This Week in Milford

December 29, 2020

Plot Is Just A Four-Letter Word.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 11:03 am

Seems like only yesterday

We left this rot behind

Wallowing at The Bucket

With no gist of a plot in mind

We sat with a concrete block on our knee

We begged to be rescued from slavery

Our eyes deluged with tears of misery

A phrase popped up about Gil

Occurred

That plot is just a four-letter word

Gang, I had to start off with a Dylan Classic, sung by the great Joan Baez, her album “Any Day Now” just a killer of a disc. My dad used to play that back in the ’60’s in his Corvette on his cassette players when those gadgets were in their embryo stage. Had to use the tune for Gil-slaying. I’m sure Joan will understand.

And why not? Ol’ Doug just returned to Rockville from Florida, like any of us could just skip homework and go to Disneyworld. Hey, Coach, can I ditch practice? I’ve always wanted to meet Mickey and Minnie and this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I’ll work on my free throwa on the way. I understand this one rest stop on Florida’s Turnpike has basketball goals and a full court in its parking lot. Right next to the IHOP. I’ll get my FT percentage up to 70% before I load down on Blueberry Paradise Swedish Flapjacks. Pass the Aunt Jemimi Lo Cal.

Coach Thorp, name me one player from an Indiana high school which won the High School Boys Basketball State Championship back when it was one-class who would essentially TELL his coach, not ASK his coach, that he was skipping practice or a game because he was racing in the Daytona 500 over the weekend. Just about any coach from that period would have told that player to stay in Daytona because you won’t be on the team. No hard feelings.

Coach and Doug, Marion High School did not accumulate the State Championships on the city water tower because the Giants (nickname of the school) had players who did as they durn well please. Nobody skipped practice to play in clabber tournaments. No beach volleyball participants. The point guard for the ’75 Giants (one of the years Marion won) did not tell his coach he was going to attend a Jehovah’s Witness convention.

Gunnar Wyman, the coach of the Vincennes Alice that won the State Championship in ’81, was a target of a petition to remove him as coach. When his team won the State, he kept that petition. Thank God my name isn’t on it (ha) . Anyway, I’d hate to know that one of the reasons the petition came to be in the first place, besides not winning enough games, was because Gunnar wouldn’t excuse the team from Sectional when they were in the Vincennes Lanes Teenage Division Bumper Bowling Final. And Gil, Gunnar has more Indiana State Banners than you. Take the hint.

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O. J. Wins The Senior Adult Single Exhaust Turbo Funny Car Finals At Milford 400!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I’m really proud of that trophy. I’m gonna put next to my Heisman on the bookshelf.”

And Thorpiverse is once again assuming the idiotic, that TWIMers can’t reason together and sort out the fish from the rubber tires floating around Mudlark Lake. That’s right, T-Verse, I’ll just grab my bamboo pole and reel in that Michelin tire. Heck, you can’t tell that from trout. It all filets the same.

Did Doug drive at warp speed to get to Florida so that he could race in God knows where? As many of our readers have pointed out, it’s debatable where Gil’s Milford is located but let’s situate Milford, for argument’s sake, somewhere in the Midwestern or Mideastern portion of the U.S. C’mon, Gang, he didn’t drive to Florida over the weekend from Milford, Maine just to get to Boca Raton for a Go-Kart Tournament. I mean, it’s about 5 hours from Atlanta to the Florida state line. Anything beyond that and your piling on more hours, several at a time. So unless he lived on Bankhead Highway in the Milford Neighborhood of Atlanta, I’m wondering how he managed to motor, say, 20 hours to maybe Arcadia or Clewiston or Tampa, run a corridor along I-75 to stay in basketball shape, do his homework at Denny’s (does Denny’s Conference Room at Gainesville have a chem lab?) , have spare tires in his trunk if his Go Kart blew one around turn 3, recruit the locals to be his pit crew, win the race, go out and date the girl that’s normally one of the prizes besides perhaps a fairly sizeable check, CASH THE CHECK, go back to the hotel and do more homework and pray the Clewiston Marriott has a gym to work on basketball defensive footwork, then head back home. Oh, I forgot the tolls. Better bring a change purse.

