Tag: alcohol

The Gods Must Be Lazy

With his “home of the fearful” riff yesterday, it appeared Funky was about to launch into a political diatribe; however, today he veers into that other topic we’re supposed to never discuss in polite company. “Every day there’s news of one religion or another [emphasis mine] trying to elbow each other out of the way”? Uhh, ok. I guess he’s talking about those militant Presbyterians. Where the hell does Funky get his “news”?

‘Fraid New World

beckoningchasm
January 1, 2018 at 9:44 am
Why does it have to be a stupid acronym like ARID? Why not just use the real AA? You could publicize an organization that has actually done some good.

I suspected ARID’s clubhouse might be another Real Place in Ohio. When I Googled “ARID twelve and twelve,” the first result linked to a very outdated site, hosted at tripod.com and apparently the work of someone with a serious axe to grind with Alcoholics Anonymous. I won’t bother linking to it, out of my personal respect for AA and other twelve step programs (which the “ARID Site” dismisses as “recovery cultism”). A little more searching turned up the “Akron Arid Club”, an AA group which according to the Beacon Journal closed in 2011. The location still can be seen in Google Street view; other than being made of bricks, the building bears no resemblance to Monday’s exterior.

Now that we’ve cleared that up…Funky frets that his son and prospective daughter-in-law, two Army vets who met while clearing landmines in Afghanistan, may have difficulty dealing with today’s political climate. He should be more concerned about Cigarette Guy, whose plume of smoke threatens to cloud the whole room.

Alcoholics Eponymous

I guess we shouldn’t complain: having split most of the last couple years between indulging his comic book fetish and flogging his latest collection of strips, Tom Batiuk’s finally gets around to featuring his comic’s titular character. The last Funkycentric storyline we had was in March, in which he explored an abandoned house in the woods while pondering mortality. Funky’s funk has not lessened, driving him back to AA where he assumes a Jesus pose and bemoans the absence of his book-touring best friend Les (“un-Moore-d”, get it?). 

Did I Forget to Mention, Forget to Mention Memphis?

Home of Elvis and the ancient (band) geeks…Holiday greetings snarkers! It’s TFHackett, guest authoring for guest author SoSF David O.

A Sun session that lasted til sunrise, followed up with a night of fights and gunplay, finally catches up with the gang. Dinkle’s relieved to find the BM’s are nestled all snug in the van, ready for the 700-mile jaunt back to Westview. Sadly, fatigue will soon overtake Harry Dinkle as well; he’ll nod off behind the wheel somewhere along I-40 North, and all will be killed in the crash and subsequent explosion of Carl’s leaky oxygen tank. Thank you, Santa!