This Week in Milford

April 25, 2019

The ’69 Miracle Mets And Stuffed Hippos, Guaranteed Recipes For Success.

Filed under: Just plain sad, Pissy faced minor character, premature baldness, softball — tdrewhardin @ 12:29 pm

042519

Gang, have you noticed the last 6-7 panels that we ARE at the ballpark and they DO have their uniforms on their person, oh, and Jamila took one for the team and brought her Muppet to instill new-found confidence in the team, but it’s still anybody’s guess if there’s a game, practice, team shootaround, walk-through, scrimmage, (naw, scratch that, already been tried once and got voted out at the Constitutional Convention) , pepper competition, hitting drill off the T-ball tee, Bar Mitzvah, Silent Auction to raise money for softballs and stuffed crocodiles (Plan B in case stuffed hippos go south) , or they just met at the ballpark because The Bucket got shut down by the Milford Health Department (too much salmonella in Bucket Burgers, I’m guessing) wearing their uniforms because all their school clothes are at the Milford Dry Cleaners.

 

Thissssss just sucks

No batting or no pitching

Exists to start the day

We’re left with hats

And stuffed pachyderms

The team is going down in flames

Nothing to say

Nothing to sayyyyyyyyyyyyy

 

Let us cling together as the games go by

O Mudlarks, Mudlarks

Finding hope in broken toys

The season evaporates our joy

Let us never lose the lessons they should learn.

 

Sorry, you whippersnappers, I know you got your music,and I like much of it, but musicians like Frank Zappa, David Bowie, and the group singing the song above, Queen, transcends ANY generation, in my book. Had to play them (RIP, Freddy Mercury, “Liar” just electrified this 7th-grader in his day) . Check out “A Day at the Races”. Vintage, Gang.

 

I’m sorry, Gang, but I’m having a hard time swallowing Jerry Grote telling Tom Seaver that he left his stuff on the subway because he bought the wrong stuffed animal at Toys ‘R’ Us. You brought a giraffe and the Chinese New Year called for a stuffed panda. And don’t forget to bring your koala in Game One against the Orioles. Mike Cuellar is lugging his stuffed wart hog.

Lesson 101 in remembering that the “Too-cool-for-school” merchandise normally gets trumped by something called practice, game preparation, team focus, y’know, winning formula for success, if ya wanna win. One of my favorite managers, Tony Larussa, said it best: “You can’t win if you don’t have a plan”.

And don’t get me wrong, being a Christian, I have let Jesus Christ be Lord of my life concerning athletics, it works for me anyway. If you serve a different God, okay, I NEVER judge, but again that’s what keeps me going in the world of athletics and has for several decades. But in Exodus, when the Israelites got a little lax when going to battle, God reminded them prayer was over, I will deliver your enemies to you but you can’t take a detour to The Bucket, praying 5 times a day to Gil’s house.

And speaking of “Too cool for school”, whadup wit dat? All these Stay in School messages everywhere, especially in schools, but yet John Brown is fomenting another rebellion from the grave. Learned his lessons from Harper’s Ferry and now applying them to the Mudlark Softball team. I know some Abolitionists will go to any extremes (Thaddeus Stevens comes to mind) but can’t they confine their partners-in-crime above the age of consent? I can’t see Brown fighting off the Federal troops at Harper’s Ferry with Winchesters and stuffed rhinos because he was too cool for the Confederate States of America.

“Did you know that Jefferson Davis combs his hair with a pitchfork? And he uses pig lard to shower himself???? Ooooooooo, groteee to the max!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

But I suppose if Camila has a piggy bank the size of a catcher’s Mitt, she and the team can explore the right combo until the good luck charms win you the hardware. Just ask the Mets. Really, I think a witch doctor somewhere in Queens just hated the Cubs and the rest was history. No Robmize, don’t put a hex on me. I have my stuffed Bob Knight here somewhere (ha) .

In the meantime, the girl in the center needs to spit her Red Man Mint Long Cut the other way. I wouldn’t want chaw stains on my Bob Knight doll.

 

Gang, I’m a little befuddled by this sign I saw at a trailer park the other day, naming one of the residents, Tenant of the Month.

“Arnold Snerdley has been named Tenant of the Month at Milford Executive Estates because he pays his rent on time, keeps his trailer immaculate, and keeps his panther on a leash. No stuffed anteaters were crammed in the storage shed in his yard like the 2 now-evicted residents, who chose to ignore trailer park decorum. The panel of judges have felt he more than deserves $25 off his next rent, $10 off his security deposit, front row parking at the trailer park office, and a gift certificate for a night out at The Olive Garden for a Spaghetti Plate marinaded w/ Milford Valley White Grape. Congratulations, Mr. Snerdley, and here’s hoping for anteater-free woodsheds for many years to come.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Named Resident Of The Month At Milford Chase Luxury Apartments!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“His certified check comes every 1st of the month.”

 

And please don’t tell me Richie Cunningham and Hot Date of the Month, who doesn’t have stuffed penguins in her closet at Milford Executive Estates, talk about Jerry Koosman winning Game Two because he struck out Boog Powell and Frank Robinson with a stuffed Mudlark, over French fries and Lowenbrau at Arnold’s. BTW, Richie, did you know you have an omelette on your head? Some of the waiters can be clumsy. Anyway, I have some Clearisil here in my backpack, oh, here it is, under my Gil Bear. Well, I gotta have something to snuggle up to at night, a la Mr. Howell with his teddy on Gilligan’s Island. He wasn’t going to snuggle with Skipper.

And I have seen freakier hands but I see NOW where Rod Serling developed his ideas for the Night Gallery episode, “A Fear of Spiders”.

