The sight of a relaxed, grinning Funky instantly piques Holly’s curiosity. Funky’s got reason to smile: he’s managed to avoid having to deal with his cranky mother-in-law and with his formerly senile father. Hopefully the start of a new calendar year means that Mort can once again get “those little purple pills.” Said arrangements have been made “off camera.” so we don’t know what Elvis–uh, Melinda thinks about the whole thing. Neither do we know if, since he’s not technically Melinda’s next of kin, he’s even authorized to not only consign Melinda to Bedside Manor but also have her bunk with his old man. Although in a nursing home where the receptionist is allowed to discuss sensitive information with family, I guess anything goes!
Author Archives: TFHackett
What’s my opinion, Bernie? How about this: next time the school levy fails to pass, my opinion is that the school could save some budget by doing away with “The Bleat.” I’d also recommend giving the boot to clueless, ineffectual teachers like Mr. Moore and Mrs. Bushka, but sadly, they’re tenured in. “Tenure” must also explain why past-their-prime, mirthless franchises such as Funky Winkerbean (and Crankshaft) continue to occupy the ever shrinking amount of real estate allotted to newspaper comics.
It’s been my honor to share the FW misery with you these past couple weeks. Though I am loathe to give away spoilers, TB has already teased in his blog about next week’s “prestige” arc, ripped from last year’s headlines, and comicbookharriet will break it all down for you starting tomorrow.
February 27, 2019 at 6:26 am
So we’re to believe that this is the first time in their marriage that Cayla has gone clothes shopping with Les?
Maybe it’s not that implausible if, as this 2011 strip attests, that a sport coat will last Les “for ages”:
…which is about how long this shopping arc seemed to go on. Now the two are walking out to the car and at this point Les is straight up trolling Cayla. In panel 3, the tail of the speech bubble is painstakingly drawn to make it clear that the SHRIEEEEEEK is coming from the passenger side of the car, thus dashing my hopes that it’s the cries of Les as a furious Cayla stabs him in the groin.
March 1, 2019 at 12:01 am
Four words: Les Moore must die.
You win this round, Les Moore. You came, you saw, you walked out of the store with the very first thing you tried on. And you happily paid full price. Now, just for good measure, toss out one of your endless supply of quotable quotations. There’s that look of disgust again from Cayla, who clearly has at last had enough of your bullshit. Not to worry: your true soulmate, Linda Bushka, will be back on the market soon!
Les continues to vex his spouse with his silly, ignorant “man” way of shopping for clothes. If that 15% discount applies to everything he charges on the card going forward, it might make sense to apply. But if it’s only on his current purchase, well, does he really need another charge account? Cayla is having none of it, and Les’ latest gaffe causes her to plotz right into a conveniently placed chair.
(Programming note: the first of the month means that Friday’s comic won’t be available until midnight eastern time Thursday, so the customary placeholder post will be in place.)
Though they’ve been married now for six and a half years (!), we haven’t seen Cayla doing things with Les so much as she does things for him. We know that Les finds time to teach a class or two in between book signings, but Cayla’s employed by the Westview Schools too, or at least she was when we met her. Or did she, as Linda is preparing to do, retire in order to care for her helpless, hapless husband? If her dead-eyed look of contempt directed at Les is any indication, maybe she’s finally getting fed up with the jerk.
“No…Wait! It’s only Tuesday! We have to drag this out for an entire week!” I’m wondering if Mr. “Write What You Know” Batiuk was inspired to write this arc while strolling about the Medwick Marketplace Marshalls with Mrs. Batiuk. Like his avatar, TB spends an inexplicable, inordinate amount of time traveling about to hawk and sign his books. He blogs about it too, with pictures, and Dear Author himself seems to favor a more casual, jacket-free look.