In time to talk about Donald Duck on Monday morning after plenty of sleep.

Yeah.

And he drove 20+ hours (maybe) for anything short of Daytona????? If he raced in a swamp pit outside of Osceola driving a 1911 buggy with a motor fresh from Rudolf Diesel’s laboratory where the loser gets devoured by alligators, well, telling Coach Thorp “take the team and shove it, I’m heading for adventure” would be worth it, otherwise, Doug, take your tolls and shove it. And go to practice.

If ya tell the boss at the insurance company ya work fer that you is skippin’ Friday at the office so yuz kin drag race at the Milford Speed-o-Rama and ya enjoy takin’ off the shirt and tie fer some major smoke and grease inhalation and a trophy ever now and then ta stick on yore desk, ya might be a redneck.

I heard Gil rambling in his office

Dogs howled to the break of day

Doug should keep his mouth shut

Gil has no words to say

Your coaching was limited and underfed

You prated and crowed, we flipped our lid

You’re incompetent as supposed coach of the kids

You probably didn’t think we’d

Rid

Of you

But, Gil, Plot is just a four-letter word

ANOTHER CHANGE OF DIRECTION!!!!!!!!!!!! No sooner has Doug stepped off the S. S. Minnow at Mudlark Lake after a weekend of rubbing elbows with Huey, Dewey, and Louie and racing his Radio Flyer at the Daytona in time for his first class than we have a bouncy, giggly female who wears her basketball uniform in the hallways, the school prom, while singing Handel’s “Messiah” in front of the Christmas tree at Milford Civic Center with Milford Choral Society, while she’s getting her wisdom tooth yanked out at the dental office and at campfire sings. Now if she forgets her uniform at the basketball games, I give my carte blanche for somebody to shoot her.

And it would only be fitting that Shiny Happy People are following Miss Wore Uniform As Johnny Reb At The Battle Of Vicksburg. They’re about the only people numb to this girl’s apparel.

Not that I really object to her attire. There are people who live for sports. But in the world of Thorpiverse where we’ve observed a succession of persons with no life, I’m betting a Bucket Burger she’s not about to end the losing streak. Keep your shirt on, literally.

So now we have a point guard with a jacket with more decals than on your refrigerator and a girl with a uniform we hope got washed this week. Her joie de vivre is encouraging until she displays her armpits. Actually, she’s doing that now as she shows off her shooting form. As long as Tide goes hand in hand with her sleeping in her jersey, I have no problem with her follow-through.

At the Milford Gym at practice

“Tessi, You’re putting good arch on your shot but…did you take a bath this morning?”

“No, Coach, the Milford Sewer Department had to dig behind our house again.”

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“SST’s Seen Soaring In The Milford Skies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Unconfirmed reports say a student on loan was being returned from Florida.”

And Corina is back AGAIN???????? I’m sure she was sent as a wet blanket to Miss Wears Uniform Over Her Graduation Gown and the bubbly enthusiasm thereof, but why? Is it really necessary to send Corinavirus to shoot down another human being, even if that human being is accumulating BO on her stats, not to mention shirt? Every time someone gets bigger than his or her britches lately, Corinavirus is there to rise to the occasion. I’d hate to have Gil talking about his next Dream Team on WDIG. Corina would call in and compare Milford’s Dream Team to the ’62 Mets. Shoot, I’ll take a girl’s halitosis on her uniform than one with halitosis to her mentality, Corinavirus most definitely in mind.

So when Doug steps off the SST and talks about the trophy he won at the Osceola 500, is Corina going to be there and say he couldn’t take his Go Kart and do the same thing at the Indy 500? Is Corina going to be our resident rain on everyone’s parade? Thank God she wasn’t skating with Coach Kaz at Gil’s Christmas Party. She might have checked Kaz’s skates for lice. Anything to stay in character. I’m talking about Corina, not the lice. Or did you think…Nahhhhhh.

