Tag: Cayla

CL

Link to today’s strip, when it appears.

So, I asked recently if Les Moore has ever done anything, since his “chairmanship” of the Coming Reunion Committee seems to involve him handing his duties to other people.  Apparently, the answer is “no,” since we now learn that the one job he had to do–find a location–was not done.  In fact, I’m gathering it wasn’t even discussed.

Now, this is remarkably stupid, even for this comic strip.  I’ve never planned a reunion, but I’d think one of the first items on the agenda would be to decide on a location, since everything else kinda depends on that.   But Les didn’t think of that, and not one of the ninnies he was directing thought to ask.  Wow.

So Les is a FAILURE at scouting and selecting a location, and he’s a FAILURE at heading the Coming Reunion committee.  No wonder he doesn’t want to do anything, and moans when he has to.  He’s a FAILURE at everything he does.   He should have pointed this out to Cindy right from the start and saved them all the heartburn.

Speaking of heartburn, sigh, of course we know how this little episode will resolve itself–Funky will be gracious, and somewhere near the end of this week or the next, Funky will smugly proclaim, “We don’t call Montoni’s the Chapel of Reunions for nothing!” as the class of ’78 sits down to grease-laden pizza slices.   There are times when the strip is bafflingly unpredictable, and other times when you can see the denouement coming from miles away.

Anyway, I just wanted to point out that this is my 150th post on this blog.   (Hence the Latin numeral title.)  Good grief (as another well-known blockhead was wont to exclaim).  I’m not sure whether to celebrate or mourn, to be honest.   One hundred and fifty?  You blockhead!

As always, I thank you for your indulgence and your courtesy.  Tomorrow, the incomparable Epicus Doomus takes over; be prepared to be entertained as he regales you with tales that witness madness…while I ponder, weak and weary,  what my 151st post will bring, when next I resume the host’s chair.  Until then…pleasant…dreams?  Ha ha ha ha ha!

In Memory Yet Gr

Link to today’s strip.

I’ve not heard of a memory board, and at first I thought it might be a “In Memorium” thing for all the students who died and thus were unable to attend.  Look at that giant pile of photos, I thought.  The high school must have been built on a toxic waste dump from an abandoned nuclear plant that was built on an Indian graveyard.

Then I saw that Cindy had a photo of Les, so I guess a memory board is just a “here’s what you looked like before you got old, fat, and bald!” poster.  But then I went back to my first thought, and I wondered if this was Cindy’s way of saying she was going to kill Les!  That would be awesome, go Cindy go!  At last a character whose dreams and aspirations we can all get behind.  Here’s to a new era in Funky Winkberbean!

Of course, back to reality–contemporary reality, of course, with its issues–we go.  Look at Les in panel one.  Oh, oh, oh, poor little unappreciated me.  Oh, woe is me, no one is capable of understanding me.  Boo hoo hoo.   I cannot understand why his face isn’t tattooed with bruises from the rain of punches he must receive every day.

Memorial Day

Link to today’s strip.

Memorial Day is the holiday wherein we remember those who gave all so that we might be free.  In Westview, however, Memorial Day is when you remember when you were in high school.   For a strip that prides itself on “contemporary issues,” Tom Batiuk sure seems mired in nostalgia.

Last week, we had Detestable Dinkle; we’ve now been handed Loathsome Les.   Talk about a one-two punch–the only thing that could make this worse is if was Dinkle himself handing over the box.  “The missus and I thought you could use these marital aids; we’ve worn these out, but don’t want to throw them away.”

And of all the storylines that Mr. Batiuk has juggling, he figures the one we’re most anxious to get to is this high school reunion thing.   As I’ve said before, I cannot for the life of me imagine why they bother having a reunion–every member (still living) who graduated from that class sees every other member, every day.  There’s not a lot of catching up to do.  Now, if the actual reunion appears and we see folks all bored, sitting around and not talking, then I will salute Tom Batiuk for a joke well-played.   I have a feeling that won’t happen, though.  These sorts of things seem to be too vital to him–not a laughing matter, as it were, and another dull story to suffer through.

Granted, none of the other stories currently in mid-stride are interesting either–the band box is utterly trivial, and we know Pete as script doctor is going nowhere–but they at least contain the possibility that a new location, or a new character, or new anything might happen along.  Instead, we get badly-drawn Les (my only reaction to panel two is What the Hell?!).  Anything involving Les is clouded by noxious fumes.  At least he doesn’t say anything this time; he and Cayla are too involved in watching “Miffed Man” on television.  Ding dong!  Why, who could that be?

Who indeed!

People are strange, when you’re on Facebook

We’re in for another day of Les whining about his class reunion, so here’s today’s strip, or, “In which Facebook flummoxes the English teacher, tending towards his untimely demise,” because Les never met a responsibility that he didn’t flinch from.

Cayla magnanimously offers to “friend” Les. What this says about their relationship, I don’t even want to explore. I mean, what wife puts her husband in the friend zone? Let’s just say it’s been a long time since we saw that exterior view of the Moore residence in the rain, and leave it at that.

They’re not having sex, is what I’m saying.

The good news is that this storyline is being abruptly dropped, as is BanTom’s wont. At press time, I don’t know what Sunday will bring, but Monday will be a flash-cut to 25-year-old high-school juniors Owen & Cody. They will discuss the provenance of lunch.

Then there will be a Les/Funky road trip.

So, you know, abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

Montoni’s pizza is people! It’s people!

In today’s strip, a slouching, lumpy Les McHarris carries a Montoni’s Pizza box home for his long-suffering wife. The box is completely white, but for “Montoni’s” and “Pizza” inscribed only on the edges. It is otherwise unadorned.

In panel 1, a hungry, hungry Cayla Wrich greets her mate with bitter sarcasm. “Our ‘meals on wheels,’” she begins with ominous scare quotes, “took a while…” She pauses menacingly, like a sharp-pincered scorpion. Venom drips from her tail. “I expected you sooner.”

“I tried calling and texting you to see what was holding you up,” she does not add, because that would interfere with the narrative, which involves characters behaving unlike any actual human.

“I got hung,” panel 2 has Les beginning succinctly, “up while I was in the process of agreeing to take over the chairmanship of my high school class reunion celebration event,” he continues, goes on, and says at length.

The final panel would have been better had Cayla stabbed Les with her foot-long stinger, cutting him apart with her claws, and devouring him. Instead, we get the punchline.

“Surely, you’re joking, Mr. Munyon.”

“Do you see me laughing?”

Do you see the readers laughing?