This Week in Milford

September 10, 2020

Have You Stopped Beating Your Wife, Coach?

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 9:34 am

“Coach, Just about every fan in the Milford section and the opponent’s fans across the field in their own stands thought that not playing Will Thayer in favor of Joe Senior was about as shit-headed of a move as you’ve implemented the last 60 years. They said, to heck with loyalty to people who have stomached your BS on the practice field and your drinking binges at the MCC Annual Dart Tournament off the field, you put your best 11 out there on the gridiron or go apply as a line cook at The Diner. And to tell Mouth That Runs Around The Track A Mile A Minute that he earns his stripes around here. A lot of people, including Mr. Holiday Inn Towel Crammed Up His Ass, have said he’s all blow and no show. That he needs to get that Nick’s Canadian Bacon Pizza out of his mouth and hit his target and stop talking trash and actually show whatt he can do but he can’t do it when Mr. Goody Two Shoes is the projected QB and ties his shoelaces and backs up his talk which he couldn’t do last year because Joe Senior was hogging the spotlight and not giving any to Mr. Goody Two Shoes and DEFINITELY not Mr. Mouth and not even you, Coach, the latter of which I understand will earn a trip on the bench for Insubordination-Conflict with Coach Over Misunderstood Objectives. But what do you think?”

If you took Logic, you had to remember Begging the Question. The fallacy arises in assuming the conclusion in one of the premises. If I say that worthless piece of horsemeat I ate at lunch with flies everywhere was a Bucket Burger and I go on to conclude that Bucket Burgers are not up to snuff, well, I think you grasp the general concept.

And that is pretty much the interview with a one Marty Moon. Personally, I think the man sleeps in his bed with snakes when he’s not sleeping with Peaches but his questioning, though with dubious intentions, have been reasonably valid over the years.

But you talk about a loaded shotgun today.

“Coach, don’t you think your shit-for-brains strategy to use Will as a tight end when he couldn’t catch the Holiday Inn towel if Mr. Towelbutt was bending over or Jumpy Jaws as a left tackle when he’d pee in his jock strap trying to block the 400-pound defensive end was just plain bad football that needed to be buried in Mimi’s Garden?”

“Watch your language, Moon. My kids are running around the track.”

And we weren’t apprised of any QB controversy because we were too pre-occupied with the Running Back Controversy, only incited by an outside party, i.e., Chet Ballard, who was mercilessly plugging his stepson, Charlie Roh, at the expense of American Tourister-laden Chance Macy. Gang, are you really ready for another supernumerary rivalry that will bog down the football season, even if really, Will brings it to the table and Jumpy Jaws brings it on himself, I being guilty of my own begging the question? Didn’t think so.

I don’t even want to THINK of the juvenile possibilities

Jumpy Jaws pours some alum in Dudley Dooright’s Gatorade and The Dudster can’t call the plays because he has no voice. Then Jumpy Jaws hands the ball to Charlie Roh for a 1-yard plunge and Chet Ballard puts his arm around The Jumpster after the game and asks “Where the Hell you been all season?” Hey, so what if all he had to do is stick a Holiday Inn towel up Charlie’s rear e-, I mean, hand the ball on a silver platter to Mr. Roh? And we can engineer Chet’s comeback. Like, for example, do community service, say, 80 hours mulching Dr. Pearl’s backyard. And send Dudley Dooright off to Canada where he can be a Mountie. Hugh McLennan, the noted Canadian author, might not like the Canada stereotype but Gil has been stereotyped a venerable leader for 60 years. One problem at a time.

Or we can tweak this one. Instead of alum, Jumpy Jaws can stick some Ex-Lax in Dudley Dooright’s pizza when the latter is busy paying the school cafeteria lady. Coach Thorp, tired of his trips to the stadium toilet seats, puts in Jumpy Jaws who proceeds to throw a pick-six, the fans yelling “Bad strategy, Thorp!!!!!!!!!!!!!” By then, Charlie Roh fetches some Pepto-Bismol out of his gym bag and pours some in a water bottle for Dudley Doo to suck out of. Ol’ Dudley has his stomach lined up with the stars, he throws 7 TD passes for a 55-6 pasting of the opponent, Jumpy Jaws gets his ass thumped in the parking lot by Chet Ballard, we move on. Possible.