Let’s kill off Corina by having a Coffee Bean Ornament fall straight off the Thorpmas Tree square on Corina’s head, splitting her skull in two. Problem solved.

COACH KAZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! COACH KAZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I KNOW WHO SHOT COACH SHAW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Really? Who was it?”

“It was-“

“Time out to wish all my fans and friends a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.”

P3 will never be the same.

Gil bolted from his cubbyhole

Escaped from coaching games

Drifting in and out of plotlines

Unmentionable by name

Searching for real coach, nothing more

That evaporated to the core

Though Milford pined and canvassed any door

We all surmised that there was nothing more

Absurd

Than that this plot is just a four-letter word

Gang, remember Karl “The Mailman” Malone? He always delivered in the NBA. One of the greats who I highly respect for an excellent career.

I think Tessi is talking to The Mail Truck in P3. Where is Corinavirus when you need her? Oh sure, she’ll shoot down a paper airplane but when a C-130 goes blasting over the Milford School grounds? She left like Gil. Corinavirus, you disappoint me. You can take the wind, but not the smell, out of somebody’s sail until someone comes along and looks like they not only haven’t missed a meal, damn, she ate the whole buffet table. She ate everybody literally out of house and home. Don’t go to lunch hour at Milford Diner if she’s ahead of you in line. Unless you plan on ordering water. Corinavirus, you’re not there with Maureen to throw stones at someone whose culinary methods are flagrantly careless? As long as you’re going to be a public nuisance, you might as well crucify them all, although you admittedly would need bar joists to hoist Cressa on a cross while heading to Golgotha.

Though I hardly understood your methods

When you were speaking to your team

Your players fixed the agenda

Every day or so it seems

Your shoddy plans that’s supposed to last eternity

Blow up in your face, that’s the destiny

Fall on deaf ears, discipline roams free

Yes, we know now, your trapped yourself liberally

Your laissez-faire coaching

Assured

That plot is just a four-letter word

And I really don’t think “Fat Farm” is really in Tessi’s vocabulary even if Cressa really won’t have to do what Alexa did last year to heighten her aggresiveness. Cressa could back down a Greyhound in the paint, it wouldn’t be necessary to knock her classmates around in the library, they could go flying into the non-fiction section if Cressa wasn’t careful. Cressa should have no trouble blocking out a water buffalo and smaller this year. And if Cressa decides to wear her uniform to school like Tessi is doing, serious alterations would obviously have to be met. I think there’s still some used American flags in the storage area that could pass for a temporary uniform until the UPS truck arrives with the specialty orders.

But the TV show sounds like a winner. I will check it out.

At the Thorp household during the Holidays

“Mommy, Daddy dead-bolted the garage and won’t let anybody in. He says Santa forgot to give him something. But I don’t hear any Ho Ho Ho’ing. And where’s Rudolph?”

“Uhhhhhh, he still might be on the roof. I saw hoof prints on the antenna.”

Mimi heads outside

“Gil, what are you doing in the garage? And why is it locked?”

“Hang on, Honey. I have to give myself a shot in the butt because I want to get sexually aroused. But I forgot which needle he wanted me to use first so I’m trying to find the winning combination.”

“Is thst the reason why there’s hypodermic needles on the coffee table?”

“Darling, I’m tired of being limp in bed. I don’t want to start strong in the race and poop out at the finish line. If I stick the right formula in my rear end, I’ll have more moves than Jordan in the ’91 Finals.”

“Mommy, I didn’t know Jordan could dunk because he gave his butt a shot.”

“Keri, that’s silly. Daddy is wasting his maxed-out credit card on medications prescribed by Dr. Seuss. If he’d use those EREC-3500 supplements like I have begged him forever to do, he wouldn’t be freezing out in the garage.”

