He has his own closet

2/23/10

“So, Cassie, who was that young, horribly dressed gent we saw you groping and licking just now?”
“That was no gent, that was the janitor!”
“A janitor, eh? Well, just so long as you’re not planning on dating an older boy again.”
“Oh don’t worry, I don’t plan on dating anybody. I’m just gonna schtoop him in the janitor’s closet.”
“He has his own closet? What an impressive gent. He’s 18, right?”
“Stop saying gent!”

2/24/10

At practice…
Ummm, does anyone on the coaching staff, or any players beside Cassie even attend “practice” anymore? Nevermind, stupid question.

And then…
Steve, attempting to avoid another set of statutory rape charges, shoves a mop through his brain.

And Cassie’s not the only one trawling around in the gutter…
Gil, with his copious free time, Googles Steve Luhm, realizing if he ever graduates college, he might be less willing to do all the Thorp family work for free. Time to kick a chin-strokin’ plan into action, Gil…Initiate Plan “Get compromising photos of the janitor!”

Monday morning sickness to my stomach

2/20/10

2/22/10

If he’s so cute, how come you close your eyes when you’re within two feet of him? Barf. At the beginning of all this I thought Cassie was a pretty cool character, but now it’s clear she’s just another girl with daddy issues. The only nice thing I can think of to say today is that at least all this nonsense has kept Jam-Jar Gaddis from any appearances for several weeks.

And where’d Steve run off to so fast? It seems he heard Micah Huang was showering in the locker room.

Return of the bald-ass mutha

2/18/10

Steve’s part in his hair is so low, I think the final reveal in this storyline will be that he’s been completely bald since he was seven years old. And after he realized his high school helmet hairpiece was woefully out of date, he needed an upgrade in style…However, he couldn’t afford a new wig on a janitor/assistant coach/newspaper editor/general creepy meddler’s salary, so he had to go with the comb-over.

How is “bald people” a final reveal in a Gil Thorp storyline? I dunno, but it worked before, right?

2/19/10

In a striking blow to equality in women’s sports, Neal Rubin shows that spending an entire week on the girl’s basketball game is exactly as boring as when he does it for a boy’s game.

Apparently she can work the balls ambidextrously

There’s no way I can read today’s comic without dirty, dirty thoughts about panel 2. So let’s just move on to panel 3, where I’m still not sure who’s stealing the ball from who, but what a sweet crooked afro!

If only the pimp-tastic coat would return too…

And so Steve Luhm finally wears out his unsolicited advice welcome. Looks like he’s really pissed off Mimi this time. Better watch out Steve…last time a yelling, poorly-dressed fan annoyed Mimi this much, she made her the assistant coach. (True, I mainly linked to that first page for the pimp-tastic coat, but can you blame me?)

Hulk-Thing, you make this blog sing

2/12/10

Sorry, folks, I didn’t plan to be in absentia for a couple days, right when Rubin runs things off the rails! (But can you really blame me for being lulled to sleep over the past two months?) It seems Steve “Fruity the” Luhm has become the Mary Worth of Milford High…He’s moved from meddling in the affairs of the coaches who don’t do anything anyway, to giving unsolicited advice to the losers at the school paper. Apparently since ol’ Fred Kotesky quit being their advisor, the Trumpet staff pretty much lets anyone wander in their offices and boss them around.

So why are Brock Reed and Duncan Daley like the Hulk and the Thing? I guess because they both smell horrible, walk around punching people while not wearing anything but tattered pants, and suck at basketball. Well clearly since this idea makes no sense, nobody in their right mind would let this confusingly bad concept catch on…right?

2/13/10

Oh right,  for one brief moment I forgot…we’re in crazy-ass Rubin world, where every couple of years the fans go completely bat-shit insane for one game with outrageous and ridiculously specific costumes. At least this time they aren’t so laughably racist. Instead they’re just plain stupid. Note that the most interesting couple in Milford wouldn’t be caught dead in a crowd of missing chromosomes like this mess of a panel one.

Well that about does it. (What, you ask?) The way I see it, the rest of the season can’t be topped by panel one. It just can’t. So I’ll have to spend the next several weeks reliving it and making sub-par “Hulk-Thing” penis jokes until I nod off again. Well, it’s been fun while it lasted.

2/15/10

See what I mean?

Mopper’s Mouth

“Reed and Daley made the difference against Goshen – hey wait, why the hell is your hand like that?”
“Mopper’s elbow.”
“In any case, nobody noticed that we played on our hilariously giant court. Did you know that backboard is eight feet across? I’m surprised our tall, awful players couldn’t score more than three points!”
“Hope you don’t mind…but I may have done something about that. I’d have gone with the hilariously undersized court. Even an idiot like Brock Reed can hit a shot on the three-foot tall basket. Also, I would have coached the players for at least thirty seconds, not been drunk throughout the game, and not left halfway through the second quarter on a beer run.”
“Oh that’s right, I’m out of beer again. Cover for me while I go get some more.”
“How long will you be?”
“Oh three or four months should cover it.”

The Interestingness Hangover is making ‘em hurl

Naturally, the day after the most interesting couple in Milford stops by, there’s bound to be a letdown. And we have a second day in a row of inappropriately smiling big men as they leap through the air with the ball. This kind of cocky behavior causes the fan in the fourth row to vomit all over his poncho.