This Week in Milford

July 6, 2020

An Unofficial Loss

The big event has come to a halt. It looks like The Mayor and Gonzo (?) are reviewing the game. The big takeaway is that Hiawatha and Corina Karenna are bonding over ice cream bars. I’ll bet an ice cream bar goes down nice and easy when your standing in the heat with a chest protector strapped to you. The odds are that we’ll never hear from Hiawatha/Corina again. Their meet cute will be as much a footnote to Mudlark lore as the rest of Hiawatha’s appearances.

This postmortem tells us that the game never actually ended. Presumably, the umpire got sick of all the nonsense and walked away. Also, the infield was covered in regurgitated pizza, subs and ice cream so it was kind of a health hazard.

What wrap up would be complete without Kaz and Gil summarizing something that they didn’t participate in? It looks like Kaz is catching Gil just as he’s sliding down a freshly waxed hallway in his socks. (Good job, Steve!) Yep, everyone left happy and there were only a few minor cases of food poisoning.

June 30, 2020

The Only One Who Has Delivered So Far Has Been The Domino’s Driver.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 8:38 am

 

Harry, soused with a couple of pepperonis and 10 Buds, begins the ritual at the 7th-inning stretch

ALL RIGHT YOU MUDLARKS LET ME HEAR YA GOOD AND LOUD

 

TAKE ME OUT TO THE PICNIC

TAKE ME OUT TO THE FOOD

BUY ME SOME THREE MEAT AND CRACKER JACK

I DON’T CARE IF WE EVER LOSE TRACK

SO IT’S ON AND ON FOR THIS CRAPPER

IF WE DON’T END, WHO’S TO BLAME

FOR IT’S ONE!!!!!!

TWO!!!!!!!

PLOT HAS STRUCK OUT AT THIS CRYING SHAME

 

LET’S GET SOME PIZZA!!!!!!!!!!!

 

When Spicoli got his pizza delivered at his charity event yesterday, I knew the plot was going to be stuck in neutral until, oh, the football season. Doesn’t look like Gil’s going to give one of his life’s lessons to some zit-infested teenager when addressing the ball at the Milford Country Club Golf Course. There still might be time at the end of the summer at the miniature golf course. Gil won’t have to reserve a tee time at Milford Links. He can teach a group of freshmen how to overcone adversity when negotiating your stroke through an opening in a windmill house that is steadily rotating its windmill blades. Just time your career path so that it won’t hit the rotor blade. You wouldn’t want your status as a lawyer or an engineer blocked because you didn’t line up the shot AND was caught off guard when the windmill swooped down. And at the hole, drive for show, putt for dough. You’ll pass more bar exams that way. Boom, you’ve two-putted and become just like Hadley Venom.

And let’s face it, as long as ‘Watha is chowing down on a chunka pizza in P1, I think it is safe to say that baseball is on hold for a while. Oh, good strategy, Mayor. When you’re getting your ass handed to you, well, you know the number of Milford Domino’s. While the Mudlarks are piling on the runs, you can stop the action and announce a temporary truce. And while the Mudlarks are innocently gobbling up the sausage and pan hand-tossed cheese-crusted pepperoni and side order of breadsticks combo, you can huddle your troops behind one of those mutant poplars and exhort “We got ’em where we want ’em. They score any more runs, they’ll be barfing up more pepperoni at home plate than Mimi’s team has ball games.” Sure, Mayor. If Johnny Bench in the forefront had consumed pizza box after pizza box, it might have turned the tide in the ’75 Series. No way was he throwing out Jim Rice or Fred Lynn trying to steal when he’s constipated. Trying to hit a home run while waiting for Luis Tiant to deliver a pitch from that forever-pace windmill windup while you’re pooping pepperoni? Easy dribbler to the first baseman. And don’t even talk about Carlton Fisk using body english when he was motioning his homer to go fair on a full stomach of strombolis and Canadian bacon. Yeah, sometimes pizza and baseball strategy can not only backfire but make strange bedfellows. Your own team proves that.

 

Oooooookkkkk, Gang, you’ve been good to me for over two years. This is the least I can do but I’m confident many of you will enjoy it. From another one of my favorite albums, Jimmy Buffett’s (yeah, I can see some of you putting on your grass skirts already) “License to Chill” (and #1, sweet, sweet)

 

Little roadside pickup game we artfully complain

‘Watha tells the zebra ump that this sideshow dies in vain

None of this falderol went according to design

Mayor lives his dream but to VM he’s still resigned

 

From the bottom of this bull

On the verge of this lampoonery

After one or two false starts

We still may never hit our stride

And the game that just won’t end

Heck, we can improvise or guess

Or artfully pray to get around

‘Cause I still got my own pride

From the bottom of this bull

 

And if you excise ‘Watha shamelessly devouring his Domino’s Pan Crust, WHAT could you point to that would indicate we’re at a ball game? Okay, the backstop but I could transplant that structure on American Bandstand promising the teeny bops that heartthrob Donny Osmond was going to sing a duet with Harry, getting the girlie-girls to faint on “Take Me Out to the Ballgame”. Just don’t blow the teenyboppers with your Bud breath, Harry. Later, both of them close the show with “Sweet and Innocent”, Mimi accompanying on the flute that’s part of the song. We naturally assume your 5-game softball season is over, Mimi. Tomorrow is July.

