This Week in Milford

January 1, 2019

I’ll Go Mow The Front Lawn, You Go Save Your Par

010119

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO!!!!!!!!

 

You auctioned off the football plot

And watched a lot of movies

Then let a Bozo joke with the team

 

Basketball is for the birds

There’s no such thing as Larry Bird

The Mudlark 5 are gonna get reamed

 

I’ll go call a time out

While you watch Dickie V

 

Where is my Norman Dale

Where is my Bobby Knight

Where is my Jim Valvano

Where have all the coaches gonnnnnnneeeeeeeeee

 

The TWIMers are in revolt. They’re mad as Hell and not gonna take anymore.

JUST when we thought Gil was going to come out of retirement and COACH after a short stint as a clothier at Milford Big and Tall (the suits made good advertising, Coach) , we find ourselves with deja vu all over again. When he exhorted the troops the other day with advice my nephew would have received when his high school freshman basketball team was in a similar situation and score, I was praying Gil had seen the errors of his ways and was gonna lead the troops into battle. Talk about Benedict Arnold.

 

 

Gang, with the help of Joe Szerletich, I just developed this idea from this video that will absolutely drive you nuts if you keep playing it. Next time  we go to war and we wish to brainwash the enemy into capitalism, I couldn’t think of a better way of erasing the mind with this throbbing, mindless spiel.

 

BADGERBADGERBADGERBADGERBADGERBADGERBADGERBADGER,

The badgers sinking in the ground as each one is called out then

MUSHROOM MUSHROOM

Comedy relief, evidently

SNAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKKKEEEEEEEEEE

evidently to break up the monotony or you’d be a Viet Cong guerilla by the end of the ditty.

Get the idea?

Okay

 

GILTHORPGILTHORPGILTHORPGILTHORPGILTHORPGILTHORPGILTHORPGILTHORP

MS. RIZK MS. RIZK

MARTYYYYYYYYYYYYYMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNN

 

It almost worked but the Mudlark gym ran out of holes and finally Dr. Pearl had to put her foot down. On the gym floor, of course.

 

And nobody can convince me that basketball action is composed of players returning to WHAT WE THINK is the locker room and even then when did a locker room need a neon sign to direct the players in the proper direction? Sure, If you visit Vegas, there’s plenty of glitter and glitz but people know where the machines are.

“Where’s the croupier? And the roulette wheel? I was on a roll and my wallet is stuffed with greens and I don’t mean collared greens.”

“Sir, you’re at a Burger King. You missed it by a light.”

That’s right, Thorpiverse, install the element of surprise and keep us guessing. Add some mystery and hope to God we don’t notice GIL AIN’T COACHING!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, Gil must have used another sick day but is that ROCKER???? Why would players be heading towards an Aerosmith concert in their gym shorts??? Is that SOCKER????? Somebody can’t spell SOCCER. Is that DOCKER?????? Don’t see Milford Outlet Mall around. Well, there’s only 23 other letters in the alphabet and it can’t be QUOCKER or OOCKER. Damn, I think they’re going to the LOCKER to change clothes. I’ve never known the Indiana Hoosiers or the Kentucky Wildcats to change into their DOCKERS in an AOCKER. Or EOCKER (that sounds like a Greek philosopher who debated with Socrotes at the Agora. Was he the one who issued him the hemlock?) .

And we’re distracted with this spelling bee to distract us from the real problem, GIL AIN’T COACHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What a POCKER.

 

5GAME5GAME5GAME5GAME5GAME5GAME5GAME5GAME

HOMER OFFICIALS HOMER OFFICIALS

STINKY PLOOOOOOTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Gil at Milford Comedy Club on Open Mike Night

“…panda bear from Laos??????????”

Dead quiet in the place. Not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse.

Gil reaches for his other pocket. Pulls out Plan B

“Hey, Ladies and Gents, I was in my office when one of the cameo coaches came in and said ‘Coach, I need more work than a film session watching Heather Burns boss around the offensive coordinator (“Run an end-around on 4th and 8? Who hired you?”) . I really haven’t had a bite in 3 days.’ Know what I did?”