Or maybe there’ll be no more stupid in-fighting and we won’t have to worry about players sniping at each other, Gil will get no more inane questions even though his playbook and general coaching is a reductio ad absurdum for the ages, and Dudley Dooright will still head to Canada to become a mountie. I don’t think I need to spell out the one that’ll actually happen.

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Judge Ito Throws Out Key Piece Of Evidence In Coach Thorp’s Spouse Abuse Case!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Judge Ito: ‘Cochran from the prosecution tried to frame Mr. Thorp with those whips and chains from Milford Adult Shoppe but it was circumstantial evidence. Not only was it discovered in a K-Mart bag in his garage but the receipt didn’t match his Visa Gold number.”

And doncha just love this nature walk while ripping up your nemesis up one side and down the other? Well, I’ll give Thorpiverse coo’ points (Remember ya, Stuart Scott) for the best artistry in quite some time. Bushes that amazingly look like bushes, not the mashed potatoes that come out of the Bob Evans tub and fences that look like fences, not those bobsled jobs that you would use if you tuened them horizontal in the Milford ’24 Winter Olympics. And the trees in the background nicely grace the landscape. For once, a catalpa is not riding piggyback on a sugar maple.

So this examplar of verdant esthetics gets marred by Coach Thorp’s insisting he never beat Mimi in the first place? Okay, Coach, Marty jumped the gun but can we do our arguing in the Nature Center parking lot, not the Appalachian Trail?

Recently, the NCAA, in response to the forest fires out in the west, advised its institutions to practice sensible and prudent guidelines in response to the situation. Now I think they have done reasonably well in relation to the COVID-19 pandemic. Still, with my living close to Bloomington, Indiana, which is near Hoosier National Forest or Lexington, Kentucky, which is near Daniel Boone National Forest, it is hard for me to believe a raging blaze from either neck of the woods is going to engulf Assembly Hall or Rupp Arena, respectively.

And Gil shouldn’t be fanning the flames even if Marty has been a thorn in Gil’s side. I’d hate to see the Milford High School gym burn to the ground. I’d hate to see whether Milford is burning while they’re arguing over the Cubs’ pennant chances (gotcha, Robmize) .

At Milford Community College

“Do you have the volleyball court boarded up? I heard it’s a 3-alarm blaze at Milford Fish & Wildlife Area.”

“Nailing in the last set of brads even as I speak.”

It is with deep sadness that I announce the death of Ron “Kool” Bell of Kool & the Gang. He and his brother, Robert Bell, were instrumental in keeping the group hip-hopping with their catchy Hip-Hop style. Disdaining the word “disco”, which they really weren’t, they influenced the music scene and set trends along the way. “Celebrate” was their trademark hit, hitting #1 easily on the Billboard charts. They also scored with “Ladies Night”, “Jungle Boogie”, “Tonight”, “Fresh”, and “Cherish”. They got the whole world dancing to a nifty beat and the world had fun along the way. Please join me in saluting a man who was instrumental in making the world a better place through music. You got my respect, Kool. RIP

And in P2, Gil is mad as Hell and not gonna take anymore. Fair enough. But who the HELL recorded this? And why? Was there a camera behind the bushes?

“Gil, you couldn’t coach out of a doggie bag at The Diner. Why didn’t you put Knappe in as QB? Just because he buttered his Wonder Bread the wrong way? Your strategy matches that of Tinkertoys. And Mimi needs to replace the Saran Wrap on her head with aluminum foil. They may call her The Tin Man but she’d still have better-looking her than you. And coach better.”


