A Toast to a Ghost

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As LesFest mercifully draws to a close, Funky lets the Cold Duck flow like champagne. As an alcoholic, he probably should delegate that task to someone else, but I guess since Funky was able to walk away from that vodka and orange, he is officially immune. Someone goes over to the Wurlitzer and fires up a sweet old Hank Williams song.

Darling let’s turn back the years
And go back to yesterday

Let’s go back even further: to the nerdiest wedding in history, the nuptial of Lisa (aka Robin the Boy Wonder) and Les (aka Batman) Moore.

Let’s pretend that time has stopped
And I didn’t go away

But honey, if you didn’t “go away”, I’d have nothing to write about, and I wouldn’t have all of northeastern Ohio lining up to kiss my ass.

We had our love to make us happy

I’m assuming that’s a younger, more svelte Funky dressed as gay Spiderman, deftly deflecting the bridal bouquet towards future first wife Cindy Summers (shown here still sporting her narwhal-like hairstyle).

It wasn’t meant to bring us tears

Of course, this being the Funkiverse, everything brings us tears. But I’m not going to waste time crying over Crazy Harry’s awful Fat Elvis “impersonation”, or the fact that Ann Apple’s pink jacket has turned blue.

Love like ours should never die
So darling let’s turn back the years

Let’s all raise a can of ginger ale to Les. And for the love of God, can we move on to a different plotline?

Wishing everybody a Halloween that is much less lame than the one depicted here!

–TFH

Must Be the Shoes

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Funky has sought out a park bench far away from the crowd in order to limber up his wobbly, creaky,  Stilton-toned legs, when along comes Crazy Harry. “Crazy” actually seems kind of normal today. It’s only when he’s in his postal uni and tweed cap, swilling free coffee at Montoni’s counter, that he rambles nonsensically. What does our mailman deliver today? Just a setup for yet another Funky rant about the cost of living.

The Race is On

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Is this the Lisa’s Legacy Race or the Halloween Parade? How else to explain the person with Funky who is wearing that giant paper mache replica of Holly’s head? Check the body language of Mr. and Mrs. Winkerbean: instead of ambling along, arm in arm, Funky appears to be elbowing Holly aside, while she staggers under the weight that gargantuan cranium. I’m not kidding, that head’s like Sputnik! Spherical, but quite pointy in parts. Well, that was off sides, wasn’t it? She’ll be crying herself to sleep tonight…on her huge pillow. (Can anyone name that movie?)

From bedridden in a neckbrace to Wimbeldon all in two weeks!

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Guess blogger David Orth here, filling in while TFHackett takes care of his aunt’s cat while she’s out of town. I have seen the future and it’s going to hard to be punny this week but bear with me!

Not much to say about today’s strip, other than I seem to recall a certain now very dead Lisa having a similar comic-cover panel showing her as Wonder Woman and fighting cancer. We all know how that turned out, right, huh?

It’s also exasperating that, even with a buff body and thankfully-shaded package that Funky is still able to deliver stilted dialog that no one would ever say.

Say it with me. I live. I am alive!

Across the Crazyverse

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Another Sunday, another episode of The Old Philosopher. Even Funky, in the throwaway first couple of panels, is beginning to lose patience with this old fool. “Oh shit…Harry’s formulating another one of his wacky observations…Hey! Hey! Postie! Get the hell outta here now. Really. Stop taking up space at my counter and go deliver the goddamn mail!”

But no, Funky the enabler has to ask him what he’s “thinking”. What follows is so thuddingly lame and nonsensical (“swallowing helium”? Swallow this!) that Funky cannot even muster a smirk.