Uh yes Funky, this was adequately covered in yesterday’s strip, but THANKS for re-establishing that for us. We wouldn’t want to forget a key plot point like that. So not only do they not know that Mort & company traveled to Memphis, they don’t even know that the despised Dinkle was the mastermind behind it all. I would imagine that Funky would be more amazed about his Alzheimer’s-afflicted dad’s incredible mastery of the trombone (and flawless mug-handling skills) than by hearing about that fool Dinkle, but who the hell knows. Funky does look a lot less fat today, I have to admit, which could be a very good or very, very, very bad thing in the Funkyverse. I’m just chalking it up to shitty artwork for now until the results of the biopsy come back.
O Little Town Of Memphis
Merry Christmas to our SoSF guest hosts and commenters! Without YOU it’s all just masturbation! Have a great holiday!!
Man, Funky sure is aging (even more) poorly…the New Guy added a solid ten to fifteen years to his already-decrepit character. Soon he’ll just be a skeleton…a big fat skeleton. Obviously it’s seems HIGHLY unlikely that his father went all the way to Memphis to record a CD without him knowing about it but by the standards of the Funkyverse it’s sort of believable. I mean just last week some guy bought “Lisa’s Trilogy” as a Xmas gift for his dead wife, so this seems rather innocuous in comparison.
“Greetings From Memphis”…wow what a shitty title, they only recorded in Memphis, they don’t live there. “Hits From The Oxygen Bottle”…”Over The Hills And Warfarin Away”…”Nights in White Pravastatin”…”(Let’s Get) Physical (Therapy)…”Stairlift To Heaven”…”Code Blue Christmas”…”Fractured Hippy Shake”…”Like A Rolling Kidney Stone”… “Stray Cataract Blues”…”The Grandkids Are Alright”…”(Do You Remember) AM Talk Radio”…”Every Assisted Breath You Take”…”Walker This Way”…”We (Medi)Care A Lot”…now THOSE are titles befitting the Bedside Manorisms. “Greetings From Memphis” will just confuse people, or it would if anyone actually cared.
What, Indigestion???
What has he been getting a lot of lately? Compliments on behalf of his dead wife from people who barely knew her? Uh yeah…that’s real normal. Why is Boy Lisa suddenly consumed by things Lisa might have approved or been proud of? And at what point will his actual still-living wife and son receive that same degree of devotion?
Worst of all is how they’ve apparently formed some sort of deep bond over Lisa, exchanging playful sneers and wry banter like they’re old pals or something. It’s a development almost as vile and disturbing as Boy Lisa’s bizarre “mom” fixation is and maybe even worse if it’s going to continue to prompt more artwork like today’s. That stretch is bad enough but that smirk/sneer (“smeer”) in panel two is the most enraging drawing of the year bar none.
Stocking Snuffer
The joke here is that the Lisa Cancer Trilogy collection is so massive, expansive and all-encompassing it’s way too big to fit properly in this weirdo’s dead wife’s Xmas stocking. Imagine trying to explain this strip to someone unfamiliar with the eccentricities of the Funkyverse…
“Wait, the guy is buying a book about that guy’s dead wife as a Xmas gift for HIS dead wife?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“I don’t think we should be friends anymore.”
Three dudes hanging out at a book signing, just shooting the shit about the dead women in their lives. There’s only one “writer” alive today who’d mine that premise for chuckles. This is possibly the single worst Christmas story ever written and this Anon-O-Widower guy is one of BatHead’s most perverse creations ever. A guy who buys “Lisa’s Story” as a gift for his own dead wife…that’s a f*cking warped and disturbing fantasy scenario to dream up, even by FW standards.
A guy met Les at a “Lisa’s Trilogy” book signing and bought a copy to give to his dead wife as a Christmas present. Everyone smirked. This actually happened. We’re through the snarking glass here, people.
The Westviewian Book Of The Dead
“Lisa’s Trilogy”…the PERFECT holiday gift for that dead spouse in your life! Flowers, votive candles…that crap is all so temporary and trite. But “Lisa’s Trilogy”, now THERE’S a gift with some serious heft and permanence! Why, in a pinch it makes a totally acceptable tombstone…no worries about grave robbers with that weighty tome sitting on your loved one’s burial plot! And once it gets wet, soggy and frozen you’ll need a f*cking backhoe to drag “The Trilogy” out of there.
And for those still-living readers, what better way to re-live your own sense of deep loss and crushing grief than with a blow-by-blow account of Lisa Moore’s star-crossed poodle-headed life and tragic overwrought melodramatic death? See, some folks DO have things worse than you and you CAN’T do anything about it! It’s almost like an inspirational self-help guide, but the opposite! AND it’s personalized by the author himself!
“To my biggest dead fan…Merry Christmas! Condolences, Les Moore”…with a little Boy Lisa smiley face sketch beneath it. Man oh man, I have no idea what prompted this but Batiuk is going off the Lisa deep end again, killing off EVERYONE’S beloved wife in an increasingly desperate attempt to force everyone to remember his most prestigious prestige arc of all-time. It’s like he knows the ten year anniversary of “Lisa’s Story” is almost up and he’s racing to cram as much Lisa as possible into the strip before 2017 runs out. What a nut.
Son of Stuck Funky 