Really, the only thing missing in this crowd is Dick Clark. We don’t think he’s going to advertise DQ Burgers if the Domino’s dude is talking to one of the members of Fairport Convention. And Peter Brady showed up to disco and take in a game. So did Roy Clark in the background, only substitute “generic country tune” for “disco”. Shame, because you could insert this inanity on Hee Haw and tell everybody it’s a skit. Who would believe otherwise? Yeah, there’s Lulu coaching in the first base box. And Junior Samples lining the field before the game. Before he takes his position in centerfield. Yeah, Junior, you might want to shade that Mudlark a little left. He likes to pull. Then what are those kids doing here? Are they part of Pete and Pete? Remember that episode when Pete and Pete were trying to get the personal skinny on the ice cream man who frequented their neighborhood? And Michael Stipe of REM, who plays a fellow ice cream man, rebukes the kids by pointing out “He sells you ice cream at a cheap price. What more do you want?”

“Domino’s dude, do you use whips and chains on your wife?”

“Uhhhhhh, would you kids want another extra large pizza cookie? I got plenty of chocolate chip slices in the freezer bag. I brought plenty of dry ice so the chocolate chips won’t melt. You don’t want to get sick. You want to grow up big and strong.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Headline

“Coach Thorp Cited For Streaking At Milford Outdoor Amphitheater!!!!!!!!! Court Date To Be Determined Later!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Just because I was wearing my grass skirt at a Buffett concert? Shoot, the only other time I wear it is at night when I’m in estrus with Mimi.”

 

We can’t see the future but beg it’s coming swift

It’s not hard to find yourself knee-deep in this BLEEP

It’s come a lot of Mondays since the exile on that day

Through months and trysts and protein fixtures, we wish this to be spayed

 

From the bottom of this swill

On the edge of all this Blarney

After one or two false starts

Whitewash this with cyanide

And the game that just won’t end

Heck, we can estimate or guess or simply fool around

‘Cause this ain’t got no pride

From the bottom of this swill

 

And Heather Burns Who Cops An Attitude Who Goes by the alternate Appellation, Corina, we know your outlike on life is testy but is there really any need to address Hiawatha James “The Other Catcher”? Thorpiverse finally admitted it in P1, this is nothing more than a scrimmage between the Hickory Huskers and the townies, Myra Fleenor officiating. At least we believe Myra will wear a powder blue shirt, not zebra stripes to confuse the townies. Anyway, Corina’s outlook on life got her with the townies when the fate of the gods was choosing up sides.

“Hey, Other Coach, as soon as you get done teaching the Milford Freshman Golf team that ‘Negotiating the ball across the bridge that shoots up periodically is like negotiating with the boss in a job interview, you might not get the job because he jumped up to wipe his crack in the bathroom after his hemorrhoids flared up’, how’s about a date. One of those restaurants that has no name that me and the girls always go to cooks a mean ravioli.”

Gil and Mimi tied the knot months later in a pledge of eternal bliss.

 

At the Milford Country Club bar, Gil during Karaoke Hour performing a classic Ray Parker, Jr., the Milford High School Honors Alto section and Milford High School Jazz Ensemble accompanying him

“I’m in love.”

I’M IN LOVE

“With the other principal.”

Doo doo. Doo doo DOO DOO DOO

“I’m in love…”

 

“Domino’s dude, do you wear a diaper when you crap your pants?”

“Uuuhhhhhh, You kids want some more pepperoni? There’s a couple more boxes and everybody else is headed towards the exits.”

 

If ya stop the Milford Conservation Club Turkey Shoot in the middle of nowhere at sum bare ground where they wuz once a fireplace and it’s still got sum loose beer cans roamin’ around th’ underbrush ta fellowship with sum rotgut and sum pepperoni pizza with pepperoni made from sum ostrich farm and ya gotta restack the sticks ta make another fire ta fire up th’ rotgut, ya might be a redneck.

 

These days baseball commences ’bout the time The Longest Day concludes

Making sense was once the deal, now we watch PizzaFest exude

Situation’s pointless and predictable unlike sports viewed in real life

But I’ll the fans and The Mayor, careful with that knife

 

From the bottom of this junk

On the edges of our sanity

After one or two false starts

This certainly isn’t bona fide

And the game that just won’t end

Heck, we can speculate or grope or find a way around the bend

‘Cause this stinks 6 feet wide

From the bottom of this junk

 

At the Milford Comedy Club one night

“…are you The Other Principal? And Dr. Pearl answered ‘What do I look like, Mr. Weatherbee who soaks his dentures in Palmolive’?”

Gil once again falls flat

The stereo system comes to life

“…with these changes in latitudes

Changes in attitudes

Nothing remains quite the same

 

With all of our running

And all of our cunning

We couldn’t laugh

This plot just went insane…”

 

And from the looks of P3, allow me to recreate a scene

“Hey, Other Coach, after you teach your charges that shooting through the cannon to make par is like when your house is on fire and you have to run through the spare shower where Granny uses Prell to get rid of the gray when she runs out of Grecian Formula and if you ignore the urine smell she leaves, you’ll shoot out of the house unscathed and your score will improve, how about a lunch date at Milford Denny’s? They have a pancake special that flattens The Bucket Breakfast Menu.”

“Other Softball Coach With A Fluffy Schedule, any way you can call me ‘Gil’?”

“Do I have to?”

 

Don’t you think that has possiblities? And this was before she got lavaliered.

