What a moustache-whitening twist!

12/15/09

Yep, I wanted to wait ’til something happened before I posted again. Despite football “action” here, I don’t see anything happening yet. Two drunk fans trying to start the wave while everyone else dozes doesn’t count.

12/16/09

Gil still there with four minutes to play? Yeah, that’s definitely unusual (maybe he locked his keys in his car?) but it’s still nothing happening. Jam-Jar running away from Jesus in panel three? Yep, that’s getting closer to something that’s something. Wake me when he gets caught.

12/17/09

Hey, instead of showing the winning play, we get to witness the other players pick Jam-Jar up, no doubt to deposit him in the nearest dumpster for egotistical jerks who refer to themselves in the third person. Not surprisingly, said dumpster is also Marty Moon’s home. The two egotistical jerks jaw off, though Marty with his greater years of jerky experience, causes Jam-Jar to slowly melt.

The melting off of his outer layer has caused li’l Jammie to forget about the fact that his man-crush on that Amazon dude Valerie, was well, crushed by that Amazon dude Valerie, and so he’s off to try his luck again. Looks like something is on the verge of happening….!

12/18/09

Whoah…who’s far-too-detailed crotch might that be? Well, if we were to be boringly predictable, it would have to be Deion Brand, band geek (TM)! So I’ll be shocked if that isn’t the case. However, at least for today, we can hold out hope it’s someone more ridiculous…As already suggested, perhaps the elusive Mr. Bakst? Tiger Woods? Clambake? My guess for a better twist: Valerie’s creepily too-proud father! Whoever it is, it’s turned Jam-Jar’s bizarre moustache-upper-lip thingie from black to white! Stay tuned, fans of band geeks with far-too-detailed crotches…Tomorrow should be your day!

1970s Bush-face Explains it All!

11/10/09

“Hey Ma. Thanks for getting here so quickly! This place is scary…they say the ghost of Bing Crosby shuffles through the halls, pretending to be a doctor!”
“Well, it was a pretty long trip, or maybe it wasn’t? We had that loser Coach Shaw drive us all the way from Milford. He had nothing better to do, and it really wasn’t very far from here…Or wait, was it?”
“Oh and thanks for covering up the high beams you normally have goin’ on at home.”
“Well the jacket’s just for this cold room…how do you think I got us all in here past visiting hours…and got the guard, (who I presume exists, since somebody is supposed to be, you know, WATCHING A PRISONER when he’s not in JAIL??) to go home early?”
“That was quite the parenthetical aside, ma.”
“Thanks!”

11/11/09

“So Campo said somethin’ about my face taunting me, reminding him of  ‘1970s Bush’.  Then he whipped out that pointy thing from his pants and pricked me repeatedly. What a dick!”

Prison Rape Jokes: The staple of any good blog entry!

A Workin’ by the Railroaders (all the live-long week)

10/5/09

“…Yep, and the doc also said the best way to heal the injury was to walk around rubbing my upper arm, and to carry around these lead weights everywhere.”
“Are you sure he’s a real doctor?”
“Sure, of course Skippy the Angry Janitor is a real doctor. He even showed me his degree from Cancun Tech!”

Then some other stuff happened.

10/6/09

Having hit rock bottom already by starting Charles Bloom at the start of the season, the Mudlarks are forced to dig themselves even deeper by trotting out a college golfer at QB.

Luckily nobody cares, as they’ve scheduled the game against the Newton Railroaders of Kansas. Hopefully when Milford is done stinking, Newton will be able to help ride them out of town on one of their spare rails.

10/7/09

Poor Kaz. Since Gil is busy skipping his AA meeting, and nobody told Coach Shaw that there was a game, he’s stuck to send the punting unit on the field every thirty seconds or so. By the time the Mudlarks start to wear down, the three bored shadow fans and Marty Moon have all gone home, leaving only Kaz and Skippy, who has a creepy habit of standing way too close to people, to watch the confusing game. So…many…appendages!

Ease up, dumbed-down Dunc!

