I, Me, Landmine

Les rather magnanimously inquires about Cory’s well-being. Funky replies “…I always used to worry about where he was headed.”  He’s referring, of course, to Cory’s heyday of petty larceny, school vandalism, cheating, and sassing his teachers. You know: the days when Cory was the coolest, most likeable character in the strip. Anymore–I mean, nowadays, with Cory tiptoeing through the Bouncing Bettys in war-torn Iraquistan, I guess Funky no longer needs to worry about his “totally focused” stepson.

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Panter Blitz

The ability to carry on a conversation while running is a reliable indicator of one’s physical fitness. Les, that magnificent bastard, demonstrates his unique gift of maintaining his douchebaggery at full gallop. Replace “Don’t take this the wrong way or anything…” with “I say, old chap…” and there you have it.

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Bench Depress

As yesterday’s pitch blackness turns into cheerful dawn, our joggers pass by what appears to be a WWI “doughboy” sleeping on a park bench. The sight inspires Les (and Tom Batiuk) to launch another zinger about how “the Wall Street crowd”  (aka the “greedy, immoral morons“) create so much misery for us decent folk.

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Stick It Where the Sun Don’t Shine

For the second time this month, we’re being “treated” to Les and Funky, running and complaining. Les, who typically quotes the likes of Hemingway and Melville, this week seems reduced to speaking in aphorisms, but still delivers them with that oh-so-punchable trademark smirk.

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Monday, October 20

Happy Monday, snarkers. Today’s strip was not available for preview…

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What, Moore, Could You Ask from Life?

“Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.”–George Eliot

A famous use of the phrase ["Indian Summer"] in American literature is the title of Van Wyck Brooks New England: Indian Summer (1940), chosen to suggest inconsistency, infertility, and depleted capabilities, a period of seemingly robust strength that is only an imitation of an earlier season of actual strength.Wikipedia

Hi folks! Not a heckuva lot to be said about today’s strip. Credit TB with getting around to portraying Les and Cayla actually doing couple stuff and enjoying one another’s company. Of course, Les has to ruin everything by expressing his desire to live another 5,490 years.

The strips for the rest of the week have not appeared online, so Monday’s post will be a placeholder. going live at midnight. Pray for a Les-less story arc!

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Don’t Hang In There, Dingus

Link To Today’s Strip

He who last leaf’s last laughs…laughs last? I forget how that old Westviewian folk saying goes. Anyhow, today we learn that a truly healthy marriage is based on a strong foundation of subtle threats and emotional extortion, with lots of crippling anxiety, some neglect, a degree of guilt and shame, extravagant make-up gifts and possibly a fear of heights thrown in for good measure. Cayla is thrilled about the opportunity to visit a Chinese publishing mill to get the very first benzene-soaked copy of Les’ new book where he apparently compares her to the last dying leaf of dying leaf season, which is just too touching for words (unless the word is “yuck”). She can read it on the flight home and kill a healthy six or seven minutes if she takes it slow and appreciates the (chortle) “artwork”. Hopefully Summer’s absence indicates that she put her hoodie back on (hopefully) and went back to KSU to continue her studies in inanity which is fine by me as she wore out her welcome as soon as she ambled out of that car of hers. The guy does a ten year time-skip to accommodate the Summer character and she never adds anything to anything. Nicely done there, Pulitzer (nominee) Boy.

You can be sure this isn’t the last we’ll be hearing of this “Last Leaf”, you can bet your Funky ass on that. Maybe it’ll all lead to a collection of Les & Cayla strips. He can call it “Ebony and Irony…The Other Shoe Meets Its Foot” and it could feature all the big Les & Cayla moments, like the time she stood there when he did the thing or the many other times she was featured in the background of the strip. And a bunch of other crap to fill it out to book-like length. Maybe even a launch-party at Montoni’s…(shudder). It could potentially generate tens of dollars of sales, some of which could be donated to charities devoted to helping anniversary-forgetters. Everyone wins.

Man, just a few weeks back we were making fun of Owen’s head injury. Seems like a lifetime ago. Les just swoops in and dominates all with his smug eyebrows and annoying facial expressions that are always more fully realized than any of the other characters. It’s all so frustrating and rage-inducing and once he settles in he never goes the f*ck away. The whole thing read like a pitiful attempt to compensate for all the times BatTom inexplicably left Cayla out of his little “stories” because he can’t really ever draw her hair consistently. Just pathetic.

And on that note, I am outta here, off to the Les Moore recovery suite with a gallon of rock & rye and some pills I found on the floor. Stay tuned for your next snarktacular guest host…the legendary TFH himself! See you all in the comment section and stay Funky!

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