People are chowin’ down on the onion rings, dipping them in the marinara sauce

“I bit him!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

They continue dipping, this time in the bar-b-q sauce

“Ladies and Germs, know what ya get when ya transfer this basketball plot to Camp Pendleton? Gomer’s pile!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“All The Things You Are”, sung by Chet Baker suddenly blares on the intercom.

Next time, Gil.

 

 

 

Your coaching’s in absentia

Your defense schemes demented

The gym just ran a flea market gig

 

I put on my seersucker

Whistled to the players

X and O’s I diagrammed big

 

I’ll go call the Give and Go

You order Domino’s

 

Where is my Norman Dale

Where is my Bobby Knight

Where is my senile Hank Iba

Where have all the coaches gonnnnnnnneeeeeee

 

I designed a Picket Fence

For an easy slam

And you didn’t even

Notice ittttttttttttt (Was a face job)

ttttttttttttttttttttttt  (Was a poster shot)

tttttttttttttttttttttttt (Set the picks right)

tttttttttttttttttttttttt (Crowd was mummified)

 

Because I don’t understand, when reading in a quiz online, that one of the answers for what an ox eats regularly was a tuna fish sandwich

 

“So the ox walks into the bistro and orders a tuna sandwich with Julien fries and a Choc-ola. He slurps the Choc-ola, scarfs the Julien fries and then yanks a can of out-dated Star-Kist Tuna out of his horn. When Charlie the Tuna the Waiter accosted him, he asked, “Arent you going to eat your sandwich? Why are you eating from that can?”

And the ox replied, “Sorry, Charlie, but only oxen eat the best-tasting tuna which they can drag from their horn or tail or butt or tetlock that gets to be Star-Kist. Did you ever consider feeding my sandwich to the goldfish in your aquarium? I’m sure they’re tired of Ensure Fish Formula.”

The audience just ordered another round of onion rings. This is gonna be a long night. Bad comedians usually require 4 rounds before he gets the hint but Gil might need the loading dock.

And good God there’s P2 and P3. Are we due for ANOTHER Keystone Kop adventure where we just go ’round and ’round for a while that will deliver another tepid inconclusive ending? Football did a wonderful job of that. We never knew what happened the rest of the season although for the consolation prize we learn that Tiki didn’t live in a shtetl after all. Man, if this were Snow White, the Prince would be kissing the evil stepmother in the end. Gang, I don’t know about you but if Mimi was lying In State on some catafalque in Gil’s back yard, I’m sure Gil wouldn’t call Marty over to awaken her with a kiss, even if Marty used Scope. Really, snakes devouring Breath-Mints just doesn’t stem the odor of stinky plots.

Now that we know that The Milford Star is the cross-town rival of the Milford Enquirer, we are introduced to 2 gentlemen we’ve never seen before and so what else is new. Us TWIMers are used to our mothers-in-law dropping in every other day so when we’re about to sit down to dinner, Mommy Dearest barges in with her Chinet Paper Plate.

I think it’s a pretty safe bet that Slightly-Overweight-And-Should-Moderately-Reduce-Twinkie-Intake-But-Blu-Blocker-Grandpa-Glasses-Is-So-Joe-Cool is the editor and Coach Shaw’s younger brother is a reporter. Why send the janitor out to do some fact-finding?

And I’d be curious too. But where the Hell are you going to look FIRST???? In the deep fryer cage at The Bucket??? Ernie’s parrot???? I’ll bet that parrot can squawk a lot of info if you feed him enough Ritz’s Bitz. Lassie?????

“Okay, Lassie, who did those billboards????”

“RUFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Outdoor Advertising?????? I thought they went out of business.”

“RUFF!!!!!!!!!!”

“I didn’t know they were part of the bailout involving General Motors.”

“RUFF!!!!!!!!!!!”

“And some kid with Glasses slipped a 100 to cover the Wal-Mart promo??????”

“RUFF!!!!!!!!!!!”

“200. My bad. I’m gettin’ hard of hearing.”

And the next 2 panels indicate that basketball ONCE AGAIN will take a back seat to Lou Grant. Can we at least bring back Mary Tyler Moore for comedy relief because we’re gonna need it.

