This Week in Milford

May 29, 2018

Get Busy Playin’ Or Get Busy Dyin’, Barry.

052918

Hoo boy. When spoiled brat Bader doesn’t get his way and threatens to take his attitude and go home, as if that were threatening ANYONE, does he do an about-face after getting blind-sided by some angel (or the Derby jerk, you decide) on the road to Damascus and repent and consequently bow 5 times to Mecca every day, reciting “There’s no ‘I’ in the word ‘team'” from the Koran? Do you really want me to answer that?

He is in rare form today as he just about tells the team that he’s The Franchise and that he is holding out for more money and that he’s worth more than Coach Kaz, Coach Thorp, and Luhm’s time-and-a-half on the weekend when Luhm is pulling that bedraggled chain link fence to smooth down the baseball diamond. And I hate to bring up Jerry Pulver again, the KING of attitudes (trust me on that one) but at least he had the game to back up his immaturity. Bader’s decent but really not in a position to be a poster child for Preparation H for the month of February as he’s displaying in P1.

And apparently out of fear from Thorpiverse that we might, out of disgust for the development of ANOTHER bad plot a-brewin, switch over to Buzz Sawyer and Roscoe Sweeney (“Thank God Marty isn’t here to second-guess Buzz’s investigations at the strip joint”), Thorpiverse inserts a lame sidebar a/k/a HOR-hay pulling a Moose on us and trying his hand at pitching. Did HOR-hay go the way of Robert Johnson and sell his soul for an effective change-up or slider? Only the witnesses at the Milford/Oakwood crossroads know the answer to that one. Not that we’re pressing the issue, you understand.

Gang, I honestly tried. My dad has always taught me to never be predictable when doing comedy. He was right. As a part-time actor, he knows a thing or two about keeping the act FRESH.

Still, with that in mind, this was hard to pass up and the lyrics just wrote themselves as you’ll soon see. And because I truly love my dad and therefore really dig his reverence for Warren Zevon, it was a no-brainer. God, the miles we have gone listening to “Werewolves of London” going all the way back to my teenage years. And as a bonus, you whippersnappers, I’ll betcha didn’t know that Mick Fleetwood was on drums and John McVie was on bass (yes, Fleetwood Mac) accompanying Mr. Zevon. Small world, eh? Anyway, another offering from Zevon, sung to “Boom Boom Mancini”, sit back and enjoy:

From Milford, God knows where, Boom Boom Bader was born

A heavyweight pretender, like father, like son

They acted like buttholes to everyone they met

And they stuck Father Bader down in Cell Number One

So hurry to the ballpark, hurry right away

Boom Boom the Wienie’s fighting Coach Thorp today

Hurry to the ballpark, hustle on your way

Boom Boom the Wienie’s sittin’ flat on his “A”

When Coach Kaz gave Boom Boom a royal tongue-lashing

Boom Boom pouted and moped, he was thorny as a rose

Boom Boom does have the speed and the fielding prowess

But if he can’t take the punches, he should stay in street clothes

So hurry to the ballpark, hurry don’t be late

Boom Boom the Wienie’s gonna up and seal his fate

Hurry to the ballpark, hurry don’t delay

Boom Boom the Wienie’s gettin’ a benching today

When he lost his position cuz he’s a long-standing prick

Never should have fought him, Derby dude was a dick

They made hypocrite judgments after the fact

But the name of his game is be a jerk and jerk back

So hurry to the ballpark, hurry if you can

Boom Boom the Wienie’s sittin’ down with no plan

Hurry to the ballpark, hurry don’t be late

Boom Boom the Wienie’s gettin’ singed by his teammates

Loved your music, too. Warren. Miss ya.

If ya got nailed by the home plate umpire for “illegal pitch” because your change-up, curve, and slider went higher than 12 feet but the batter crushed yore slider for a home run anyway because the umpire had his left hand out in a fist, signaling “delayed dead ball”, ya might be a redneck.

Then there’s the Rogues Gallery again. I know, I know, I hear you Baders out there saying “T. Drew”, don’t beat a joke in the ground, you’ve already mentioned that one”. I’m glad SOMEONE cares to read my comments on the Comment section, nice to know that SOMEONE besides my mother reads what I have to say but P2 just REEKS of Mr. Freeze/Egghead. Both were bald, right? Just pick out the one you want and go with the flow. And at least I’m switching gears and jumping from Dick Tracy’s frying pan to Batman’s oven. Anyway, he and The Riddler are giving Bader an earful, pointing out that when Batman’s criminals are not terrorizing Gotham City, or Milford at rush hour, they DO take one for the team. Didn’t Egghead get down and dirty and soil his uniform for the winning run? You can look it up, Yogi.

