Tag Archives: squiggly lines

Wigged Out

It’s a hell of a mishap when a flying pole with burning rags wrapped around both ends gets away from the majorette. It might cause the football field to catch fire, as Buck Bedlow can tell-not-show you. Which is a funnier circumstance than that of a girl forced to spend her teenage years hiding hideous, painful deformity to please her twirler mom. Oh, and the spelling you want in panel 2 would be “trouper.”

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Asbestos You Can Get

At least in this case we know that the red blur in the picture isn’t a ball of fire.  It’s Holly, in her classic Scapegoat majorette uni. I don’t know what’s worse: a “fireproof” garment that leaves your extremities exposed, or one that’s made out of material that can potentially cause cancer. Why not both?

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Girl on Fire

beckoningchasm
September 12, 2021 at 10:36 pm
Interesting that the only color we see on the photos is blotchy red. Are these photos of shooting victims?

J.J. O’Malley
September 13, 2021 at 10:37 pm
…[A]ll the photos appear to black and white with occasional splotches of red. Was Fun…er, Holly taking pictures at a screening of “Schindler’s List”?

billytheskink
September 13, 2021 at 10:24 am
Given all of the red smears on the photos…I’m guessing most of these “old” photos date back to Holly’s days as a red-and-white clad high school majorette…

December 3, 2013

Kudos to the above-quoted snarkers  whose beady, nitpicking eyes were drawn to the red splotches in nearly all of Holly’s photos. Those are all great (and funny) guesses, but apparently the pictures depict teenage Holly engulfed in flames.

The flaming baton gag dates back to the Act I days, and it is amusing to imagine it going horribly awry. It’s a little less amusing to imagine it causing disfiguring burns. And it becomes horrifying when we learn that her mother’s response was to schedule Holly’s yearbook photos accordingly. Also, disfiguring burns aside, Holly needn’t be so modest about her “skill” with a flaming baton. After all, she was still good enough, years later, to show a Xenon warrior just how it’s done.

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Maybe We Could Do the Twirl

Try saying “Twirling Tots” five times fast, I dare ya! Holly has settled into her ponderous pandemic picture project and is actually enjoying a little quality mother-daughter time. I don’t think I noticed until just this week that Melinda is drawn with the same weird, wide cartoony eyes that Holly had in her majorette days, and even when she was still a “Tot.”

Holly has been pictured in this outfit before. She’s wearing this uniform and boonie hat in her picture that hangs on  Montoni’s Wall of Fame. I started searching the archives to find the strip that shows this, but quickly became flustered, and I soon found myself sitting cross legged on the living room floor, being comforted by my mother. I’m going to need another pandemic to find it, har! har! har!

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Photobombed

I’m always forced to admit it when I find an FW character’s situation relatable to my own. My family photos aren’t collected in neat, tidy albums. They live in boxes and bags in the attic, and I need to, one of these days, take the time to sort and organize them. It’s a daunting task, to be sure, and that’s why I keep putting it off. But when I do find myself going through old photos, the memories they hold always bring a smile to my face. In today’s strip, Holly appears to be utterly distraught as she cowers on the floor amidst her family snapshots.

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Bully For You

Link To Monday’s Strip

SIGH…not this asshole again. What’d I ever do to BatYam to deserve this? Oh, yeah…that’s right! Sigh.

You’d think that after thirty years Les would have settled into a routine of sorts, but apparently the trauma he suffered back in 1986 still resonates every September, like clockwork. Because high school forever defines us, you see, and back in high school Les was an anxiety-ridden simpering pud, so there you go. Kind of makes you wonder why he decided to spend his entire teaching career at the scene of the crime, so to speak, but logic has never been BatYam’s strong suit (guffaw). At least Cayla looks properly annoyed in panel two instead of looking on stupidly like she usually does. Sigh. You NEVER follow up a major Les arc with a Les “slice o’ life” arc…NEVER. You go with a lite & breezy Funky or Crazy Harry arc in that situation, not more Les.

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Yes We Can

This is what happens when you break your contactor’s balls for taking a lunch break. The reno’s still not complete: there’s lumber and ladders everywhere and the electrical outlets are still exposed. But somehow, Sandwich Guy took the time to gather some colorful, empty tin cans–did he root through Funky’s recycle bin?–and hang them randomly from the ceiling with squiggly string. I mean, this has got to be a prank, right? Or did Funky hire the most cut-rate contractor he could find, one who actually thinks that these are the type of “cans” one would install in a kitchen ceiling?

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Nobody is Fine in Westview

Haha, wives sure are heartless, am I right? I really, really, do not understand what the point of this story was. People in the real world don’t usually tell stories that highlight what clumsy buffoons they are. Or that their wives don’t care if they’re injured (and are incapable of telling if the wall in a room they’re in is damaged and have to ask someone else). The only way this would make anything close to sense is if Funky really was dying for a beer when he was on the treadmill, and this whole story is actually about him relapsing.

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Eye am about out of eye puns

And eye (ugh) *s-eye* (no no no) *sigh* (that’s better) sorry… I am about out of patience with this anti-majestic glacier of a story line. Every single thing in today’s strip happened in yesterday’s strip as well. I’m not sure even Garfield or Family Circus recycle at this level… I don’t know if this will help, but I have cut the 62 words in these last two strips down to 20 in an attempt to make this never-ending story stronger and more concise.

Dr. Droopy: Cataract surgery is pretty common nowadays.  It is quite safe and not especially complicated.
Funky: I'm worried! WORRIED, I TELLS YA!

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Putting the “die” in dilate

Let us all sincerely hope that today’s strip is the end of “Funky terrorizes the optometrist’s office with his shmuckery.” Oh please please please! I ran out of things to say about it on Tuesday and since then I’ve been filling space with a Droopy photoshop done in Microsoft Paint, obscure 90s punk rock references, and my own experiences at the ophthalmologist. Today, I very nearly wrote 3-4 sentences in this post about what my cat was doing right now, but I’ve taken up too much of you all’s valuable time already. Well, at least I finally thought of something to say about this strip…

Speaking of drops, I’m thinking this country’s newspapers should do just that to a couple of comic strips.

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