Thanksgiving 2010: Becky is so exhausted from selling band turkeys that she’s unable to stay awake for Thanksgiving dinner with her family (no wonder she stuck Owen with the job this year).
New Year’s, 2011: While two living, breathing women compete for his affections, Les rings in the New Year pining for his long-dead wife.
Labor Day 2011: At Cayla’s family picnic, Les fouls a softball off his face.
New Year’s, 2012: Coach Bull is too busy fretting over the Lady Scapegoats’ winless streak to enjoy a party with friends.
Mother’s Day 2012: Summer carefully selects just the right card to leave on her mother’s grave.
Father’s Day 2012: Funky “honors” his father by dragging him from the rest home for an awkward meal at the food court in the bustling mall.
Readers have surmised by now that, in a Funkiverse where people avoid expressing joy lest they tempt cruel fate, the holidays are occasions to ratchet up, rather than leave aside, despair. Having decided that it’s too taxing to take Dad out of the home for the holidays, Funky contents himself with paying the old man a visit “now and then”. Pop may not recognize his only son, but you can’t blame him for thinking that this “nice man” must live in the nursing home too: he certainly looks to be of age.
Son of Stuck Funky 
Is Funky going to try and sell the old man a band turkey? Cause that would be hi-larious.
Flunky will spend a week wracking his brain trying to think of a creative name for his old dad. He’ll settle on “Snowball.”
Well, I have to admit I’m having the same kind of Thanksgiving this year. Not that that makes this strip funny, or poignant, or good in any sense.
becky thanksgiving strip recycled to todays crankshit,way to earn your money batty
Happy Thanksgiving to all. After all that’s happened recently, I’m mainly thankful for the same things you fine folks are: the Owen turkey thing is done, that Funky’s dad isn’t featured more in the strip, that Funky isn’t featured more in the strip, and of course, Les’ absence this week so far. And the ever-innovative use of brick work today, just stunning. It’s really about the little things, you know?
Right after I posted, I did a very foolish and regrettable thing. I clicked on “New Year’s 2011”. What a horrifying retrospective; nicely done, TFH!
Batuik can’t do serious subjects. He’s not witty enough to do dark humor, and he’s not skilled enough to speak to readers going through the same things. Instead, he makes people super mad.
I’m pretty sure Batuik’s managed to anger everyone with his handling of at least one serious subject. He’ll find your weak point and play it for mopey drama.
“Do you remember who I am?” Lordy, does that remind me of For Better or For Worse’s Michael Patterson saying, right in front of his grandfather, “Is he crazy or something?” I have to ask: Has anyone ever seen Tom Batiuk ™ and Lynn Johnston ™ in the same place together? I’m not sayin’; I’m just sayin’.
C’mon Mr. Winkerbean, you know there are no nice people in Westview.
Maudlin: Extravagantly or excessively sentimental; mawkish, self-pitying; self-pityingly or tearfully sentimental, often through drunkenness:
“Tom Batiuk aims for deep and meaningful, but he is only capable of producing shallow, maudlin stories that irritate the reader.”
Senility might be a key to living happily in Westview. Ignorance to the soul crushing despair that abounds in this city truly is bliss.
Hey, wait. Alzheimer’s humor is slap nuts funny! Maybe later, Grampaw Wankerbean will crap his pants or make racially hateful comments to a member of the hospital staff. Oh, ha ha! Smirks all around! If TomButt can have Les pretend to make out with his long-expired wife, ANYTHING’S fair game.
So where we goin’ for Thanksgiving? Mall food court sounds good. We can be back to this storage locker of an old age home by 1:00. Just strap Pappy into the back seat of ol’ Snowball and away we go! And that’ll satisfy Flunky’s obligation until Christmas, when by golly, we’ll do it all again!
Funky’s dad’s head looks like a mountain goat’s penis in panel 2. It’s so misshapen, and disgustingly so. The bad blending job doesn’t help, either.
You’re welcome.
Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Hope everyone’s having a great Turkey day! Friday’s post will be up tonight at 9PM eastern time, enjoy! 🙂
Papa Winkerbean: “So, when we go to eat out today, can you just NOT order me something larger than I can handle?”
Funky: “I’m not making any promises.”
Papa: “But I don’t have much of an appetite these days! You’re the one with the money and the one who orders stuff! Just order something small!”
Funky: “You’re so senile, you won’t even remember this conversation.” *smug smirk*
Papa: *weeps*
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Happy Thanksgiving!
I really, really hope Papa Winkerbean really does recognize Funky, and is doing this on purpose to get revenge for being dumped into a home and forgotten except for token visits on relevant holidays. It would serve him right.
Happy Thanksgiving, to all you snarkers! This year I’m thankful that you make the most miserable, self-important strip in comics genuinely funny.
I wrote an open letter to TB in my blog. I hope you read it.
“Do you know who I am?
“Well, judging by the fact that you appear to be the same friggin’ age as me….are you my brother??? my cousin???…my gay lover????….am I getting warm???
I used to read this in the newspaper, but quit, even before I discovered comics online. In a deliberate act of will, I refused to waste the few seconds it took to read it, nested there as it somehow inevitably was in the pages of the local paper, for it had gone beyond merely offensive (Act II) to boring (Act III).
I found SoSF via Comics Kingdom commentary. It has been very therapeutic for me to read the snark on this site, and especially to read the archives, so that I can relive what I missed, but re-cast now as an entertainment that is like soothing balm to me.
This comic strip has offended me as a widow, breast-cancer survivor, medical professional, second wife, child of a parent who died of Alzheimer’s, musician and former band geek, animal-lover, care-giver to a disabled spouse, it goes on, and I am only one average person.
Didn’t mention it in my earlier message, but upon reflection, asking someone who has Alzheimer’s if they know who you are is one of the cruelest, most dickish things you can do to them. Even if they don’t know who you are, they know their confusion and bewilderment is not normal and that you’re just making them feel worse about it. Why doesn’t Funky just walk up to him, start knocking on his skull and as him “Hey Chunkhead, is your brain all there today?”
After this, he’s going to ask a mentally disabled person if they’re stupid. And then he’s going to ask a Huntington’s patient if he’s gonna be a god damn spaz today.
Then he’ll ask Becky to give him a hand with something. Bazinga.