 

“Domino’s dude, is it true you worked on the chain gang at Milford Correctional Center laying down rail for Milford & Oakwood and your present job is part of a Work Release Internship Program?”

“Uhhhhhhhhh, you kids want anymore breadsticks? They’re a little stale but it’s that or I’m going to give them to my bloodhounds.”

 

“And the party is well underway. I have a couple of Pepperoni/Hawaiian Pineapple under my microphone. We’ll be back after these messages with score, Milford, 8, Valley Modified, 0. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

 

 

At Coach Shaw’s house at bedtime

“Honnnnnnnnneeeeeeyyyyyyy, it’s time to have some funnnnnnnnnnnnnn, it’s-”

Coach Shaw in the den with his Jazz guitar

“Darling, why are you wearing a grass skirt?”

“…dance to the left, dance to the right, cheeseburgers in paradise…

Oh hi, Mrs. Shaw. They’re having an audition for the upcoming Jimmy Buffett concert at Milford Outdoor Amphitheater and I want to put on my best front. You like it?”

“Honey, remove the apparel and let’s go to bed and make our own music.”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead letting Mr. Buffett see my Fruit of the Looms. There is such thing as decorum. You never saw Benjamin Franklin’s crack when he was making a speech up on the podium about hanging together or hanging seperately

“And any manual labor I’ve done is purely by mistake…

It’s my job

To be worried half to death

And that’s another

Reason to stick with Gil

It’s my job but without it

I’d be a pud

And permanently hiding in the trees”

 

“Honeyyyyyyyyyy, I’m sure Jimmy Buffett has seen holy underwear with semi-brown stains in the crotch. And I see it every night but I won’t dismiss you from the band.”

“I can never be too careful. If I can sound like Earl Klugh and stick some Renuzit down my Levi’s, I’ll bet Mr. Buffett will never sniff anything out

Wasting away again in Margaritaville

(Coach Shaw swaying back and forth in his skirt)

Searching for my lost shaker of salt

(Coach Shaw vigorously shaking his skirt, causing the ants to flee)

Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame but I know

(Coach Shaw executing Elvis the Pelvis thrusts with the skirt)

It’s my own damn fault”

(As skirt gracefully drops to the floor, exhibiting semi-brown stains previously discussed)

“I knew I shoild have used the staple gun. Those bobby pins couldn’t hold Gil’s jock together when he’s bowling.”

 

“I had more than malfunctioning grass skirts to worry about. My whim whim was hanging like some of the dead grass in the skirt. I had to own up and head to Milford Men’s Clinic. With excellent treatment programs meant to send your sex life into orbit, isn’t it time you had changes in attitudes? Don’t get callous in Dallas, do like Mr. Buffett said and get off of A-1-A and back on the mainstream to sexual performance. You won’t laugh, you will go insane with pleasure. Only at Milford Men’s Clinic.”

 

Gang, We had pizza AFTER the game was over but otherwise, you’re #1 in my book. God bless you.

 

 

Dick Clark on American Bandstand

“What did you think of this plot?”

“It stinks like rhino BLEEP and it doesn’t have a good beat. It’s got the rhythm of Dr. Pearl’s pacemaker. Definitely pisses in the wind.”

“Well, I appreciate your honesty. And we’ll be right back after these messages.”

To the producer

“I hope the censors caught that. I like to run a clean image on this show.”

 

 

 

“Coach Thorp, how did you comport yourself before you married Mimi? Did you hump your bed a lot?”

“Uhhhhhhhh, you kiddies want to practice your free throws some more? Remember, arch and a spin, go for the rim.”

 

 

 

 

June 24, 2020

Ladies and Gentlemen, Your Valley Modified Freakazoids!

gt06242020

Somehow the worst kept secret in the Valley is out and everyone with nothing better to do has come come out in full force in anticipation of a pummeling. Gaze in wide wonder at the pantheon of headgear on display: a Kangol cap, a pith helmet, some kind of biker cap along with your usual flatbills. Imagine why pith helmet lady feels the need to record this event. Marvel at the number of baby bottles being held by grown-ass adults. Question about those sketchy figures in the background on the grassy knoll. Try your hardest not the meet the gaze of the child of the corn down in front, who is as incredulous that this has drawn a crowd as you are.

The ex-Mayor of Milford High, ever the attention whore, shows up with team t-shirts, clearly inspired by a cartoon that aired about five years before they were born. (Or not; there could be twentysomethings on that Valley Mod team.)

 

 

 

Who sprung for those shirts? Were they a Valley Mod graphic arts project? Did somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody call in a favor? Talk amongst yourselves.

We know the Mudlarks’ motivation for playing this game, but what was Gil and Kaz’s for letting them play it? Taking Hiawatha James’ “more baseball is better than less baseball” statement as a hint, it could be that the ‘Larks are either already done with their season or have already been eliminated from playdown contention. This really feels like a lose-lose for Milford, no matter whether the team follows the catcher with his H.R. Giger-inspired headgear’s advice or not. At this point, all we can do is sit back, watch the wackiness ensue, and hope for the best that we only have three more strips of this nonsense (my bet is on nine).

June 1, 2020

Strange Counting

Filed under: The Bucket — nedryerson @ 5:33 am

Let’s watch as Mike Knappe fills in his former team mates on the goings on at Valley Modified. We heard about the daycare last week, but did we know that the kids in daycare have trouble with the curve? Now we do. Oh Mayor, you crack us up!