Allen Funt comes out of the catalpa-sur-le-sugar-maple

“Smmmmmiiiiiiillllllleeeeeeee, you’re on Candid Camera!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Coach, you were wonderful. We had him going, didn’t we, members of the studio audience? Marty didn’t mean half that stuff.”

“Don’t press your luck, Mr. Funt.”

“Laugh” sign flashes on

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, that Marty, he’s a riot. We were telling knock-knock jokes, ladies and gentlemen, before we set up the cameras here and he had me rolling in the grass.”

Yes, next time you hike the Milford Trails Network, be sure to look around. You never know when that camcorder might be shooting out of the trees when you think a red squirrel is feasting on acorns.

“Maureen, did True ever make the Tampa practice squad when you were pumping that baseball scout for information literally and figuratively behind the pie rack at The Diner? And did you special-order some sandpaper for your shagbark hickory lines on your visage?”

Hey, it’s not begging the question if the premise is true, no matter how much I’m presuming.

Whoa Hoss, Mimi. And just when I patted T-Verse on the back for trees such as the one overhanging couple #2 on The Newleyweds, a Tigris Milfordensis Poplarum, I had to go right around and give T-Verse a size 12 Dickie Boots kick in the rumpus for Mimi’s remark.

LESS PATIENT??????????? When has Gil EVER been MORE patient with The Snake With The Scoop? Us T-Verse veterans have never seen Gil and Marty at a church picnic talking over 1st Corinthians 13, the Love chapter. Yeah, though I speak with the tongues of angels and perform miracles and wonders and have not love, I am Marty Moon at a Milford Mudlark Baseball game when the concession stand ran out of cheeseburgers and Cracker Jack and the ‘Larks are getting an ass-whupping by Tilden that I have to broadcast in the rain and I forgot to bring a poncho.

Being less patient with Marty is like saying Hell isn’t as hot as after the Glacial Period arrived by the Grace of God.

“Dr. Pearl, do you like your hair after you quit using Beaver Cleaver as your hairdresser?”

Hey, it could’ve happened. You’ve heard of the Miracle Mets, right?

And I will look in my Webster’s Third International Dictionary for the word “snippy”. I need to strengthen my vocabulary.

“Don’t get snippy with me, Keri. We like country-line dancing at the nudist camp.”

“Young man, your attempts to rationalize your behavior are admirable but snippy. You will still have to serve your suspension for ordering Nick’s Pizza in Mr. Rooney’s class. I’ve already talked with Mr. Spicoli and his response was snippy as well.”

At The Bucket, the manager in the men’s room with a teenage flunky

“Okay, Freddy, somebody shot for the moon and left a lot on the floor. Left the tiles all snippy. I want as much Pine-Sol as you can get dumped everywhere and spray with Lysol. The Snippy-Sized spray cans should be under the sink.”

Look, I gotta try new words on for size. Use them or lose them.

“And we’ll be back for another Nature Study With Coach Thorp-Ferreting Out Hummingbirds In Mimi’s Birdbath after these messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV.”

In the fallout shelter in Coach Shaw’s backyard at 2:21AM

KNOCK!!!!!!!!! KNOCK!!!!!!!!! KNOCK!!!!!!!!!

“Honnnnnnnneeeyyyyyyyy, I’m horny!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why are you underground like that?”

“Damn, Woman, How’d you know I was here?”

“There’s a trail of toilet paper you left behind.”

“Shit!!!!!!!!! That’s one less roll I’ll have for the next two weeks!!!!!!! Thank goodness I still have 268 rolls in the pantry.”

“Darling, there’s no reason for you to be down there. Now open de widdle door so we can go to beddie bye and I can give you something softer than Charmin.”

“NO WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!! I heard the trailhead at Milford Municipal Forest Preserve was consumed with a forest fire bigger than Armageddon!!!!!!!!! I need to protect myself!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Honey, the Forest Preserve is on the other side of town.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. These pyromaniacs lull you into a false sense of security and next thing you know BOOM, your house was engulfed innflames by a meteor that you thought was near the Pegasus constellation. That’s why the Federals lost the First Battle of Bull Run. Everybody was picnicking when the Confederates were believed to be at Miami Beach.”

