DUI guy stepped on a few too many toes, so they sent him to Westview to see what his future could look like if he doesn’t start shaping up.
Look at Dolt’s expression in panel two, and contrast it with his expression in panel two of Tuesday’s strip. The sunny helpful face has been replaced by one creased with worry. The penny is beginning to drop. You know, those guys who said, “Good luck, and don’t come back!” weren’t really smiling.
Maybe I can grab one of these tackling dummies and bring it back to DUI, and say, Guys, meet Bull Bushka! and everyone will laugh and I’ll be okay. He glances between the two. The tackling dummy certainly is smarter and has a better personality…
I have to say, for a strip that specializes in being unbelievably boring, Tom Batiuk has really outdone himself this week…and we’re not over yet, not for the week and I’m sure not for the arc. After all, nothing resembling a “point” has reared its ugly head. All of which I’m sure will lead to Bull being tempted to go to the big city, but deciding to stay in Westview because of a poorly-worded platitude he smirks out to someone. Les, probably.
Oh…I forgot today’s word-play. How could I have forgotten that? It’s…certainly there, isn’t it. It reminds me of a dumb joke whose punchline makes up today’s title. Other than that, it’s another Crankshaft reject.
PUNishment Park
According to panel two, it sure looks like Dolt McMoron has crapped his pants magnificently. I suspect he is either reacting badly to the horror he is witnessing on the field (what Bull calls “athletics”) or he’s making a sincere attempt to blend in on his Westview visit. I don’t know why he’s going on and on about elementary coaching…I thought he was the one interested in Bull’s abilities, but I guess no one in this strip really knows how to yield the floor once they get on a roll.
What I’m more concerned about is the pun used here. I’m not a user of puns by nature, but isn’t this cheating? I looked at that pun for a while and it didn’t click, because I was going, “Payton Mann? Payton Manners?” before I remembered that his actual name was Payton Manning.
So, punsters…can you do that? Base a pun on only half a name? I mean, it seems to me that it would be okay if Les was talking about German literature and he said, “There are a lot of Thomas Mannerisms,” or, conversely, if Dopey Pete said 80’s TV had a lot of “Michael Mannerisms.” Both of those name-puns look “okay” to me, as puns, because both of those use the full names. Terrible as they are, they sound “legit” (as much as any pun can).
But based on today’s terrible, terrible offering, it sure sounds like if I wanted to make a joke about sports on the Moon, and I said the number one event was “Neil Armwrestling,” that that’s just fine (as a pun, remember). Or say there’s a drawing of Funky tossing spices onto a pizza and saying “I call this my Barack Oregano.” Both of those sound like cheating to me.
So, I really feel there should be a penalty flag here. Of course, stepping back a bit from the pun edge, the content of this strip is so nothing that a penalty seems almost cruel, like getting a speeding ticket for going 31 in a 30 mile zone. (Or, perhaps better, going 29 in a 30 mile zone.)
In other words, another desperate attempt by yours truly to find something to say about this strip, four days into this dull arc, falls flat. Time to hand it over to the pros. Have at it, snarkers!
Like Grandfather, Like Grandson
Well, one mystery has been solved. Dolt McMoron’s clearly a relative of Crankshaft. A grandson, no doubt, and he’s inherited his granddad’s inability to use language. I wonder if he’ll knock over some mailboxes in his SUV when he leaves? Or kill people? That could be entertaining so the outlook is not sunny for the Westview nine this day.
As for the actual content of this strip, for the most part I look at this and when I look in the mirror I see Bull’s expression in panel two papered over my own, like some kind of horrible vampire-mask. That kind of dull-witted non-interest depicted there, and felt here, sure makes it hard to wake up. I mean, write. But, credit where it’s due, that knob in panel two is really well drawn. Honestly–it’s realistic enough to be recognizable, but also nicely abstract. I think today’s offering would have been way better if it was just drawing after drawing of that blackboard knob…because the rest of it….zzz
…zzzzzzzz *SNAH!!* I”M AWAKE!
Son of Stuck Funky 