Tag Archives: St. Spires

by billytheskink | December 23, 2021 · 10:30 pm

Slowly they turned…

Today’s strip is pretty inoffensive, as these things go. It might border on “nice” if we liked a single one of these characters.

Not sure why Funky and Holly look so surprised to see Morton playing the trombone. They know Morton is in this band. They know the band is playing at St. Spires. They walk into the Christmas Eve service hearing the strains of “Silent Night”. Put two and two together…

OK, sure, most of the churches I’m familiar with place both the choir and orchestra in front of the congregation rather than behind, but such a slight difference wouldn’t floor me like a character from the late They’ll Do It Every Time.

Maybe Funky has an excuse, he thinks churches are places to practice driving, but Holly has been depicted as at least a somewhat regular churchgoer.

29 Comments

Filed under Son of Stuck Funky

Tagged as An idiocy of Winkerbeans, Anon-O-Characters, band, band directing, Bonnie, Carl, choir, choir loft, choir/organ, Christmas, church, church choir, church ladies, connie, Dinkle, Funky, Funky Winkerbean, Funky's dad, Harry Dinkle, Holly, Iris, Lillian, Lois, Mary Jane, Merry Christmas, Mort, Morton, Morton Winkerbean, music, music in general, musical instruments, Nancy, Now Funky, oddly muted squiggly lines, Old Dinkle, old Harry Dinkle, Pat, Ricca, squiggly lines, squiggly lines used to denote texture, St. Spires, symbols associated with Christianity, The Bedside Manorisms, the raptor claw in Holly's hair, Walt, Walt' Conie

by billytheskink | December 22, 2021 · 10:30 pm

Later On We’ll Inquire, While We Sing At St. Spires

Today’s strip might not quite be at the “Somehow Palpatine returned”-level, but “Luckily, one of the residents at Bedside Manor overheard that the band was playing here at St. Spires” is certainly on the list of history’s worst narrative solutions via exposition.

I think Funky and Holly must have gotten turned around driving on those snowy roads. Judging by the looks of this lady waving sheet music at them, I’d say they shot clear past Centerville, through a multiverse portal, and straight into Whoville. Specifically, the Whoville from the live-action Grinch movie. Fitting for this strip, I suppose.

49 Comments

Filed under Son of Stuck Funky

Tagged as Anon-O-Character, anon-o-character with oddly-shaped head, band, Batiukmobile®, Batiukmobiles®, Bedside Manor, bricks, Christmas, church, church choir, crippling snowfall, enraging hair strands, Funky, Funky Winkerbean, Funky's dad, Funkys, heavy snow, Holly, Merry Christmas, Mort, Morton, Morton Winkerbean, music in general, Now Funky, sheet music, snow, St. Spires, stupid, symbols associated with Christianity, The Bedside Manorisms, unnatural hand gestures, weird noses

by billytheskink | December 20, 2021 · 10:30 pm

Grossest In December

OK, I was kidding yesterday about skeevy Morton becoming a December tradition, but today’s strip takes my meanderings seriously. Who is the audience for this? OK, Greg Evans I guess, but who else?

I cannot decide which is more egregious:

The colorist’s decision to color both Funky’s and Morton’s coats blue (probably because they are just as confused by Morton and Funky’s converging ages as we are).
The Bedside Manor staff not knowing where five of their residents are.

If you are one of the 17 folks who own a copy of Roses In December or just a really really big Crankshaft fan, you may recall another story where a nursing home lost track of one of its residents. That time the nursing home had an excuse, as Ralph Meckler had kidnapped his Alzheimer’s-stricken wife and took her to Sotheby’s in New York to see his collection of vintage movie posters auctioned off.

19 Comments

Filed under Son of Stuck Funky

Tagged as Anon-O-Character, anon-o-nurses, Bedside Manor, bricks, cartoonish sexual tension, choir, choir loft, Christmas, connie, crippling snowfall, Funky, Funky Winkerbean, Funky's dad, Funkys, geriatric sex, hatchet face, heavy snow, Lillian, Lois, Merry Christmas, Mort, Morton, Morton Winkerbean, Nancy, Now Funky, Pat, rewarding the worst, sex, sexual innuendo, snow, Squick, St. Spires, terrible artwork, The Bedside Manorisms, things that make you seriously regret ever starting to read FW in the first place, Walt, Walt' Conie

by Epicus Doomus | November 26, 2021 · 10:30 pm

The Feast Of Maximum Occupancy

Link To This One

“Hi, Mom! Listen, we’ll be by to pick you up at around eleven. We made the stuffing you like and we picked up a few pies and…what’s that? Harry Dinkle? Who the f*ck is Harry Dinkle? But…but…your grandkids are looking forward to…uh huh, uh huh, yeah, uh, OK, I guess, but this is certainly unexpected and odd and…what? Why would WE eat Thanksgiving dinner at a band director’s house? Have you been taking your medicine?”

It’s pretty funny how Halle Dinkle re-appeared and was immediately pushed into the background by every single person Dinkle knows, plus quite a few he doesn’t. I count TWENTY-NINE people, which seems like WAY too many folks to cram into Dinkle’s cheap clapboard house for anything, let alone dinner. But hey, at least BatYam didn’t have to exert himself too much by, you know, writing a story or anything like that.

50 Comments

Filed under Son of Stuck Funky

Tagged as Bedside Manor, Bingo, Bonnie, Carl, connie, Dinkle, Harriet, Iris, Lillian, Lois, Mary Jane, multiple characters neccesitating many tags, Nancy, Pat, Ricca, St. Spires, Thanksgiving, Walt

by Epicus Doomus | November 20, 2021 · 10:28 pm

Oh This Week, Thou Art Wrong

Link To The Sunday Strip

Oh yeah, the funeral! I totally forgot all about that during last week’s nauseating little detour. Which is unusual, as it was the entire premise of the story. No one else on the planet “writes” like this, sometimes it’s like a weird piece of surrealistic abstract art that means whatever you want it to mean, but you don’t understand what that means, so you just ignore it. Know what I mean?

Anyhow, yeah, of course Dinkle pulled it off without a hitch, because “music” is his thing, you see. Look at him, high-stepping around in his little outfit. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to kill him more than I do today. The funniest thing about this arc was that the main protagonist, who started the whole ball rolling, was never identified by name and is dead. Again, no one else writes like this.

25 Comments

Filed under Son of Stuck Funky

Tagged as Anon-o-widow, Casket, choir, Dinkle, funeral, non-denominational minister, St. Spires, The Bedside Manorisms, traditional hymns, what does this have to do with New Orleans?

Tag Archives: St. Spires

Slowly they turned…

Later On We’ll Inquire, While We Sing At St. Spires

Grossest In December

The Feast Of Maximum Occupancy

Oh This Week, Thou Art Wrong

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