Mike’s new friend, Ardis Carhee, is an athlete. Mike knows that Hiawatha and Chris (some Chris, who is maybe the other guy at the table) played hoops against.

Hiawatha lets Mike know that he should include himself, so that makes two athletes at Valley Modified. His counting on his fingers method is confusing though.

Have I ever said I was officially bored by a Gil Thorp plot? I don’t know. Maybe I did. But now I am officially, on record, bored. The small screws or rivets that hold together that Bucket window support beam are more interesting to me that theses kids and what they are doing.

Here’s a song to entertain you that was inspired by this. Some consider this Who album a slight effort. I’m pretty fond of it myself.

April 9, 2020

How To Foil The Dalton Gang And Still Play Left Field.

Filed under: exposition comics, general nonsense, Milford Idiots — tdrewhardin @ 8:40 am

040920

As I told Teenchy yesterday, I thought Barry Bader was a thing of the past. Do we have to deal with his evil twin? This is somewhat like “I Sing The Body Electric” where the kids have a robot for a grandma who eventually also becomes their nanny. A Mrs. Barry Bader running on Eveready batteries tucking the kiddies in bed? And she eats Flushee Puffs out of the tuna can on her lunch break? You get the feeling Thorpiverse will not run out of plot ideas at the rate we’re going. I should have kept those old Snappy Dog Food labels and THEN started to write. I would have finished “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” by now.

Boy, doncha just love one humanoid running out of juice and being put away and ya yank another out of the closet, put the battery cables in the next one, wait an hour, then call him The Mayor?

“Okay, Barry, we’re going to put you back in the closet. You did enough damage to the plot. You did an excellent job while you were an electronic gadget being a horse’s ass and a spoiled brat and a cancer to the team. Oh, and you took somebody out in a game, said something about the umpire’s mother, and you’re dad wound up in Marion, Illinois. Well done, thou good and faithful robot.”

And I guess I could handle The Positronic Man if he wasn’t eating his Wheaties off of a garbage can lid. It’s bad enough that he is fabricating stories but keep this sanitary, Thorpiverse. I really don’t care to hear about how The Positronic Man used a machine gun on Al Capone when Capone was trying to rob the Milford Gambling Casino while The Positronic Man is slurping Green Eggs and Ham out of a Glad 28-Galllon Tall Kitchen Trash Bag. Downin’ it with Mudlar-K-Cola Diet Black Cherry from the GIL mug that Gil slobbered Eight o’ Clock Decaf out of an hour before, boy, I hope my stomach can hold its own while reading about how somebody upchucked his Total cereal and still had good aim on Jesse James, even though Frank James got away when The Positronic Man had to endure one more dry heave.

This plot’s gettin’ off the ground and flyin’ to the moon in one spoonful of Rice Chex, ya think?

 

Because I was intrigued by Detroit being rejected 7 times to host The Olympics as I read recently

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Rejected By The Committee A Record 14th Time By The International Olympic Committee”!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Asphalt not drying on the high school track in a sufficient amount of time cited as a factor in the decision.”

 

And as long Thorpiverse is going to throw The Positronic Man at us TWIMers, we might as well go whole hog and list the 3 rules every Gil-a-Tronic player must follow if he wants to be on the team

1) Do no harm and do everything possible to help the team, even if it means throwing yourself in front of a Milford & Oakwood Express Mail train. Chamoionships were produced from the debris left on the rails.

2) Obey everything Gil says even to the point of jumping off the Mudlark Girls Gym building except if it were to conflict with Rule #1. Common sense is in order at certain hours of the day.

3) A Gil-a-Tronic Man is to preserve himself and not let himself get blindsided especially when interviewing with Marty Moon, except if it were to conflict with Rule #1 and Rule #2. Keeping the world on top for Democracy and keeping Marty Moon on tap is the lifeline for The Gil-a-Tronic Man.

 

Well, The Mayor is certainly doing no harm in P1 with the The Penguin batting stance (gotcha again, Robmize-ha) , flouting his exploits which we’re sure to get an earful of in the coming weeks. Just don’t pull a Willie Stargell on us and do a simulated warm-up swing in the batter’s box. Much as I respected Willie’s game (big time, 2 rings to show for it) , we do have the rest of the season to think about. Remember, The Gil-a-Tronic Man has to observe Rule #1 and not wipe out the rest of the locker room with your swinging for the fences and/or going “Pops” on your teammates. Otherwise, The Gil-a-Tronic Man is going to get lonely out in left field.

Gil shouting from the dugout

CAME YOUR WAY IN LEFT, CENTER, AND RIGHT, GIL-A-TRONIC MAN!!!!!!!!!!!

Rest my case

 

Special Edition to The Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Upset That IOC Passed Over Milford Once Again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“We had the Milford Parks & Recreation Adult Flag Football Field resodded this week. It would have been an international display case for the shot put and the javelin throw.”

 

And we get to the heart of the issue in P2. And I just LOVE running into people who stretch the truth in many different directions. I used to go to church with a guy who showed me his yearbook at his house and talked about how he was a 4.0 student and he was the starting point guard on the basketball team. He would have fit right on the Mudlarks bench, next to the 6th Man.

Anyway, of course, when I didn’t see his mug in the photo shoot of the Varsity Basketball team, he naturally said that he was sick in bed with the flu that day. Sure, Gil-a-Tronic Man wannabe, I understand. COVID-19 kept a lot of liars under the sheets that day.

