The Comics Curmudgeon

Main Menu

Social Media

Archive: Funky Winkerbean

Comments are closed

At least he’s not peeing on it, as near as we can tell

Post Content

Gil Thorp, 1/15/18

It’s time for a new storyline in Gil Thorp, the strip about high school sports that isn’t afraid to get topical, the strip that was doing storylines about DREAMers way back in 2008, the strip that has the guts to say that head injuries are bad but football is great. Looks like this spring we’re going to be spending time with a couple refugees from Hurricane Maria, one of whom has a real bad attitude about her homeland’s devastation, unlike her brother who’s just a real chill guy. Will all their problems be solved with high school sports? Probably!

Funky Winkerbean, 1/15/18

God, imagine a future dystopia where humanity has ceded its autonomy to a soulless, implacable “machine” — a machine that, for instance, can tell when you’re using the photocopier at work to xerox copies of your new terrible graphic novel about your dead wife so you can personally hand them to your friends who keep saying “the attachment didn’t come through on that email you sent.” Well, you don’t have to imagine it, because it’s here. Welcome to hell, where death by cancer is a blessed relief.

Family Circus, 1/15/18

I know Billy is supposed to be making snow angels in the background, but I’d really like to believe he’s just flailing around out there, rubbing his gross little body all over the lawn, to claim the snow. “It’s my snow, asshole!” he gleefully yells at Jeffy. “You can’t have it!”

Comments are closed

Death-haunted quickies

Post Content

The Lockhorns, 1/11/18

I’m assuming Loretta is leaning on the life here for effect, because Leroy is dead. It’s unclear if Loretta murdered him or if he just passed away peacefully in his chair, but clearly she’s getting as much joy as she can from parading her friends through to gawk at his slovenly corpse before finally calling the coroner to come collect him.

Family Circus, 1/11/18

There’s nothing I enjoy more than seeing a Keane Kid sweating desperately in the certain knowledge that their God has abandoned them.

Funky Winkerbean, 1/11/18

So poor addled Bull and his pal are out to reminisce on the football field and have brought a snow … shovel? Wait, that’s not a shovel for snow. That’s a spade, for dirt. They’re planning on digging a damn GRAVE for SOMEBODY

Comments are closed

Can Bull only gesture silently now? Pretty sure that’s not how dementia works

Post Content

Mary Worth, 1/9/18

I’m really excited to watch Wilbur’s emotional journey to healing over the coming … weeks? Months? Today, for instance, we can tell he’s moving forward a bit because rather than just shoving that muffin down his gullet to fill the hole inside him where love used to be, he’s taking a moment to enjoy its bouquet, as he would with a fine wine. Meanwhile, Dawn, wide-eyed and still rolling on Molly after another night of clubbing, is about to blow through the kitchen and disrupt Wilbur’s philosophical mindset with some manic, MDMA-addled chatter.

Funky Winkerbean, 1/9/18

“Yes, ancillary character who I’m pretty sure was just introduced into this narrative specifically for the super-depressing ‘Bull vanishes into dementia‘ arc! Only you can still bring joy to this household. He certainly never smiles around me, his own wife! Ha ha, my life isn’t a hell, at all!”

Six Chix, 1/9/18

Here is a comic where dogs discuss the fact that they can’t fuck. Enjoy!