Really, what are you gonna say to the State Trooper if he catches you up in the billboard, snooping for some clues????? But as Little Bro Shaw says, news is in the eye of the editor. We just wish those eyes were in, say, Mary Worth, and we could get on with BASKETBALL. Coach, you know, the one Naismith invented? You’re still taking the ball out of the peach basket.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Farmer’s Cooperative Disputes Research Findings Over Cattle Eating Star-Kist Tuna!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Co-op says grain-fed beef is healthier and meatier than tuna-fed beef.”

 

“Honnnnneyyyyyy, I’m hanging a mistletoe over you. You know what THAT means!!!!!!!”

Coach Shaw is reading an article in Milford Outdoors about Marty Moon. Priming himself for another upcoming episode in Milford Nature Area, Marty was taking target practice on some dead skunk’s butt at the Milford Conservation Club before Coach Shaw was forced to look up.

If it means he can find out if they at least cleaned out the skunk’s innards before taping a bulls-eye on his derriere, he will gladly pucker up.

SMACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pretty satisfied himself, he learns that Marty wasn’t legally registered with that paintball gun and must buy a temporary permit at the Club’s business office.

But then there’s Round 2. And it’s not a puny mistletoe flagellating over him. It’s one of the logs in the log rack that was modeled after a Brunswick T Zone Caribbean Blue Bowling Ball. She has to use an engine hoist to hang the log over his head but whatever works.

Coach Shaw, annoyed at his inability to find out if the park ranger would issue fines, looks around to see where the pulley noise is coming  from.

Then he looked up.

A gigantic pin oak log is barely 3 inches from his head.

“Darlin’, what in the name of cameo coaches are you doing?”

“Honey, I lifted the log over your wittle head to symbolize I wanted a wittle more in our relationship. Much more, my wittle wee-wee boy.”

Ignoring the petulant baby talk,

“Dear, do you have to act like a lumberjack to get a kiss? I don’t feel like smooching with the Brawny guy.”

“Actually, this Brawny girl wants more than a kiss. I want us to come to beddie-weddie so the Brawny Girl can cut some more logs and make some paper towels. Isn’t that FUN???????”

“I’d rather squeeze the Charmin and get my ass chewed out by Mr. Whipple.”

Coach Shaw is fending off the baby talk because his train of thought is in abeyance. He wonders if Marty will also have to buy deer tags.

“Look, can’t it wait? Marty is hanging on a cliff and my heart is racing to see if he has to spend a night in jail. Paintball-splashing without a doe permit is pretty serious stuff.”

“This doe is wanting her 8-point buck to stick one of his points into the doe’s canyon.” She menacingly points the pin oak log at him to literally home the point. The shoe is on the other foot. “Now put down the wittle maga-zeen-ee and wet’s go to bed so the Big Bad Wolf can corrupt his wittle Bambi.”

“I’d rather huff and puff and BLOWABUBBABUBBLEBUBBABUBBLEBUBBABUBBLE Bambi’s house down. Darling, Peaches is trying to get Marty’s dead to the house because he could land in the Federal Pen. Paintball-splashing a chipmunk within 50 feet of the Park Ranger’s built-in swimming pool is pretty serious stuff!!!!!!!!!!!”

“All righty then.” Coach Shaw is suspicious of the change of pitch. Mrs. Shaw pitches the pin oak in the fire. Out of the andirons, she produces a gun. “You force me to desperate measures.”

Coach Shaw is seeing his life before his eyes in Technicolor. He never thought he’d see the day when Dirty Harriet would stick a Magnumnin his crotch or his chest to get sex.

“This is a paintball gun, the most potent weapon to ruin your camouflage outfit. It can splotch paint all over that Milford Gun Club shirt. If I hit it, it will take Borax and the rest of the 11,000 miles to clean the damn thing. Then you have to dry-clean it which is expensive THEN you have to leave it on the clothesline for a week. Your shirt next to your pajamas, the ones with Tom and Jerry on them? And your nightshirt with Droopy on the front? What will your buddies think?”

She is hitting below the belt now. Coach Shaw is panicking. “Now, in all this arguing, I kinda lost count. Was it 5? Or was it 6? Do you feel lucky, Honey?”

Coach Shaw is staring straight down the barrel and thinking. The magazine article or sex with his #2 pencil? The magazine sits in limbo on the coffee table by the M lamp (MTV or Mudlarks, either one.) .