And of course, he would brag about his adventures at Entebbe, that he was the first one at the airport and he blasted the first two hijackers and the SWAT team mopped up after that. Winning in a rout, it’s Miller Time, SWAT dudes.

And I swallowed it even though the authenticity was obviously buried in The Mayor’s Baggie under the parsley. And I would have ridden off into the sunset with the shit piled as high as those double-decker trees until he started bragging how he was the one that said “Remember the Alamo” at San Juan Hill. How he shoveled Roosevelt’s horse’s droppings. Pseudo-Gil-a-Tronic Man, if you’re going to prevaricate, is there any way you could keep the time period within our lifetime? And be a little more proper? There’s kids reading this blog.

But THAT’S what we appear to be facing in our anti-hero for the next few weeks. Oh boy.

 

“Don’t sit on top of the dugout, Gil-a-Tronic Man”

“But Master Thorp, I am only obeying Rule #2. They said this plot is getting so bad, they’ll be raining eggs and tomatoes before too long. We wouldn’t have a coach if you got buried in the avalanche.”

“Need an umbrella?”

 

And is this all of Hiawatha James’ job description on this strip, dunk the basketball, look stupid with that Mr T.-a-Tronic hairdo in the locker or dugout, be a wet blanket for somebody else’s How I Spent My Off-Season essay/comedy schtick? Didn’t I post when Barry Bader was Badering about his role on the team and ‘watha’s rapier wit shot BB Gun down into the corn field adjacent to the Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage Orientation Building? It seems like his only function is post up, deliver the Jay Leno punchline.

There’s hope. Remember, Kirk Gibson only had one at-bat in the ’88 World Series. If ‘watha can shoot down Dennis Eckersley or The Mayor, he has a career at the Milford Comedy Club.

 

“…do I look like, Keith Smart with only one shot?”

“Gil, why are the Indiana fans leaving?”

 

Weekly Supplement to the Milford Enquirer, replete with 13,643 ad sections

“Milford City Council Orders Shutdown On Milford Natatorium After IOC Snub!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Spokesperson said diving board was damaged after Coach Shaw performed a swan dive; repairs will be implented in the next 10 days in conformity with IOC regulations.”

 

 

At the top of the Milford Federal Credit Union Building, by the observation deck, the Milford Police is trying to talk The Gil-a-Tronic Man off the ledge

“No!!!!!! No!!!!!! Gil-a-Tronic Man!!!!!!!!! Even Rule #3 says you can’t do any harm to yourself!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Except if it’s meant to save another human being as in Rule #2. And with this plot heading towards the sewer, it’s a matter of time before the plot puts the constituency to sleep. Then the Communists will cross the border and it’s only a matter of time before Chairman Mao occupies 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and Pytor Ilyich Lenin occupies Gil’s office. Then you really WILL have a non-coach, but this time with an Iron and Sickle in the gym.”

JUMP, GIL-A-TRONIC MAN, JUMP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

And P3 is just vintage Thorpiverse. When confronted with reality, does Barry Bader Jr. admit the story just might be a tad prefabricated? Nope, he’s got to employ selective memory.

“Gee, I can’t remember how I injured my butt. It’s a coin flip between when I slipped off the rope when I was walking on the tightrope over the Grand Canyon or there was a wet spot in the hallway after someone spilled Mudlar-K-Cola. I’ll give you a final answer tomorrow in the Physics Lab.”

On second thought, Hiawatha James reminds me of a scene in the movie “Patton” when Patton has taken over command in North Africa and makes the rounds inspecting the troops, mess hall, offices, barracks, etc. When he catches a sentry sleeping, he kicks the living shit out of the soldier. The soldier is visibly annoyed but when he realizes it’s Patton, he gives him a very hasty salute. Patton responded

“Keep on going. You’re about the only son of a bitch around here who knows what he’s doing.”

After kicking Barry Bader Jr. in the head, I’d say the same about Hiawatha James.

 

“And we’ll be back to see if Barry Bader Jr. can finish his swim across the English Channel with a 50-pound anvil tied to him and no shark repellant on another exciting episode of ‘You Asked For It’ after these messages. This is WDIG-TV.”

 

At Coach Shaw’s house, Mrs. Shaw pounding on the linen closet door

 

“Honeyyyyyyyyy, come out of closet!!!!!!!! I know you have it dead-bolted but I’m hornnnnyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“No way, Darling. The Positronic Man must never do any harm. If I were to engage in copulation with a cue stick, our sex lives would be ruined. I am following Rule #1 to the letter.”

“But why don’t you follow Rule #2 and obey my orders so we can go to bed and have some fun. Even a cue stick deals with lots of balls.”

“Ball one, blubba blubba, ball two, yer out, well, you see, Rule #3 says I must never do harm to myself. Going in and out, in and out, in and out with a ginsu knife might cut like a knife but it wouldn’t feel right. And how would we carve the turkey? I’d have to go to the Kwikee Mart on Thanksgiving and snag some plastic cutlery off the shelves.”

“Paper, plastic, Honey, I don’t care what silverware you use, why don’t you pretend I’m pumpkin pie and dig into me? Even The Positronic Man sits down with his master at the table at Thanksgiving.”

