September 23rd, 2007

Community - Wah Wah Wah!

Sunday, September 23rd

First of all, I have to say that I can't believe how time flies; it seems like only yesterday that I was writing my first entry on Monday and now my time as come to an end. This might sound crazy, but I'd like to do this again in the near future.

Random thoughts about today's strip:

1) Why must every character in this strip scratch themselves when they first get out of bed?

2) John looks a tad like Melville Kelpfroth in the fourth panel. Speaking of Mr. Kelpfroth, are we to assume that he and his wife died from their burns since we haven't heard about them in months?

3) EW! I see the side view of John's nipple in panel 9. :barfs:

4) Any bets that this will be up on someone's fridge? I might, as it would be a great appetite suppressant.

5) Is it me, or are panels seven and ten the exact same drawing?

6) As much as I hate John's train outfit, I prefer that to his shirtless body and boxer shorts.

ETA: If the two tags don't go with this strip, let me know and I'll remove them.


Many thanks to mst3k4evr, and a hearty welcome to ellcee! Who, incidentally, may be caught up with Dancing in Socks Guy, so if she doesn't open the new thread right on time, comment here.

Also, for what remains of Funky BadNewsBean before the jump, all guest snarkers, please refrain from commenting on Lisa in the main entry. Batiuk is being enough of a bringdown for many people; let's not add to it. Commenting on it in the replies is okay; just not on the main page where it can't be avoided.
Mama's Sweet Boy
  • ellcee

Monday, September 24 2007

Thanks to mst3k4evr for a fantabulous job of polishing what ended up being a week's worth of turds! Now, onto today's strip:

Panel 1

Jim Richards stood in the doorway of his living room, his jaw clenched, one hand -- the one with the wildly deformed pinky finger -- reflexively clutching a book. A book he intended to read to his grandson, Michael, whether he liked it or not. Look at that little bastard, sitting there, clutching his knees to his chest like the pussified little mama's boy he was. Jim, a brawny ex-military man prided himself on his masculinity, and it killed him to know his grandson -- his only grandson -- would most assuredly not be following in his footsteps, not with the pansy upbringing Jim's flaky daughter and spineless son-in-law were giving the boy. But in the meanwhile, Jim intended to do whatever he could to counteract this. Starting with an abridged addition of The Art of War by Sun Tzu.

Arranging his craggy features into a more child-friendly mask, he warily approached Michael. "Hi there, Mike," he said in the friendliest voice he could muster. "What do you say we read a book?"

Panel 2

Michael barely stirred from his lumpish pose, merely turning his head briefly to give his grandfather that blank look which so irritated Jim.

"You can watch that any day!" Jim said, trying to keep his voice pleasant. "How often do you and I read a story?"

Michael shrugged and turned back to the television.

"Disobey me, will you?" Jim thought. His left hand, with it's shifting deformed finger went to his belt ...

Panel 3

... two hours and a lot of blood later, Jim sat in his easy chair.

"Well, I see Grampa hasn't lost his touch!"

Jim looked up to see his magnificently uncomprehending wife Marian standing there, ubiquitous cup of coffee perched precariously on her own deformed claw.

Panel 4

"Because Grampa threatened to blow up the TV," Jim thought, the severed heads of his grandson and grandaughter firmly tucked under each arm.