 

Whhhheeerrrreee is Gil

His sabbatical just sucks an egg

And baseball’s toast

They won’t find home

No closer than Nome

They’ll search all over for a team

That hit the coast

Hit the cccooooaaaasssssttttttt

 

Let us cling together as the games slip by

O Mudlarks, Mudlarks

David Walter’s all they got

And his head is clearly shot

Let us never lose that lesson they don’t learn

 

And really, we could have survived with just panels today, skipping P3, since that was essentially a continuation of P2, I mean, we get the point, stuffed hippos earned Donn Clendonon the MVP award. Lord, how he had it stuffed it in his jock strap while hitting a clutch homer in Game Three but that’s another story. And if we don’t get caught in The Rapture first and the strip continues tomorrow, we’ll likely experience more gossip than ground balls, more stuffed animals than strikeouts.

And what is it with this rainbow shot in the background? We have freak hands already. Do we have to have freak rooms too????? We are at The Bucket, I presume? Or did The Bucket order a multi-colored strobe light to put by the window to attract customers??? Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds and Carry-Out, man, that’s the ticket. “Hey, I didn’t order purple fries. I’m going back to the cashier.”

I think it’s safe to say that if the wife doesn’t feel like cooking, she won’t tell her husband there’s a nice restaurant on the other end of town with a rainbow by the handicapped parking.

 

If ya went back to the taxidermist to change the mount on that 10-point buck in the den ya shot 5 years ago and want ta change it ta a black bear ya shot in yore back yard cuz he was rummagin’ in the garbage cans fer the B-B-Q rib bones ya threw out, all cuz yore NFL team is on a 5-game losing streak, ya might be a redneck.

 

“Losing a loved one always hurts and the expenses incurred adds to the problem.

Hi, this is Dr. Pearl on behalf of Milford Funeral Solutions. Recently, I lost my great-great-grandmother to skin cancer. Unfortunately, she had been out in the sun too long and it caught up with her at 171 years old. We received much prayers and calls but it didn’t alleviate the cruel reality that we would have to donate her body to science at Milford Community College if we couldn’t afford a proper burial.

The friends at Milford Funeral Solutions came up with a solution to address our financial crunch while still being able to stage the viewing. Their caskets that they procured from the Woods class at Milford Vocational Institute was steady and durable, a load off my mind, given they were throwaway 2 x 4’s or so they claimed. And embalming was a snap. Never underestimate the power of power tools from Harbor Freight, of which they have a partnership. Friends come from all over at Milford Funeral Solutions.

The funeral service was also a breeze AND affordable. Instead of footing the ever-rising costs of a minister, Milford Funeral Solutions utilized the FCA Chain Gang from Milford Penitentiary. They looked awkward with their orange uniforms and chains on their hand and feet while we were singing “Softly and Tenderly (Jesus is Calling) ” and while they giving the eulogy but when one of them laid hands on my great-great-grandmother for her last rites, it was all worth it. So was not charging double for an open casket.

Come see for yourself at Milford Funeral Solutions. Where, if you can’t get pallbearers because your family’s dead and gone, Milford Funeral Solutions will furnish them at no extra charge. Peace of mind when you’re heading to the grave site.

Milford Funeral Solutions. Where you are assured your loved one is in good hands and so is your wallet.”

Comment away, gang. I just can’t explain why they’re serving green and maroon Bucket Burgers lately. Better go talk to the manager. Pronto.

Teo torriate konomama iko…

I think Queen was saying, loosely, you understand, Gil, get your ass out of Dennis the Menace. Mr. Wilson has no interest in being an assistant. He has enough problems with Dennis without having to deal with Ruff stuffed as a doll and baseball seasons in dire need of X-Lax.

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6 Comments »

  1. Called it. Linda, scene 2 at the Bucket, with BF, who obviously don’t GAF what she’s talking about, as long as there is a mound of fries in front of him, bitching about the team silliness. I guess Molly Hatchet is the one calling the shots, so it don’t matter what Linda, Mimi, JB, or anyone has to say about hippo-girl either.

    Comment by franku2016 — April 25, 2019 @ 2:03 pm

  2. Franku, you DID call it. This plotline is really getting into the Wash, Rinse, Repeat cycle, isnt it? I never noticed it that way until you brought it up but you come through, as usual. Your trenchant and hard-hitting insights are ALWAYS welcome here, My Man.

    Gang, thanks for keeping Free Speech alive. Without it, tyranny rules and we become like our enemies. May God bless you all.

    Comment by tdrewhardin — April 26, 2019 @ 8:42 am

  3. Congrats to Neal Rubin for finally doing a girls’ team centered storyline — and devolving it to “girls like cute stuff.” This calls for an amendment to the Bechdel Test.

    Comment by jvwalt — April 26, 2019 @ 9:04 am

  4. @tdrewhardin Thanks! Glad to add insight and I also agree with jvwalt about finally them doing an exciting story concerning the girls teams but I gotta’ say this – if any of these girls tried this crap on the HS team my daughter played on, they would have been mocked right off the team – those girls were tougher than the boys when it came to talking shit about teammates, cocky opponents, clueless coaches, and overzealous parents. Pretty funny sometimes too.

    Comment by franku2016 — April 26, 2019 @ 9:49 am

  5. More questions:

    How many stuffed hippos does this girl have? Do the hippos all need hats too? How do these kids find time / have the money to eat at The Bucket so often?

    Comment by timbuys — April 26, 2019 @ 1:43 pm

  6. @timbuys – this is the same kid whine about being overwhelmed but she’s always goofing off at the bucket. Wish I was that overwhelmed

    Comment by franku2016 — April 26, 2019 @ 8:05 pm


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