“And what are you doing for food?”

“Oh, Lordy, let me count the ways. I have plenty of Nick’s Pizza that I ordered and he delivered about 15 minutes ago. And I have plenty of Hungry Man TV Dinners. Mmmmmmm, mmm, I’m throwing a Buffalo-Style Meat Loaf with Mashed Potatoes in the microwave. Shoot, the brownie’s so wimpy, I fed it to the gerbils. Gotta keep my macho image.”

“Which is fading away when I’m not down there.”

“Hey, I can always make it up with a bowl of Wheaties. No better way to keep your mojo in order than with eating right out of a box with Gil on the cover or Fruit Loops. I got 56 boxes of those. And 27 boxes of Cream of Wheat. Man, that’s better than testosterone. And 98 boxes of Kraft Macaroni & Cheese. Oh, and 31 Klondike Bars. The dessert of all erections. Darn, I should have remembered to get some Ramen Noodles before I shut the lid.”

“If I go to the Neighborhood Market and get a couple of boxess, can we call a truce?”

“I had to open the door. Especially when I found out from CNN on my auxiliary TV that the fire had been contained in 10 minutes. I have a lot of toilet paper to use until the end of the decade. But I was hungry for more than Ramen Noodles and when I took my Ramen sex life to Milford Men’s Clinic, I got plenty of Manwiches in return. And we’ve been spicing it up ever since. I gave away the Fruit Loops to Milford Food Pantry. Don’t you want to eat your Wheaties? Sure you do. Come down to get your own photo on the Wheaties box after your energy kicked in and started your fire. No fire extinguisher can put this one out. Only at Milford Men’s Clinic.

I’m not begging the question, Gang. You know me better than that. Gil really is a lousy coach.

God bless you, Gang.

Dr. Pearl leaves her sanctuary and sees life for the first time. She enters the first room after her eyes get adjusted to the lights.

It’s Ms. Rizk editing a student cub reporter’s Milford High School Future Farmers of America report

“Ms. Rizk.”

“Dr. Pearl.”

“Have you stopped wasting your time reviewing the Milford Bugle, especially those Milford Sanitary Solutions, Inc. ads and those reports about teenagers TP’ing Coach Thorp’s yard and those catalpas-sur-le-sugar-maples by the football field? Some parents have been complaining.”


Honesty when we are begging the question. There’s light at the end of the tunnel.




I snippy, therefore I am

And Descartes subsequently invented the x-y graph.


  1. Fuck Gil and his bass-ackwards logic. Marty might be a dick but all he’s doin’ is sayin’ what needs to be said.

    Comment by franku2016 — September 10, 2020 @ 10:37 am

  2. Now we know what happened to the Thorp kids. Marty adopted them!

    Comment by Jive Turkey — September 10, 2020 @ 2:32 pm

  3. LOLOLOLOL Gilberto Tharpe has known Martinez Luna for HOW LONG? Why in the name of God would he swallow the bait of such an flagrant and obvious trolling bullshit question? This is the kind of shit a high school reporter would ask!

    And has Martinez moved into the 21st century with podcasts, or is he still in the Bronze Age of AM squawk radio? And I thought Martinez was gone for good after he decided to pull a “Father Coughlin”?

    Comment by hitorque — September 10, 2020 @ 2:41 pm

  4. Compared To What?

    Comment by nedryerson — September 10, 2020 @ 3:40 pm

  5. Another super day for comments!!!!!!!!!

    Ned, Thank you a million times for the insert. My love of jazz is part of what makes me who I am and this was an excellent contribution. I will check him out. Keep these inserts coming, My Man.

    Again, good commentary. I love what you have to say in large part because I am watching Democracy in action. Watching people speak their minds is priceless to me because without it, civilization does not move forward. Well done.

    God bless you, Gang. You mean the world to me.

    Comment by tdrewhardin — September 12, 2020 @ 2:45 pm

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