Les rather magnanimously inquires about Cory’s well-being. Funky replies “…I always used to worry about where he was headed.” He’s referring, of course, to Cory’s heyday of petty larceny, school vandalism, cheating, and sassing his teachers. You know: the days when Cory was the coolest, most likeable character in the strip. Anymore–I mean, nowadays, with Cory tiptoeing through the Bouncing Bettys in war-torn Iraquistan, I guess Funky no longer needs to worry about his “totally focused” stepson.
Tag: Funky
Panter Blitz
The ability to carry on a conversation while running is a reliable indicator of one’s physical fitness. Les, that magnificent bastard, demonstrates his unique gift of maintaining his douchebaggery at full gallop. Replace “Don’t take this the wrong way or anything…” with “I say, old chap…” and there you have it.
Bench Depress
As yesterday’s pitch blackness turns into cheerful dawn, our joggers pass by what appears to be a WWI “doughboy” sleeping on a park bench. The sight inspires Les (and Tom Batiuk) to launch another zinger about how “the Wall Street crowd” (aka the “greedy, immoral morons“) create so much misery for us decent folk.
Stick It Where the Sun Don’t Shine
For the second time this month, we’re being “treated” to Les and Funky, running and complaining. Les, who typically quotes the likes of Hemingway and Melville, this week seems reduced to speaking in aphorisms, but still delivers them with that oh-so-punchable trademark smirk.
It Goes Fast…But This Week Won’t
Epicus here filling in for the evening. I have to admit I didn’t see this coming, I thought the annual cancer fun run thing was confined to that horrible Sunday strip. But nope, BatBrain dropped Owen’s grand moment on the big stage just to run yet another ponderous “Lisa’s Legacy” promotional arc featuring the Wistful Widower and his fat trusty sidekick, Near-Death Man. Couldn’t this drivel have waited for a week? Or for eternity?
So I guess the timeline continuity just kinda comes and goes at TheAuthor’s convenience, eh? Don’t even get me going on that whole timeline conundrum thing again. Check out the dick with ears, strutting around with that #1 on his back, acting like a big shot just because HIS wife died making the annual fun run possible. What a dick.
And it’s official: here come the leaves. That means Westview’s annual three month long blizzard is right around the corner. Time really does fly, I suppose.
Son of Stuck Funky 
