At Least It Didn’t BONK!

2/21/13

“It was good for us to be infantile and delusional and to feed into the mass hysterical stupidity that surrounds us in this strange reality and it helped us excel in these foolish games we play as an outlet for our bottled up sexual urges. Now get up off the floor before you get a MRSA infection and I’ll take you to the Bucket for some reprocessed chicken beak nuggets and a Sprite. Why don’t we stop at Supercuts and have them try and fix your JFK haircut?”

A lid? Well, that hardly seems sporting!

Another Week, Another Eh

9/24/12

Not sure, but it looks like Terry Gallagher is calling Chip Visci a huge pussy.

9/25/12

Not sure, but it looks like Stefan Harvey is offering Terry Gallagher some crack.

9/26/12

Not sure, but it looks like Terry Gallagher’s gonna text his Dad and tell him not to wait up.

9/27/12

Not sure, but Doyle Dane might just be the stupidest new character in a long time. To what end does one high school student “market” another high school student? It doesn’t matter. This “plot point” need not make sense as it has zero potential for any payoff, except maybe some jokey thing where Doyle Dane gets stuck with a bunch of Irish Dude t-shirts with ridiculous puns on them.

9/28/12

Not sure, but it looks like that psychotic kid brought his inflatable sex doll to the Ballard game (and Jamarr Gaddis is in attendance again).

9/29/12

Not sure, but  I think Coach Shaw is getting shortchanged on again! Maybe he needs some marketing help from Doyle Dane to increase his visibility in the ultra competitive face time landscape.

 

In interesting comments to old posts news, a comment was left on the post featuring Molly Kinsella and her cardboard underwear by Mkins, who states that she is the real Molly Kinsella and the inspiration for Milford’s Molly Kinsella:

Coming across this strip is too funny. I actually am the Molly Kinsella that this character was based off of and, while I haven’t followed where the strip went, Rubin did actually spot a picture of me in a carboard box outfit (not a swimsuit tho…) on facebook! I had posted it because it was funny. I WAS being “silly” with some college friends for a dorm event and we had to construct silly outfits from cardboard for an event. Nothing creepy, nothing weird, no alcohol (or caffeine even as I recall), just a funny and fun time with friends. It wasn’t even too racy, but eventually I did take the picture down because of pressure that it would interfere if employers saw it (which I’m sure it would have!). Thanks for the fun reads on this page though, too funny that a real, random event from my life became a strip in Gil Thorp! loved all the strips growing up!!! And I did play basketball in high school! :)

Thanks for stopping by mkins. Feel free to share your picture and let us decide if it’s weird or creepy. C’mon, no employer is gonna find it here!

Everything’s More Fun When You’re Holding The Whistle

9/6/12

Hey, what happened to the “Goddess of Basketball”? We barely got to know Cyndy Canty and we’re already introducing two new characters, Mia Meeks and Doyle Dane. (See a pattern here?) Okay, so what’s Doyle Dane’s story? He’s another potential rival for Terry Gallagher, who’s going to start shagging and making enemies any day now.

9/7/12

So Doyle’s basically a douchey stalker in a sweater vest, so Terry might want to steer clear of stalker target, Mia Meeks so Doyle doesn’t shiv him with a protractor. Looks like the Irish import’s drawing attention from all over, so he can take his pick.

Well done, Neal. You’ve got us guessing where this is going to go, ascribing all kinds of potential love triangles or love parallelograms. Now we wait to see how you will forget to further any of this or otherwise overcook it into the same old mush.

9/8/12

Speaking of overcooked mush…oh yeah, football season and (back by popular demand!) Steve Boone. Well, that’s certainly…hey look, Kaz’s little forelock curl is waving at us from behind Steve’s speech bubble. Hi there!

Meanwhile Chipper is taking advantage of the Gallagher’s lax attitude about underage drinking by visiting Terry’s house and getting twisted on the black stuff.

“Whipped? Putting pads on? I have no idea what this mentaller is rabbiting on about, but I guess I’ll have to go have a squizz”

Next Up: The Shiela With The Botched Nose Piercing

1/5/12

And thus concludes this week’s after school special, “The Boy Who Got Something Really Stupid Inked on His Shoulder”. Thank you Coach Kaz for those stirring words. We shall all take them to heart. I was this close to getting a tat of Gil Thorp being conked on the head with a baseball, but Kaz set me straight (plus I also heard some bad stuff about that guy with the tattooing stall at the flea market).

So what’s more effective in deterring the wave of students getting ink, Kaz’s impassioned speech or Stefan Harvey distractedly pecking at his scabby M on the way down the court?

1/6/12

Nothing says Milford like a crowd full of goobers instantly displaying some weird ritualistic behavior. We now see the birth of the Tat Slap (which is only two letters away from Taint Slap and thus extremely unnerving). Who’s out there slapping their “tats” like they just don’t care? It’s Freckles Versace, Cully Vale’s little brother Skutch Vale,  Skippy McPainterhat, Blondie McStartermullet and John Flansburgh from They Might Be Giants.

Meanwhile, slender soph Ric Devore rejects the idea of joining the inking trend, based on threats of parental violence, He also is distracted by Freckles Versace, who may actually be wearing a Ric Devore mask.