“And get Stove Top Stuffing all over me? Do you realize how that shit messes up the wiring in my gadgetry? I’ll be spitting out dried croutons and be awash in cranberry sauce. I couldn’t keep the earth safe from aliens from outer space with mashed potatoes and Flushee Puffs all over my uniform!!!!!!!!”

“Even The Positronic Man uses napkins. You can’t disobey that one.”

 

“She had me there. And the moths were eating through my wiring anyway. She sent me down to Milford Men’s Clinic to give my significant other the once-over. With proven treatment programs that work, isn’t it time YOU obeyed rule #2 and obeyed your sexual instincts. Coming from the Planet of Robotics never felt better. Come get charged at Milford Men’s Clinic today. You’ll be glad you did.”

 

Gang, you mean the world to me. In fact, when I get done climbing the Golden Gate Bridge, I’ll be sure to read every one of your comments.

 

At the Milford & Oakwood RR crossing one fine day

VVVVVVVRRRRRRROOOOOMMMMMMMM

“Oh no, Gil. I knew I shouldn’t have bought her Cutty Sark at discount at Milford Beverage Warehouse!!!!!!”

“OMG!!!!!!!!!!! She’ll be cut in a million pieces!!!!!!!!!!!!”

At the crossing

“Grandma Thorp, are you OK????”

“Yes, just a few scratches on my knees but I’m fine. Where’s the pram?”

“Keri caught it before the train could do any damage.”

“Grandma Thorp, I thought for sure the train made you Chop Suey.”

“Oh, Jaime, that’s the beauty of robots and bad plots. They may get torn to pieces but they always get back up.”

I Sing The Body Gil

 

Tomorrow’s headline in the Milford Enquirer running through the presses

“City Commission Seeks Bond Issue To Finance Olympic Basketball At Mudlark Gym In ’24 Games!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Funds earmarked towards 5,000 seat expansion should run on schedule and construction slated for next week.”

 

April 8, 2020

Breakfast in Milford

Filed under: baseball, big arms, Boredom in Milford, Gil Thorp, Pantheon of Hair — teenchy @ 9:02 am

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Random thoughts today:

It appears Rubin is doubling down on making one of the plot lines this spring “What is The Mayor eating for breakfast, and what kind of container is he eating it from?” How he plans to make this relevant is beyond me this morning. Are Knappe’s chronic lateness and need to talk to everybody in the halls symptoms of ADHD? If so, did B/Robby Howry leave some Adderalls stashed in the Mudlarks’ equipment room that could help?

What’s going on with the Milford baseball jerseys? Baseball uniform numbers aren’t usually centered below the team name. Maybe these are leftovers from Milford’s aborted lacrosse program. And what’s with dude whose number ends in “2” behind gesturing speaker guy’s uni? Is he wearing his jersey tucked into a skirt like in A League of their Own or into shorts like the ’76 White Sox?

Finally, poor Hiawatha James, the Pete DeWindt of his class. ‘Watha looks like he wants to be anywhere but in the Milford locker room. Maybe it’s the prospect of catching only one pitcher all season (Gil didn’t mention any others besides Godleski). Maybe it’s the hairdo he’s been saddled with. Maybe he cares as much about The Mayor’s breakfast choices as the rest of us do.

April 7, 2020

“Tune Into The Next Bullwinkle Episode For ‘She Came In Through The Bathroom Window’ Or ‘Optimism Sprouts Like Turnips’.”

Filed under: Gil Thorp, Marjie Ducey — tdrewhardin @ 7:22 am

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I don’t know y’all, but I get this sneaking suspicion that Marjie Ducey is getting the Marty Moon treatment. Now over a number of years, when Moon Pie would interrogate with a shovel in his hands, Gil would respond with a snow shovel of his own. As Gil once said, based upon a true story “It’s a game. He asks me stupid questions. I give him stupid answers.”

But whaddup with Marjie, Gil? Coach, you better tread lightly. It wasn’t too long ago that she broke out of her Coach Shaw mold and actually CONTRIBUTED to the story. Remember that expose she did on Chet Ballard? That story saved your bacon. Another one in a long line of people wanting your head, all standing around in a circle like those old martial arts movies where you’re taking on one at a time utilizing your martial arts moves when if that circle all collapsed on you, you’d be roadkill in a B.C. comic, next to that anthill (“Pop, what’s that skull doing out there?” “I dunno, but Grog will eat it later on.”) .

And Milford High School tore down the old Room 222 structure and evidently borrowed ideas from the Mormon Tabernacle to construct a Neo-Modernistic marvel of the Valley Conference. Marjie and Gil couldn’t be seen walking out of Little Rock High. That was a historical site, not a high school. And coming out of Hickory High was gauche as well. Yeah, I guess it’d look kind of tacky if Marjie went Moon on us while Gil is eviscerating her in return with that “Hickory-State Champ 1954” water tower in the background.

Hey, I can see the concept. Gil acting like a piss ant to Marjie’s honest questions with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir blasting “Onward Christian Soldiers” somewhere on the Milford High School grounds. They may be singing from the chipped beef compartment in the cafeteria line at the high school but as long as it creates proper effect, who’s counting? When you draw majestic structures that are plotted smack dab in the middle of podunktown next to Pop’s Choklit Shoppe, there’s a little wiggle room involved.

 

Gang, I swear, while watching the 1960 World Series on Youtube, the score, 9-9, between the Pirates and the Yankees, bottom of the 9th inning with Bill Mazeroski at the plate with a 1-0 count, I heard somebody softly cheer from the stands “Just get on, Bill”.