“So much for launch angles. It looks like Gil’s trying to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Moose, next time, hit the batting cages at Milford Bat ‘n’ Putt and don’t use the machine spitting out plastic balls at 40MPH. And, Coach, loosely speaking, batting tees are for T-Ball, not floppy-haired teenagers who tried their hand at quarterback. And we’ll be right back after this commercial break, with the score, Oakwood 8, Milford 2, you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

Off the mike

“He’s back!!!!!!! He’s back!!!!!!!! Pay up!!!!! Told you he couldn’t bite the bullet on Coach T!!!!!!!”

“Those Anger Management classes at Milford Community College didn’t do diddly. Talk about a silk purse from a donkey’s ear.”

“Daddy, Mommy said you need an erector set. But I already have one in my toy box. You gave it to me for Christmas, remember? Don’t you remember when I made WDIG Station out of it? The doggie chewed up Studio 3 but you can have the rest of my Lego blocks.”

Spits out his Evian while teaching Keri the fine art of putting at Milford GC, at a random spot on the green at hole #5, par 4, dog leg left.

“Well, Honey, Mommy probably meant to say something else. But you’ll learn all about it in Health Sciences class this Fall at Milford Elementary.”

“WOW!!!!!! You mean they have erector sets in Health class????? I want to learn how smoking hurts your body!!!!! I saw a Lego guy puffing from a cigarette. The teacher pumped smoke into his chest. It burned about 40 Lego blocks. There was a great big hole in his body. Some of the naughty boys aimed their paper airplanes at it. A couple of boys got sent down to the principal for shooting spit wads at it.”

Gil, trying to recover, pulls out his Copenhagen Long Cut Wintergreen from his back pants pocket

“Well, blub, blub, I won’t have that problem, no Holy Chest from this snuff I’m putting in my mouth. Maybe from my incisors but I brush with Colgate with Fluoride twice a day.”

Keri, oblivious to the chaw Daddy is cramming in his gums

“I want to build Mommy’s body and learn ALL ABOUT how bad smoking is for you. But, Daddy, I have a problem. The doggie ate a lot of the pieces and I don’t know if I have enough Lego blocks to fill out Mommy’s boobs.”

Choking on his Copenhagen, his gums a black-chartreuse mix

“Keri, I think you’ll learn all you need to know about smoking this year and if you don’t have enough Lego blocks, I can special-order them. I kept the 800 number for lost toy parts. I’ll call this evening and the FedEx truck should swing by the house in a couple of days.”

“Thanks, Daddy, maybe you can special-order an erector set yourself. HEY!!!!!!! I GOT IT!!!!!!!!! You can make a horse!!!!!!! I always hear you saying that Marty’s a horse’s ass. I still have some blue squares, the dog didn’t eat those.”

“Blib, Blob, Bloopy, Oopy-Doopy-Doopy, GREAT SHOT, Keri!!!!!!!!! You didn’t need a putter’s aid that time. Atta way to line up the ball. Drive for show, putt for dough. WAY TO GO!!!!!!!!”

“I knew I had to confront my Erectile Dysfunction problems when Keri went behind my back and bought another erector set. It was bad enough that she used Mimi’s credit card but a yellow horse with a blue butt, some still with teeth marks, just didn’t look good on the coffee table next to the lava lamp and the ’63 Mudlark yearbook. I tried explaining to my poker buddies when we meet on Tuesday that it was an art project at school but I was dead meat when one of my buddies told me that his daughter was in the same art class and they were doing Henri Matisse using only Crayolas. I was trapped.

Fortunately, the Milford Men’s Clinic helped me avoid any more embarrassing conversations. They have treatment programs that work. I gambled on 4th-and-1 with my Visa Gold and not only got the 1st down, I ran in the end zone with the winning TD!!!!!!!!! I spiked the ball and did the Ickey Shuffle in celebration and in bed!!!!!!!!!!! Mimi enjoyed every minute of  my slam-dunking the goal post!!!!!!!!!!