“Mimi, I’m fine. I have 15 more needles to try and one of them will make me feel like Tarzan. I’ll bet he had fun jumping on Jane like a trampoline.”

“Daddy, I thought Santa Claus was in the garage with you.”

“Blubba blubba, he is, Sweetheart, as a matter of fact, he’s eating his milk and cookies while I’m taking care of a very important medical problem. Santa understands. He delivered the goods to make me big and strong. If I can soar with the eagles rather than caw with the crows, I’ll give him some more Oreos.”

“Gil, I’d rather you have Chips Ahoy! for dinner than to be needlessly sticking yourself like that. Why don’t you open the door and let my love in?”

“Daddy, I don’t see Rudolph anywhere.”

“Glippy Glop, he’s probably with someone he can hump, I mean, he is probably off with someone who really likes him, right, Santa?”

HO HO HO THAT’S RIGHT. I’M GIVING HIM SOME DOWN TIME BECAUSE HIS RED NOSE GOT ME THROUGH THE LAST BLIZZARD YOU WANT TO TRY THIS NEEDLE GIL?

Mimi, rolling eyes at awful imitation, a flailing attempt at James Earl Jones with some Dick York thrown in

“Gil, please get out of the garage and come to your senses. You don’t need a vaccination clinic at Walgreen’s to conquer your ED problems.”

“Mimi, I will stand firm or all get some more needles.”

“Daddy, I’ll bet Rudolph doesn’t use needles to get a girl. That’s what his nose is for.”

“When my daughter made it crystal clear, it was time to face my problem. And Mimi was right. Just a glass of water and one dose of EREC-3500, and I got me a brand new bag like James Brown. And with other effective treatment problems that work at Milford Men’s Clinic, isn’t it time YOU found your reindeer to slip under the sheets with, brimming with confidence that your red nose will rise to the occasion? Guide your own sleigh at the Milford Men’s Clinic today and tell ’em Santa sent ya.

You’re wrong, Gang, Cressa can back down a moose in the paint. Shoulda seen the number she did on Bullwinkle.

But God bless you, Gang.

3 Comments »

  1. Today is the introduction of the latest glib character with a funny name, and possibly more, plus Corina “i hate authority and team sports” Karena, who will now be on her second sports team in less than four months. So, CK, do you not like team sports or do you actually like them? Make up your dam mind

    Comment by franku2016 — December 29, 2020 @ 12:53 pm

  2. 1. Wait, Peppermint Patty is a fuckin’ basketball player now? Because that unfunny one-line retort to a basic and common greeting is classic Patty…

    1a. “How was everybody’s weekend?” Do Westview athletes *EVER* fucking talk to each other during the actual school day? It’s such a weird thing to wait until practice to ask…

    2. Why is a teacher suiting up in panel 3?

    3. If Doug is even halfway serious about this, then presumably his father would be footing the expenses and driving them both to events with the kart(s), tools and spares in a trailer or the back of a cargo van; along with dealing with the registration paperwork and being his son’s one-man pit crew… I guess what I’m saying is, why the hell didn’t his father have this chat with Gilberto?

    3a. “Just racin’, Charlie!” Okay Mr. Parnelli Jones, how about telling us the events you raced in and how you placed and what you won, if anything? Because I seriously doubt you and your old man drove 15+ hours to Daytona to get the exact same experience you could have gotten at the local indoor karting facility/arcade/pizza parlor…

    4. Mickey and Minnie? That’s what passes for cultural relevance in 21st century Westview? (I’m assuming the race venue was NOT at a Disney property, but then again it might have been?)

    Comment by Hitorque — December 29, 2020 @ 7:19 pm

  3. Hitorque and Frank, You both come through like you always do. Your contributions are priceless and slugged Corina in the place she needs to padlock shut. Corina indeed is unwelcome in Round 2 and you both are letting her know it.

    You both are invaluable to Democracy. Keep that idea alive, Gentlemen. God bless you both.

    Comment by tdrewhardin — December 30, 2020 @ 9:07 pm


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