I think everybody knows what happened next.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Scores 99-Yard TD Run To Win The Milford Parks & Recreation Adult Flag Football League Championship!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I heard somebody from the stands call me ‘Rhino Legs’ and that motivated me.”

 

If you’re getting your eyes adjusted after Gil and Marjie walked out of Gil’s office after Gil downed another shot of Jack out of his Gil mug (or does he use the Gil mug for a chaser?) and they are in the process of leaving the Milford World Trade Center, you can focus on the conversation at hand.

And the Name Parade continues. We are already familar with Tom Muench as we know he can drive cars on consignment and I think he contributed to the basketball cause. Maybe he didn’t score the game-winning dunk but his name sounded sexy to anybody from Deutschland reading Gil while Chris was learning how to be unselfish. Hey, anything to help the story along. Throw Ivan Putski and Baron Von Raschke in there while Hiawatha contributes 27 points, 19 boards and nobody’s going to notice. The caption is just going to focus on the hero, not the names drawn from the ping pong ball chute. Unless you watch pro wrestling, the appelations will go right over your head.

In the Milford Scenic Sights Trailer Park in plot #67

“Chris Schuring fed Jerry Lawler the winning lay-up? I didn’t know The King played basketball.”

 

So my next question is WHO THE HELL IS ELDRICK BOSTON??????? Okay, we know he’s big and plays 1st base, according to Gilspeak. Oh, THAT’S a lot to go on. For all we know, he’s on a work-release program from Milford Minimum Security Facility playing high school baseball to relieve the tension. He lives in the same trailer park as mentioned above on plot #108, 2 months behind on the rent. He did pay the gas and electric this week after mowing Coach Kaz’s lawn. He is not on welfare because he believes if you don’t work, you don’t eat. And don’t feed him after midnight. You saw what happened to the Gremlins.

“Eldrick, what happened to you?”

“Coach, I don’t know. I went in The Bucket 24-Hour Drive-Thru and ordered Bucket Full o’ Spaghetti. The parmesan cheese did taste funny, it was really chewy.”

 

If ya build a Tower of Babel next ta yore trailer park after savin’ up from the money left over from the rent and utilities ya paid and ya sleep the first night on the floor in the so-called Tower until they build a bunk bed in the den, ya might be a redneck.

 

She came in through the prairie window

Armored with her pen and pad

And how she sucks up and she flounders

By Gil’s desk, interview is sad

 

Didn’t anybody tell her?

She had time to kill

Sunday’s on the phone to Marty

Tuesday’s on the phone to Gil

 

Boy, I just love Macy’s Annual Spring Time Parade. Is that a float of Marty Moon?  God, that goatee looks nasty when it’s flying along in the Goodyear Blimp. And the Mudlark Mean Machine Marching Band is playing “Abbey Road”. Is that “Octopus’ Garden” or “Here Comes The Sun”? It’s “She Came in through the Bathroom Window”? I never would have guessed the way they’re doing the funky chicken and the “Disco Inferno”-oh, crap, we’re parading NAMES. Silly me.

Well, we HOPE Chet Ballard has learned his lesson and sits in the bleachers and lets Charlie play ball. No more getting on your computer and seeing if Eldrick Boston did his General Math homework and stayed academically eligible. Yes, Chet, Eldrick turned in his homework on improper fractions. No more raiding the Milford School Corporation Building Annex to check the files to see if the home plate umpire is an illegal alien. Naturally, knowing Thorpiverse, if T-verse ran out of toilet paper and/or plot ideas, I would to see what happened if he attempted to recycle either. I’M NOT going to separate the bodies and get germs on my hands. Mama didn’t raise a fool.

Then there’s Freddy Maloof. I don’t THINK he’s related to Eldrick Boston since we have no clue who either one is. We know they will form the right side of the infield and beyond that, it’s gonna be anyone’s guess. Par for the course when the plot is doing its usual stabbing in the dark.

Maybe Maloof is Boston in Arabic. They were separated at birth and wound up on Gil’s playground. I’ll have Chet look into that. Well, come to think of it, that might not be a great idea, even with the best intentions. We can eventually get to the heart of the matter and finding out they are twins without Chet engaging in The Great Train Robbery to obtain the info. Really, if Thorpiverse has Chet and Jesse James and his gang hijack an Amtrak to confirm the issue, I think we better instill the golf plot 2 months earlier. There’s stupid, then there’s Fred using a condom with Wilma because they both want to stop at Pebbles.

 

“Just get on, Gil”

“Shoot, he’s going to shoot it out of the handicapped lot if he wants to get on the green.”

 

She said she’d always been a reporter

She typed 15 words a day

And though she knew Gil was out of order

Well, she knew what she could not say

 

And so I quit this plot already

And got myself a steady job

She tried her best to keep things lively

But it sunk down to Spongebob

 

Didn’t anybody stop her

This was just a gap to fill

Sunday’s on the phone to Marty

Tuesday’s on the phone to Gil

Oh yeah

 

And I am no horticulturist by any stretch of the imagination but I do a lot of hiking, having  hiked part of The Appalachian Trail, The Long Trail, The Santa Fe Trail, Knobstone Trail (longest hiking trail in Indiana) , The River to River Trail in Illinois and I have yet to locate one tree growing on top of another tree like the one in P2. I guess if you brought your wheelbarrow, mulch, humus, peat moss, a couple of shovels, one of them a spade shovel, a trowel or two, some seeds and if you borrowed somebody’s elevator, you could perhaps grow an apple tree or a redwood on top of an elm tree or hackberry tree. I’ll let you explore the possibilities.

