Tag: sweat beads

The Longest Forty-Something Years In The History Of Years

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Gotta hand it to Batiuk today. I would have thought that this “fatwad goes to the gym” arc would have played itself out after a panel or two but here it is, Thursday, and it’s still as fresh and hilarious as it was on Monday. Granted, the bar was set rather low……

Oh, hold on a second. At first glance I thought that was Mephistopheles himself, about to summon Funky on down to eternal damnation and all. But nope, it’s just a cynically smirking Fitness Girl wildly arching her eyebrows, presumably in bemused disgust at Funky’s pathetic punchline. I hear that, FG. But better be careful making those faces, if she gets stuck like that she’ll be banished from everywhere BUT Westview and no one wants that.

No Grit All Quit

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The only sadist around here is TheAuthor. He obviously enjoys inflicting punishment on Funky and he was in his glory when he drew this one. Panel two is especially gruesome. I never thought any particular Funky drawing could be any more unflattering than any other one, but I stand corrected. That drawing should come with a parental warning. Look at the size of that one sweat bead too, wow.

It’s starting to become pretty clear why Funky’s various “get in shape” schemes always fail. One, he doesn’t try and quits as soon as it gets difficult and two, he never shuts the f*ck up while he’s supposed to be exercising. Complaints, gloating about “playing tennis”, wry remarks…no wonder he’s always gasping for breath. Keeping his big fat trap shut, that’s his problem.

I like the weird shading on Funky’s disgusting sweaty face though. Do you think they added that in after he drew it or is that just how that particular kind of shading shows up in newsprint form?

The Treadmill To Nowhere

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Obesity, rapid aging, coronary issues, weird skinny legs and crippling malasie…these are “nagging little injuries”, Funky Winkerbean style. That sounds about right. And sorry Fitness Girl, but your “meal ticket” is in fact that pizza place down the road that’s stuffing the local kids full of stale leftover glop before they even get to school in the morning. That’s what the local mortician calls Montoni’s too, by the way.

The joke doesn’t even make sense. Fitness Girl isn’t a doctor or a physical therapist, so how would a rash of tennis-related injuries possibly benefit her? And what the hell is Funky babbling about? Tennis? Oh, that one time many years ago when he stood around a tennis court with Les and complained about something? Come on, be serious.

#worstonearmedcharacterever

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Today BatBrain tries to go “topical” by referencing that Tweety thing that’s all the rage with those goddamned worthless kids today, with their chullos and cell phones and all. I would imagine that the bulk of her student’s tweets would consist of some variation on “wow Ms Howard is a real bitch” and/or “why do I still take band, it sucks”. Anyhow, this entire week has been a dumping ground for all those band-related gags that have been clanging around in that pointy little head of his for god only knows how long, so it was kind of inevitable that his love of marching bands and hatred of technology would clash, I guess. I assume the strip where Becky proposes a “Pizza In 1930’s Comic Book Lore” band routine is coming tomorrow.

Panel three: Summer called, she’d like her gritty face back before basketball season, please. Seriously though, Becky, take the whole beleaguered band director routine down a few pegs, OK? It’s getting seriously grating now and we’ve all had just about enough. Becky always gets overlooked when you think about really annoying FW characters but when she’s around she’s a contender for sure.

Sweat Chullo O’ Mine

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Hey look, it’s Cody and Owen, who’ve been attending WHS for at least five or six years already, sweating their way through another horrible and joyless summer band camp just like we’re suffering through another horrible and joyless summer band camp arc! Mind blown. Much as with Becky, one has to wonder why they keep voluntarily participating in an activity that apparently gives them no enjoyment whatsoever. Again, kind of like us! Whoa. The fabled Westviewian masochism must be contagious.

One also has to wonder why Owen would elect to wear a wool cap with ear flaps in the middle of August, or why Cody doesn’t remember Becky losing her shit last year, or the year before that, or the year before that, or the year before that and so on. So in short, it doesn’t appear that either of these two dimwits will be graduating anytime soon. On the plus side, though, they’ll be able to legally buy their own alcohol soon, which should make the ride home from the prom a little more interesting provided that FW remains “true to form”. Owen really does have that “future FW fatality” look about him, doesn’t he? And Cody….yeah.

I have to believe that even the most easily amused band directors would think twice before clipping this strip and taping it to the band room door. Especially the ones battling any sort of mental illness which, based on the knowledge of band directors I’ve gleaned from reading FW, means all of them because teaching band is the most difficult and thankless job there is and everyone who does it is insane. Right?