1/7/12

Hullo, Shielas, don’t mind my funky hand, I had too many Fosters’ and mistook it for a bunch of shrimp, so I threw it on the barbie. Pierce your nose? Yeah, I could put a real ripsnorter in your beak, but are any of you ladies interested in getting some work done down under? I could ink your mappa tassie. Um, vegamite, dinkum, kangaroos loose in the top paddock!

 

We’ve secretly replaced all characters in this comic with Folgers Crystals

10/31/11

Ah, it’s taken longer than usual but Gil has finally gotten into what he does best: convincing someone to do all his coaching for him for free! (Really, why would we expect anything different at this point?)  In addition, it seems he’s wisely selected a guy named Chip (Schatz?) to do the short-range kicking.

11/1/11

…which is followed by what I can only assume is Gil having a stroke in the second panel here. With the bizarre offer of “manager shagging” and some odd-ass facial twitching it’s definite that something’s not quite right here. Which is confirmed by the third panel…”stay focused”? “game plan”? Was stroke-riddled Gil replaced by a robot?

11/2/11

To help prove our suspicions that Marty stays locked in his crate at all times, today we’re treated to his appearance in the exact same crate as last game, even though that game was at home and this one is away at Jeffrey J. Jeffworth Memorial field (aka “The Jeff Jeff”).

Perhaps we should start a new conspiracy theory that Marty Moon actually died two years ago and he’s only being kept in the comic via low-tech Hollywood trickery, kind of like Bruce Lee or Livia Soprano.

Wait, who kicked that extra point?

Remember Pokémon? Good, because we’re name dropping it to make you feel sad.

10/24/11

Good thing Gil brought his own whiskey flask to pour into his industrial-sized jug o’ coffee, because “Sad Stories of Milford (now with crazy-angle flashbacks!)” is a pretty depressing  thing to sit through.

10/25/11

Today, we can see Gil’s wheels turning, (while his chins are busy multiplyin’), as he contemplates the best way to produce a wacky new cable-access show “That’s Asperger’s!” Or perhaps he’s simply wondering “Wait…did that lady just say Poke a Mom?”

Meanwhile, I have a question for this so-called “Booster Club”: Where have you guys been for the last decade of poor coaching and questionable calls? Was the drunken, spaced out bald guy in the front row in charge for all that time? Perhaps it’s only when baldy was declared clinically dead this past spring that Wildcat took the reins of this fine, well-organized drinkin’ club. As long as he can continue to present himself with all the subtle nuanced charm of Hobart, I’m sure things will end for Mr. Cat. (And his new cable-access show “That’s Wildcat!”)

Now let’s all stay home and watch your mom snoorx herself.

8/17/11

“You’ve got a plan? Is it an intermission?”
“No, we’re still in the middle of the  scene!”
“No, I  mean, uh that thing where we all confront my mom and tell her how she has a problem and it makes us sad and junk…”
“An intervention? Hell no! It’s time for nonsensical wacky hijinks! I’ll tell you about it tomorrow…”

8/18/11

 

“OK, I’ve been waiting all day…so what do we do?”
“Well, after I pull the ol’ Torrey Peake point at the reader trick…It’s time to pull out the video camera!”
“What, why?”
“Jeez, didn’t you know videotaping stuff in Milford is comedy gold! Or occasionally SUPER comedy gold. Except of course when it’s not. Or when it’s really, really not.”
“So the plan is: Take video of my mom passed out?”
“Well…at least ’til she says ‘SNOORX’.”
“Boy, that ought to solve the problem.”
“Based on those links of everyone in this town always taking video of everything, you have a 50% chance of hilarity.”
“I like those odds. Then again, I don’t know math.”

8/19/11

“Gee Coach, I thought secretly filming my mom would feel skeezy and perverted, but I have to admit…it’s starting to give me a bit of a chub.”
“Good, that’s progress. Now did you find out where the key to the liquor cabinet is yet?”
“No, and to top it off, the battery went dead 30 minutes after she passed out naked in the shower. But I didn’t get mad about it! I’m sure glad my new-found enjoyment of my mother is making me less angry!”

Show Us Your Larks!

8/12/11

So Gil woke up from his nap in the practice bunker and now he has to piece together what’s going on with his summer golf academy. That’s classic Gil right there, maintaining a safe distance from the source of the problem to minimize the potential heavy lifting.

Meanwhile, nobody pushes Molly in a parking lot! Slip up again Lark and you’ll find yourself pounded with all sorts of camping implements. Oh yeah, and here’s some money for something. Don’t tell Gil because he probably thinks he should be cut in for a piece of the action. Ass.

8/13/11

Par for the course, it’s more roundabout coaching/mentoring/meddling from Gil. Jeez dude, if you’re concerned about Kenny, talk to freakin’ Kenny. Kenny’s your damned student. Molly works for the club (or she’s part of the caddy scholarship program or whatever) who may or may not have shared personal stuff with Kenny. Do you respect any boundaries, Gil? (And maybe carry a little trial sized bottle of Scope around or something…your breath could knock a buzzard off a shit wagon.)

The final panel of the week is Mrs. Lark in a merlot stupor. That never gets old. (Is it just me or is she sporting a rather large rack there?)