Now I can show Keri how to drop the ball when she shanks one in Milford Nature Center and I am more confident under the sheets. 2 in, 3 out is confined to the golf course, I am happy to say. As a bonus, I sent that horse to Marty as a token of my welcoming him back. He’ll figure out the color scheme. At Milford Men’s Clinic, it’s all black and white, no chewed-over blue Lego blocks to cover your you-know-what. Mine is covered nicely and I have peace of mind. Come check ’em out yourself. You’ll be glad you did.”

Finally, to regurgitate the question, but in a different way, what measures does Bader pursue to solve the obvious problem, i. e., he’s a self-centered lout growing up to be just like his dad, sans prison outfit? Look in the mirror and decide he’s had enough? He will suddenly realize, through an epiphany, that there’s 8 other guys on the ball field, more in the dugout? Boy, the money I could make selling property in Milford Valley if anyone truly believes that one.

No, Bader, to repair a jerky image cuts the Gordian knot and bares his soul to Daffy at the Milford Enquirer. Let her pour ketchup on her cheese fries before you spill your guts, BB.

I mean, come on, does he REALLY think he’s going to get anywhere selling his rights for a story to keep his teammates from laughing at him? I personally wouldn’t throw a match at the gasoline tank and find out. But it’s his funeral. If he thinks he can repair his image by explaining why he’s a jerk in the column next to Gil and Mimi being taken up in a UFO for one night rather than the annual trip to Mudlark Lake Resort or Coach Kaz explaining how Vitamin B1 enhanced chest hair growth or longer sideburns, more power to him. Oh, you know you saw this one coming

Today’s Headline from the Milford Enquirer

“I WASN’T A TEAM PLAYER BECAUSE I WASN’T POTTY-TRAINED UNTIL I WAS EIGHT YEARS OLD!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Daddy Bader was out of town on business trips many times to promote the new line of ice boxes.”

Gang, I forgot to mention yesterday to please thank a Veteran. Personally, I take 5 minutes out of my day to thank 1 Veteran for his services to our country but  I understand everybody’s different. The point is DO SOMETHING to let our Veterans know they’re appreciated. If EVERYBODY would do SOMETHING, the world would be that much better. And our  Veterans would be taken care of, in the bargain.

Gang, it’s your turn. Bonus points if you can sock it to Bader but, hey, we’re not picky around here.

 

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6 Comments »

  1. Hate to keep bringing up the real world here, but In The Real World, a student as emotionally unstable as Barry would get extra attention from his counselor and a school psychologist — especially after his dad goes to the slammer and his mom is scrambling to make ends meet.

    Not in Milford. Barry gets to roam free and accumulate more and more grudges. His only outlet is… the kid reporter? Really????

    (And if Ms. Rizk had any scruples, she’d put the kibosh on Dafne’s “scoop” and get Barry the help he needs.)

    Comment by John S. Walters — May 29, 2018 @ 6:57 am

  2. Well there comes a time in every talented but egotistical athlete’s life when he realizes his team would rather lose without him than win with him, aka the Terrell Owens complex… Nice to see that Barry Bader insists on piling on the bad decisions by agreeing to the interview…

    Comment by hitorque — May 29, 2018 @ 8:09 am

  3. @John S. Walters: Or God forbid Gilberto & Kaz do their fucking jobs for once in their lives and try to find out why one of their best players can’t get his head straight…

    I mean come the fuck on — Gilberto & Kaz have bent and broken the laws of God, man, and basic humanity on multiple occasions just to get to the bottom of what’s troubling one of their players. But clearly they hate Barry so they’re content to let him rot on the path to self-destruction…

    Comment by hitorque — May 29, 2018 @ 8:14 am

  4. Hey look! On the left side of panel 2! It’s everyone’s pal, Thumbhead!

    Comment by Moon Mullins — May 29, 2018 @ 2:31 pm

  5. Gang, another great day for comments. You really laid Barry, Gil, etc., flat on the ground. I would like to thank timbuys for the video as it really added to another successful post. I felt really well about this one and you people had EVERY bit to do with that. Now let’s help timbuys lay Gil flat again today. You guys rock.

    Comment by tdrewhardin — May 30, 2018 @ 4:20 am

  6. […] up To get him off the field He got a little voice Goin’ yap, yap, yap All his teammates Are sick of his crap His little free library Has gotta be the best He can’t give things any rest Well, I […]

    Pingback by Short Bader | This Week in Milford — June 7, 2018 @ 5:53 am


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