 

P3-“The trunk on that turnip tree growing from that row of generic trees behind me grew THIS wide.”

 

Gang, Gil is being a smartass, plain and simple. And again, even if Marjie rips her slacks climbing through Gil’s water closet window for a close-up on the team before she goes back into hibernation, Gil, she spared you a crucifixion. Chet easily could have been Judas Iscariot. He hung himself on his own computer, thanks to Marjie. He didn’t need a tree, either one standing by itself or piggy-backed on a sugar maple.

 

 

“And that wraps up the roll call on the Mudlark Baseball team. Thank God we had reams of teletype. We’ll be back for Gil’s final thoughts on the team after these messages. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

 

“Did someone run over your Doberman? Was your pet goldfish accidentally flushed down the toilet? Was Morris the Cat involved in a hit-and-run?

These and other nagging questions occur to us when we least expect it and when we are hit with a whopping funeral bill that takes a chunk out of the grocery budget, it leads to disaster. Skipping the Welch’s Grape Juice aisle for a month is no fun.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. Hello, this is Dr. Pearl for Milford Funeral Solutions. The grand people here have engineered affordable pet insurance solutions so you can have peace of mind while they’re lowering the casket 6 feet under.

For only $60 dollars a year, you can cover the cost of the burial box, burial plot, and a funeral service performed by the Salvation Army Band, they’ll even throw in the Wurlitzer. Isn’t it nice when Fido is lying in state that “When The Roll Is Called Up Yonder” is softly and tenderly performed by said musicians and they’re not on commission and the preacher is reading from an article written by Doctor Norman Vincent Peale in Guideposts about the Sanctity of the Spirit that your wallet won’t take a hit from lack of insurance.

Perhaps you would like to up the ante. Sometimes we have to go for broke like my husband as a colonel under General Burnside did at Antietem. He saved a lot of Union soldiers that way. And for $88 dollars a year, you can splurge and bring in a Christian Contemporary band from Milford Interdenominational Outreach. Selections from Andre Crouch’s sets include “Power in the Blood of the Lamb” and “I Just Want to Take a Little Time Right Now and Thank The Lord”. Perfect when you’re sniveling over your pet turtle that lived to be 245 years old. I was starting to wear braces then. And for an extra $10, they’ll throw in Menard’s Premium Crabgrass Preventer. There is really no logic in letting bad seed grow over your pet’s remains.

Do you want the premium? Yes, for $145 a year, Milford Funeral Solutions will call the preacher that runs the Milford Nightly Tent Meetings to perform the service while your Siamese cat is entering the Elysian Fields. And with two dozen white roses adorning the casket, you are most assuredly celebrating the life of your kitty. Milford Funeral Solutions is able to cut costs because they received them from “The Bachelor”, which was set to throw the roses in the dumpster after the show ordered too many. Fortune meeting Opportunity while marching to Zion.

Your pet deserves the best. With excellent insurance premiums that are less than renter’s insurance at Milford Condominium Golden Estates, you can set your mind at ease watching Rover or Rivets requiescat in pacem while the Doxology is being played. Come talk to the friendly staff at Milford Funeral Solutions and let your pet get a viewing and a funeral at an affordable cost so that you’re standing only when the Salvation Army Band is playing ‘Handel’s Messiah’.”

 

Thanks, Gang, for all your support, it means a lot-wait a minute, I hear somebody climbing through my window. Be right back.

 

“Just get on, Kaz.”

“My goodness, I’ve already climbed one tree. I gotta climb that dead bag of branches TOO?”

 

SHE CAME IN THROUGH THE BATHROOM WINDOW

Gil temporarily suspending “Abbey Road” on his Close ‘n’ Play

“Mimi, you could have used the front door. It was unlocked.”

 

 

 

April 6, 2020

I’ve Seen Prairie Style Windows From Both Sides Now

Filed under: baseball, Gil Thorp, Marjie Ducey, Prairie Style Windows — nedryerson @ 6:08 am

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Forecast of snow? A lot of speed? Did I just walk in on a drug deal here? Of course not. There’s no room for that kind of excitement here. What do you think this is, Mary Worth? No, it’s time for Gil to go down the roster with Marjie in a little segment we like to call Gil Goes Down The Roster With Marjie Ducey.

We just met the pitcher, Mark Godleski, who carpools with one of the outfielders, Mark Knappe (aka The Mayor), a wiseass who chugs milk and cereal from a sports bottle. This makes him interesting.

The remaining two outfielders are well known to us here at TWIM. We have Chance Macy who was stealing carries from Charlie Roh last fall, much to the chagrin of Chet Ballard. Then we have Tiki Jansen, who Chet Ballard was trying to get kicked out of Milford High for not meeting residency requirements in the summer. Wow, we had a lot of Chet Ballard face planting last year.

Always last, of course, is catcher Hiawatha James. Hiawatha James never gets a story line. We’ve seen him scoring points on the field and taking part in some locker room banter, but so far we haven’t seen him run afoul of Chet Ballard or do any of the other two or three things that bring you into the foreground of Gil Thorp “action”.

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