This Week in Milford

April 16, 2019

Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better, Including Hat-Making And Pepper.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 9:04 am

 

 

 

 

Everybody wants to rule the world. Yes, that’s the unofficial theme for today’s post after a Lady Mudlark suggested dropping out of school and plying their wares for the good of Mankind. Why stop at blowing off scrimmage? Why not just declare outright truancy and just skip school and sell hats at a roadside stand somewhere on the outskirts of Milford along with the tomatoes, squash, New Thayer County melons, jowl bacon in a jar, grape jelly in a jar big enough to fit Gil’s hair, Milford Valley Homemade Peanut Butter, and the coup-de-grace, that painting of those dogs playing poker, cigars and all. Wearing one of Jocelynn’s hats, no doubt.

Who knows? They’ll make enough money to attend Milford Community College, where they can talk about blowing off that History 203 exam(essay exam, naturally), flunk out and sell some more hats. Well, Milford and vicinity will be more stylish, if nothing else.

So to kick it off, you whippersnappers, Joe Walsh has been kind enough to step in and rough up the situation. The album’s a classic, “There Goes The Neighborhood”, the album cover reflecting the current mood. Have at it, Joe

 

So you made a wish

On this falling plot

That’s what you got

 

Whoa, whoa

And here it is

Like it or not

 

And the truth is

Nobody cares

Everybody’s gone

 

It’s so useless

Playing the game

Heaven knows they’re lost

 

And if it takes until the story runs dry

’til the story runs dry

If it takes until the golf season comes to see why

 

Joe Walsh killer guitar riff, we proceed

 

If ya got yore ass fired from yore 3rd shift premium pay 9.13/hour job at the Milford Foundry cuz you wuz caught in the bathroom stall makin’ ball caps with fish or deer designs (“Man, Check out that bass on Kaz’s head.”) on ’em on the sly, cuttin’ inta yore productivity on the assembly line, ya might be a redneck.

 

YEEEEESSSSSSSSS, I GET BY!!!!!!!!!!!!! WITHA LITTLE HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!! FROM!!!! MY!!!!!!! FRIENDS!!!!!!!!!!!

“Gil, you damn near knocked over our lamp we got on our wedding day!!!!!”

“Sorry, Mimi, everybody down at the Milford Country Club says I sound exactly like Joe Cocker. They said I have all kinds of hidden talents.”

“Well, the next time your hidden talent knocks over the aquarium, your cleaning it up and putting the bluegill back in the tank.”

“BTW, Mimi, you have any VO5 in the cabinet. I was gonna spray my hair until it fizzes out, then comb it every which way, then head to the sauna at the club for 2 hours. I’m a dead ringer for Cocker.”

“Gil, you’ll probably be just plain dead if anybody sees you.”

“Aw, Mimi, I can do an epileptic seizure like Cocker with the best of them. Don’t rain on my parade. Please.”

 

And as Franku has alluded to or just flat out expressed, as much as I appreciate Show and Tell in P1, Thorpiverse is ONCE AGAIN sending us off on another tangent, another Black Hole for which it’s no fun to watch Santa and his reindeer struggle to get back out of (“Rudolph!!!!!! We’ve been sucked in before!!!!!!!!!!!! Can’t you give your nose any more Lumens?????!!!!!!??????”) . Yeah, on Donner, on Blitzen, now Dasher, now Prancer, fer sure. And we could stretch this with the Rosey-Greer-does-needlepoint outlook but, remember, he didn’t do needlepoint on 1st and 10 on Sunday. Nope, didn’t give the opposing quarterback any crochet needles after he sacked his ass for 17 yards that I’m aware of.

“Hey, Deac, your testicles are showing through your jock strap. Want me to sew it up for ya?”

“Greer!!!!!!!!!! I’m in the middle of shootin’ a Dairy Queen commercial!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Cut, cut. Now, Deac, I want you to mention the Chili Fries after you mention going to a bakery…”

What a perfect activity after a win. A quilting bee. For Show and Tell

“Oh look, boys and girls, Babe knitted an afghan with The Iron Horse in the pattern. And he belted 714 home runs today. I think he deserves a Good Job button, don’t you?”

 

 

“You never even called me by my nammmmmeeee.

Well, a coupla friends of mine, Coach Shaw and Steven Goodman, wrote that song and told me that that was the Perfect Country Sing.

I wrote back to both of them and told them it was NOT the Perfect Country Song because it didnt say anything at all about Mama or Trains or Rain or Prison or Pick-up Trucks or Gettin’ Drunk.

They went over to The Bucket where they’re still tryin’ to get their liquor license and let that sink in and piss ’em off and they got ta writin’ like an elephant on a rampage. Finally, after several Bucket Daiquiri Shakes, they sent me back the revised version. I read over it and said, damn, Bucket Daiquiri Shakes ain’t Falls City and the kids may still have to go to Mom’s PTA meetings to drink any but they had  come up with THE PERFECT COUNTRY SONG. And it goes like this

I was drunk at The Bucket

The day my mom got out of prison

And I went to pick her in the rain

But before I could get to Milford Amtrak

In my pick-up truck

She got ran over by a dammed ol’ trainnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Rizk Gets 3 Standing O’s At Milford Girls-a-Go-Go Club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“She sounds like Coe and even has his hair!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Damn, these strained negations

Feeling 2 foot smalllllll

God, this story crashes

Hidden talent for softballllll??????

