Meanwhile, the B-Ball Besties share some one-on-one time, but She Who Dunks has to cut their shootaround short: she has a date with Les-tiny!
O.B. Dan
…[D]on’t miss tomorrow’s guest appearance of Mopey Pete, starring as “the basketball-playing daughter.”
Wow. Least-feminine rendering of Summer to date.
The ol’ “low battery” conversation-ender, eh, Les? I usually go the “kssshhhh! kssshhhh! You’re breaking up kssshhhh!” fake-static route when I’m trying to cut a cell phone call short.
Doesn’t Les know that in the Funkiverse, to note the absence of “any problems” is to bid them appear? It’s called jinxing yourself. The White Courtesy Phone doesn’t need batteries, Les…and it tolls for you.
Seriously. I can’t take it anymore. We get it: people love cancer stories and the men who write them. I went back and counted: this is the seventh strip depicting adoring fans lining up to kiss Les’ literary ass. Seems like there have been a lot more than that. Ponderous, man, effin’ ponderous. Today’s groupie is sporting the “pink with black scribbles” jacket made popular by Ann Apple!
Les can’t figure out why the laptop isn’t synching with the projector. I can’t figure out what is going on with the guy’s head in the third row: the poor man seems to be suffering from some hideous, tumorous facial deformity. To compliment his increasingly slack and haphazard “writing”, TB has been playing fast and loose when it comes to drawing characters that are even remotely lifelike. In recent weeks we’ve been treated to a Mr. Incredible look-alike at the book signing, a goofy band-turkey customer, and numerous characters with impossibly tiny hands.
He’s self-effacing when he should be confident, and smug when he should be humble. The Les Moore Book Tour rolls on. His li’l Chia Pet back home offers Les some encouragement: “…it’s your destiny.” Yeah, right.
Son of Stuck Funky 
