On a new bit called "Funchspiracies," Ron Funches gleefully reveals his theory about Apple manipulating operating systems on their older model iPhones, and it's such a viable, sound conspiracy, my iPhone 6s is glitching as I type this sentence.
Giggle Fit is somehow Funches' first hour-long special, even though he's been one of our planet's funniest public people for close to a decade. He's a much different man now than the one we first got to know, and he nonchalantly updates us over the course of this enjoyably hilarious show.
Funches remains a pop culture-obsessed, pot-loving dude with a melodious speaking voice and musical way with language. He can, should he choose to, put a joke across on performative attitude and charisma alone. Luckily he's also a tremendous writer and storyteller who can, even briefly, turn his own interests in women in winter coats, motivational exercises, wrestling (the suddenly omnipresent feature king, Ric Flair, is featured here in a skit), and a number of reality TV shows, into ours.
On a more serious note (that he doesn't dwell on with much earnestness), Funches describes losing 140 pounds over two years and his experiences raising a son with autism. He tends to undercut the nobler aspects of both for the sake of comedy because he's a very funny comedian and this isn't the context to take such serious things seriously. But there is, in fact, pathos and empathy swimming around Funches' artful rendering of his dynamic life and perspective on living it, which makes Giggle Fit a deeply rewarding and funny special.
(Comedy Central)Giggle Fit is somehow Funches' first hour-long special, even though he's been one of our planet's funniest public people for close to a decade. He's a much different man now than the one we first got to know, and he nonchalantly updates us over the course of this enjoyably hilarious show.
Funches remains a pop culture-obsessed, pot-loving dude with a melodious speaking voice and musical way with language. He can, should he choose to, put a joke across on performative attitude and charisma alone. Luckily he's also a tremendous writer and storyteller who can, even briefly, turn his own interests in women in winter coats, motivational exercises, wrestling (the suddenly omnipresent feature king, Ric Flair, is featured here in a skit), and a number of reality TV shows, into ours.
On a more serious note (that he doesn't dwell on with much earnestness), Funches describes losing 140 pounds over two years and his experiences raising a son with autism. He tends to undercut the nobler aspects of both for the sake of comedy because he's a very funny comedian and this isn't the context to take such serious things seriously. But there is, in fact, pathos and empathy swimming around Funches' artful rendering of his dynamic life and perspective on living it, which makes Giggle Fit a deeply rewarding and funny special.