 

Guess they made their mind up

Whoa, whoa

Such a shame to wind up

 

In the Valley cellar

Selling chocalate chip

Mired in endless talents

On a sinking ship

 

But I guess they made their mind up

 

 

What a perfect way to lead into my next gripe. The ladies in P2 are getting ridiculous about this. They won a softball game that had its moments, suddenly we’re comparing notes on who can do what when they’re NOT playing softball. Oh, here’s a radical talent. You might wanna hold onto your girlfriend on this one

“Damn, she can CATCH THE BALL!!!!!!!!! Pop-ups in the infield wont be an issue with her at shortstop.”

“She was so quiet. I would have never thought.”

Otherwise, after-game rituals are really not the time to beat your chest and say you can whup anybody’s butt in Chinese checkers. I really wouldn’t mention you can play “Who Are You” by The Who on the Jew’s harp with your harelip. Oh, that oughta be a great duet with you and Keith Moon. A Platinum Album, no question.

“My dog’s better than your dog,

My dog’s better than yours

My dog’s better

Cuz he’s got the Trig table memorized

My dog’s better than yours”

Probably got rewarded with Ken-L Ration after memorizing Sin, then Cosine, etc.

 

Ever’ goddang one of those gloves was a-waggin’

Under the old horseshoe

Tonight, the players chose a leader

Gave Mimi Thorp the screws

 

There were skaters and knitters

And talkers and runners

They had too much to do

They ran off from school

And joined the Legion

Talented in shooting in their Blues

 

I think you get my message for P3 and therefore I will leave you to admire the North by Northwest shot which graces the strip quite frequently. We know one thing. Another one of Linda’s hidden talents is using Colgate.

Shout-out to Ashley Leonard of Louisville, Kentucky. She got approved for her Disability the other day and I couldn’t be happier. You need to be taken care of, Ashley. She is VERY talented at knitting and this BY NO MEANS a hidden talent. She does a lot of intricate patterns, many of your favorite school (UK, UCLA, Florida State, Duke, IU, etc.) and she did one of the US Navy insignia. And I was impressed. Ashley refuses to stop living, getting out and about. Treat her with respect. And get a quilt from her. Her rates are reasonable, trust me.

At the Milford Fun Center Arcade

“Good Lord, Kaz, I didn’t know you could play Pac-Man. You’ve eaten up 1,435 goblins and are at the 23rd level-”

“Gentlemen, we’re closing. Wrap it up.”

“Ah, jeez, one more quarter, puh-leeezze.”

 

“Ya know, some people will stoop to anything to get a license when they need to stick to Burgers and Fries. Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse.

Mr. Absentee Owner of The Bucket has been slingin’ some mud lately and I don’t mean in the stuff you sling at room temperature in the Bucket Moose Tracks Shake. He’s been saying we use threats of intimidation and bullying, to the point of involving the Mafia. If you believe him, I have a Choc-Ola farm over near Oakwood to sell ya cheap. Just pluck a bottle off the tree. What’s more, I don’t speak Italian.

He’s mad because we have the finest selection. of wines and whiskeys with a rotunda at the front of the store with all the Budweiser you’ll ever need. A fountain of paradise. You can lick from the faucet and grab you a case to purchase. Yeah, Mr. AO, try to install THAT by the soda jerk. Don’t want my Bud mixed in with with any hot fudge sundae, thank you very much.

And he can flap his jaws about all these children’s drinks but if I want creme de menthe in a pacifier, I’ll head to Milford Day Care and get one from Keri from her lunchbox. When you want to grow up and smell the Stella Artois, it’s waitin’ on ya by Mike-Sell’s Green Onion Chips. And BTW, if you buy Stella by the pound, ALL Cheetos are BOGO’s, My Friend. Ummmmm, um, Stella and 2 bags of Jalapeno Cheese Curls. With Salsita Dip. It’s like sending Mr. AO in a trunk and letting Sonny Corleone decide where to go when he sneaks by the forest ranger station at the National Forest.

Oops, now don’t get no ideas. I just happen to remember Mr. AO’s horse when the former was in bed. Some things bring back bad memories. But there’s no horse’s heads on all the Martini & Rossi Wines, from Dark Cherry to my favorite, Peach Mango Lite. Hey, if I can enjoy The Good Life and still look like Jack LaLanne, can ya blame me?

But don’t take my word for it or Mr. AO’s either. Come down and see that once you open the door to check out our selection and prices, the car will remain intact. And if you want Daiquiri Pudding Pops in your Happy Meal, you know where The Bucket is located. Suck on your lollipop, go ahead.

Then come down and taste some real drinking, straight from El Dorado. You’ll be glad you did.

 

Do ‘er to ‘er, Gang. I’m gonna go show my hidden talent to the baseball team, singing “The National Anthem” in Bantu. God, do you realize how long it took to memorize Dative Case?

 

SHE CAME IN THROUGH THE BATHROOM WINDOW

“Gil!!!!!!!!! Come to bed!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Living a life of illusion…

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3 Comments »

  1. One pep talk. One silly hat. One geek that goes to comic book conventions. One skater. One volleyball player. No one serious enough to really care about softball except for that shrew-like girl who is overburdened with life. No wonder this crew acts like their shit don’t stink.

    Comment by franku2016 — April 16, 2019 @ 9:17 am

  2. …and a team full of as much crap as of hidden talents….

    Comment by franku2016 — April 16, 2019 @ 2:10 pm

  3. Nice David Allan Coe drop there, tdrew.

    Comment by teenchy — April 17, 2019 @ 8:33 am


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