Son of Stuck Funky – Page 342 – Son of Stuck Funky

Chemo-Sabe

Look, I made a pun! Based on “kemosabe” and “chemotherapy”! Do I get an award yet?! I should go out and stand by the mailbox!

Of course, I have the feeling that Batiuk has used that exact same pun, previously on this long hard slog, so I’m a bit deflated by that.

Speaking of deflated, how completely baffling is it that Lisa is brought up in today’s strip. It makes it look as if everyone in the entire world was affected by her passing, and everyone must pause and mourn when something brings her to mind. “Hey, look at this painting, the Mona Lisa!” (sigh) “I guess I should sign the lease, uh?” (moan) “Okay, I found one, where’s the other shoe?” (sob).

Because otherwise it just seems like more whoring out of Tom Batiuk’s Greatest Hit, in the hopes that someone, somewhere–anywhere–might say, “Hey, I’ve got an award I’ve got to give out–and it looks like I’ve found someone deserving!”

Batiuk, let her rest. You fumbled it, and the play’s been called.

Dine ‘n’ Slapdash

Link to today’s strip.

Many thanks to Comic Book Harriet for her recent hosting of the Ongoing Mess. As usual, her posts were more interesting than the strip before us.

As for the strip before us, a cursory glance at today’s strip left me really puzzled. I thought, How in the heck could Crazy Harry be close to Butter Brinkel, someone who had probably died before he was born? Is this like his Tarzan fixation, where his obsession with the character led to said character coloring his world? Just because he owns all the DVDs? And how could he afford to fly out to Los Angeles?

A more careful reading then revealed that this was Cliff Anger, and not Crazy Harry. Frankly, this strip is too worthless to inspire careful readings, so I was a bit put off.

Then there’s the word “kemosabe.” I’m of the generation who associates the term with the Lone Ranger and Tonto, being Tonto’s term for the Ranger. A quick search says that it means something like “faithful companion,” which is how I always took it. The fact that it’s an odd word, not likely to used in common parlance, leads me to believe we’re going to get some kind of awful wordplay down the road. Oh…joy.

(Unless Batiuk is going to pick up on the Urban Legend that “kemosabe” means “horse’s ass,” but I don’t see how he can get Les to Los Angeles in time….)

Food Poisoning

Link to today’s strip

As usual, the Sunday strip wasn’t available for preview. Normally I would try to tough it out till midnight, just to make sure whatever horrors Sunday brings are properly commented on. However, the strain of trying to find amusement in drying paint has finally broken me, and I’ve come down with the Westview flu. Not as deadly as the Spanish flu, maybe, but virulent in it’s ability to sap me of energy, leaving me with a headache, and slightly nauseous. So pretty much what you would expect after spending two weeks with Les Moore.

Here’s hoping that it’s not able to be transmitted through the interwebs, because Beckoning Chasm is taking over for me tomorrow, and I’d hate to think I had contaminated the controls.

Goodnight, and Good Luck.

Ducking the Call.

Link to today’s strip

Les finally stopped grilling hot dogs. I’m guessing so his depressed resigned expression could be seen by all the people who refused to take over the responsibility Les was attempting to relinquish. And they’re just smirking at him. They probably refused because they hate him, not because they don’t want to go to DC with a bunch of high schoolers.

Guys, I’m starting to worry about Cayla. She hasn’t smiled once in two weeks of being in the strips. Either she’s in the midst of a major depression, or she’s become the audience avatar: bored, depressed, and tired.

I’m depressed because the sky in the strip has been colored oppressively yellow all week, and I don’t know why.

Drain Damage.

Link to today’s strip

Now I am really really disappointed we didn’t get to see any of this water balloon competition. Because it sounds like it was a no-holds-barred water war waged both inside and outside the school. Can you imagine the water damage? Even if they were barred from classrooms and computer labs, all those corkboards and vaguely inspirational posters on the walls are toast. And those tile floors would have gotten dangerously slippery, I imagine everyone who participated has bruised tailbones and skinned knees.

But I’m guessing there isn’t anything in the student handbook preventing the teachers from running through the halls with firehoses, water pistols, and, balloons. Nate’s hands were tied.

Why is Les still grilling hotdogs? We see food in front of these people, so they’ve mostly all gotten all they were going to eat already. Unless there’s going to be a hotdog eating contest later. Billytheskink was joking at the beginning of the week about Dinkle being able to eat a banana sideways. Now I’m picturing him shoving hotdog after hotdog into his mouth sideways like a machine, lips closing over his entire fist down to the wrist every time and sucking the digits clean.

But more likely Les just doesn’t want to listen to anyone elses’ speechifying.