“Well, do you?”

 

“I didn’t want to find out. Some things are just better left investigated by Dirty Harry and Joe Friday. Did you ever see Harry with a pink splotch on his Le Tigre jacket? Therefore, I went to Milford Men’s Clinic pronto because logs are for fires, not subtle hints that someone’s hot flashes are raging hotter than the hearth at Gil’s Christmas party. A mistletoe was simply not going to stem the conflagration in Milford National Forest. I had to fight fire with fire. Now, I’m a French Revolution about to descend on the aristocracy. King Louis XIV never knew what hit him. And Mrs. Louis XIV is having the time of her life, experiencing the most ethereal of sexual pleasures while we both watch the Palace of Versailles burn to the ground.

If you’d like to experience Bastille Day for yourself, come to Milford Men’s Clinic today. Renew the fires in your marriage and keep your own Fruit of the Looms free of orange splotches. Watching the Bay of Pigs invasion with a pair of stainless Hanes is what Milford Men’s Clinic is all about.

Gang, go to it. If you see two people about 100 feet in the air with a magnifying glass, it’s just me and Encyclopedia Brown gathering evidence at the scene of the crime.

 

The players shop for Dockers

Cuz there’s no keys for lockers

You took them on your 2nd honeymoon

 

Your playbook’s really empty

Full of Target liquor ads

No wonder why you hear it from Moon

 

I’ll jump the officials

You go hunt with Shawwwwwwww

 

Where is my Red and his cigar

Where is my Adolph Rupp

Where is ol’ 4 corners, Dean Smith

Where have all the coaches gone

WHERE HAVE ALL THE COACHES GONNNNNEEEEEEEEEE

Attaboy

Way to go

Hit ’em high

Hit ’em low…….

 

“…polar bear from Iceland????”

 

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4 Comments »

  1. For some reason, I thought the Song Of The Post was going to be “Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo (Heartbreaker)” by The Rolling Stones, and not “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?” by Paula Cole. I should have known better, though. The Stones’ doo doo doo doo doos aren’t at the beginning, and there just aren’t enough doo doo doo doo doos transcribed.
    Gil actually coaching? What kind of thinly disguised anarchic thought is that? Gil’s supposed to wander the sidelines in a senile haze, tolerated only because his minders from the Milford Asylum For The Athletically Deluded will be hauling him back following this latest escape.

    Comment by Prof. Anthrax — January 1, 2019 @ 2:50 pm

  2. Please tell me that’s Marty Moon’s younger brother who is very aware of the many ways that Marty’s fellow presence in the local media has impacted his career even though he works harder, drinks less and looks better. He is a stringer at the Milford Star while Marty rakes in a mid five figure salary (with benefits) arguing on the radio with Milford idiots and weirdos during the afternoon drivetime slot.

    Will this be his one chance to do what Marty could not? TAKE DOWN GIL THORP!

    Comment by timbuys — January 1, 2019 @ 7:29 pm

  3. When “Heartbreaker” was a hit song, with the refrain “Heartbreaker, with your forty-four” my buddy at the time insisted they were saying “Heartbreaker, with your bowling ball.”

    Comment by Moon Mullins — January 2, 2019 @ 2:57 pm

  4. SUPER COMMENTS, GANG!!!!!!!!!!!! Professor Anthrax, you make a good point which is why I debated putting that song in since I knew it could create confusion with The Rolling Stones’ Doo Doo Doo’s. And don’t feel stupid, I’ve made similar mistakes and it’s easy to get mixed up on that one. And I LMAO at your Arkham observatiojn. Keep ’em coming.

    Tim, I’ll go with Marty Moon’s younger brother over my own take because it’s just as good if not better. I liked your Apollo Creed mantra(“You’re goin’ down!!!!!!!!!”). You’re on top as always.

    Moon Mullins, excellent observation and points out one of Mick’s foibles, i.e., occasional problems with enunciation. I have LOVED my Stones forever but they’re not without their peccadillos(ha). I always look forward to your acumen on my posts and on all other posts.

    Keep Free Speech going, gang.

    Comment by tdrewhardin — January 6, 2019 @ 3:54 pm


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