If Carl’s breathing apparatus in yesterday’s strip was some kind of sympathy ploy, it didn’t seem to help him sell any candy. Today Carl’s traded his nasal cannula for his horn, and is looking a little more chipper and a little less prone to drop dead at any second. Not only does that bastard Dinkle force them to peddle “Raisin’ the” bars to finance their CD, the Manorisms rehearsals have been known to last well past the typical nursing home bedtime. I don’t think medical marijuana is strictly legal yet in Ohio; in any case I think Iris and the boys would need something a little stronger to put up with Dinkle.
Tag: squiggly lines
In Soviet Russia, the Sack Hits You!
Cayla’s definitely put something in Les’ hot cocoa, but instead of lethal poison (our choice), mayhap she’s slipped in a little sumpin’ sumpin’ that will put some lead in Les’ stubby little pencil. Have we ever seen Les be the one to initiate a romantic encounter, with Cayla or any of the women who’ve fought over his writer ass? At least this time Cayla doesn’t have to take Les by the hand and drag him up the stairs.
That’s Good! No, That’s Bad!
Along with his cloying false modestly, Les’ other key character trait is his fear of success. He forgets that time in his writing career when the only news he got from publishers came in the form of rejection letters. And it was only last month that Les couldn’t produce more than one sentence until Darin showed up to reminisce with Les about “Mom.” Inspired, Les squeezed out the literary equivalent of a stool sample which he sent off to the lab the publisher. Naturally the publisher loved it and wanted more, meaning—horrors!— that Les would be forced to continue working on what he considers his life’s passion.
Garage Schlock
In case you missed it:
7th anniversary contest continues! Post your entries as comments on Monday’s post.
From the FW blog: “I feel I should say something about some of the things being said about yesterday’s Funky Sunday…”
I have to wonder if today’s strip reflects the real-life goings on at Batiuk’s “Cartoon Castle”: the dutiful wife furnishing the “brilliant writer” with flattery and hot chocolate. Though he loves to lecture others about what it means to be a writer, when it comes to his own craft, Les tries and fails miserably at self deprecation. The clumsy perspective in panel 2 perfectly captures the true essence of Les, as his giant, swollen head threatens to overtake the whole room.
Tandboori Chicken
What!? After pulling the rug out from under us once with that “It was just a video game” cop-out ending to the Wally getting IED’d story arc Tomhack wastes our week with more of the same in today’s strip
How much of this is a dream!? Because Darin working on a major Hollywood movie with pretty much nil experience seems more like a far-fetched fever dream than them illegally boarding a Chinese vessel. Is this Inception or some shit I don’t have time for? Is Pete dreaming all this back in New York!?
Son of Stuck Funky 