10/2/09

The only thing of interest going on here (since we didn’t get to see Duncan finish kicking that guy’s ass) is the return of “ease up”! For previous “ease up” experiences at this blog, click here.

10/3/09

“Wait, why are we doing things at…half…speed? So nobody gets hurt?”
“Nah we could give a rat’s ass about that. The only downside to an injury is that then we have to see that loser trainer Rick Scott. Mainly we do it half…speed so that if Gil ever shows up (I know, I know, like that will happen…) we can be moving at a speed that his drunk ass can kinda follow. Now go crush that Charles Bloom wuss again, while he’s sitting on the bench. Smack him around like he was a bad driver. Just be sure you do it in slow motion.”
“Yes…sir.”

The douchiest douche that ever douched

9/30/09

10/1/09

OK, so we now know that Duncan is secretly a bad-ass ninja. Which is awesome. But we also now confirm that Robbb is the new King of Douche-Town. If you recall (or even if you don’t), Robbbb spent last spring hanging around with Chump Drumbo and was constantly amused by his awful salt shaker antics. But then Robbbbb realized that he would rather be Supreme Douche rather than just Assistant Douche, and thus turned Chump-bo in for something about a cellphone or something.

Now he drives around like an asshole, then goads other drivers into fights in which he doesn’t participate. And then tries to goad Duncan into even further violence. Douchy indeed! So of recent douches of Milford, which I think would be every main character for the last two years, who do you think is the real king? Robbbbb, Shemp-o? Bryce Larkin? Matt the Hatt? Elmer Vargas? Andrew Gregory? (It’s sad how long this list is.  Maybe the Franklin Mint should come out with a collectible plate series for these guys.)

Duncan Dodge

Uh-oh. The bad-tempered curmudgeon wants a fight! And the  increasingly-evil-looking Robb seems happy to oblige…He’s also apparently mistaken boring Duncan for killer Cully, in terms of enforcement abilities.

Fortunately, boring Duncan doesn’t need any skills besides ACTION-DUCKING, as our protagonist apparently took his boxing lessons from one-legged Bill, rather than attending the more prestigious Bob Kazinski’s Boxing Academy. Guess that’s all he could afford on an angry blogger’s salary.

Make Like A Ghost And Discorporate

9/26/09

It would be ironic if Jamarr walked out of the Bucket, got crushed by the honking and screeching K car and became an actual ghost. He could then haunt Milford and give otherworldly warnings to future would be sports stars who don’t learn to keep a sock in it. I’m not saying he deserves death just because he’s got an inflated sense of himself and an overripe expectation of poon for his short-lived gridiron glory. Besides, this kind of tragedy is unheard of in Milford (limb loss, okay, vehicular manslaughter, not so much). We all know that Jamarr is eventually going to learn a lesson and we’re most likely going to be so sick of him that we’ll be disappointed that it didn’t happen in a more tragic and painful way.

Reader vaganova said in a comment on yesterday’s post:

All this is possible without anything as dramatic as a drunken Marty Moon crashing his car through the front window.

I hope vaganova is psychic (or has advanced access to Gil Thorp) because I would love for that car to be Marty hurtling out of control on a collision course with the Bucket. The seeds have already been planted for some kind of alcohol related mishap. Could it really be? We’ll have to wait until Monday for the eventual letdown.

Jason should be back to pick up the pieces on Monday. Thanks to all the commenters for making with the funny this week. You guys are so cool, you’d make Valerie Okumbe swoon.

A Track Meet? But We Didn’t Bring Our Javelins!

9/24/09

We can’t linger too long at the Daley house. We’ve got to get some games in! So here’s another Milford win (and another lesson learned by “the Insufferable Asshole” “the Ghost”).

Some disjointed, quickly compiled observations:

• Someone stole the 40 watt light bulb from Marty’s booth
• Attendance at  Milford games is down. A discarded, rolled up wrestling mat showed up though. Quick, check it for MRSA! (Shout out to an old Rex Morgan MD storyline)
• The two benchwarmers are totally checking out Gil’s ass.