This Week in Milford

March 18, 2020

Smack My Snitch Up


Sorry to be so late on today’s post. We may all be confined to quarters but our work hasn’t stopped.

Rubin’s poor clock management has pushed him further into the no-huddle offense. We jump from Gil giving Dr. Pearl her marching orders out of the star chamber to the results of those orders: Teddy on lockdown at Casa DeMarco. Chris may not be there to beat up on Teddy, but Hiawatha, Marcel and Tom hiding behind the door there might be a bit more willing.

At least we finally get hints as to what bug Teddy’s had up his ass about Chris. It’s been six years shorter than the one Alexa had for Chris, so unlikely it had anything to do with Jeopardy! Did Chris pass over Teddy when picking sides for flag football in PE class? Make fun of his hair? Or is it just ’cause Chris is a good team player and just so goshdarn smart?

Whatever its I’m sure it will be as stupid and underwhelming as every other plot device we’ve seen this winter. Bring on baseball, as this’ll be the only place we see it for a while. Can’t wait to see if Valley Tech will put someone in their scoreboard to steal the Mudlarks’ signs and beat on a garbage can.


March 7, 2020

Snitchin’ to Rollins


We’ve come to that time in just about every Gil Thorp arc in which Rubin realizes he hasn’t paced worth a damn and he has to cram a week’s worth of action into a single strip and starts rushing the plot ahead without filling in the details. If this was football season we’d call it the two minute drill, but since it’s basketball season let’s call it throwing up treys and fouling. It’s late in the day and I know most of you TWIMers have probably seen today’s strip already, so I’m gonna rush through this much as Rubin did. Okay? Okay!

P1: I know that AP Chemistry midterm must be hard but, come on, it’s nothing to lose your head over! Maybe this isn’t AP Chem but American Lit and that kid under the first dialog box is acting out “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.”

P2: Neither the Milford boys nor the girls are making the playdowns ’cause they don’t score enough, so let’s sweep these games under the rug, shall we? Boy, that Marcell Irby sure is lanky!

P3: DeMarco is dropping in on Steve Harvey Mr. Rollins who, I’m assuming, is the AP Chem teacher. Couldn’t tell from that poor excuse for a periodic table behind his head. We know he’s gonna dime out Schuring; what we don’t know yet is how Schuring’s gonna get his name cleared. Something tells Gil will intervene (heaven knows he hasn’t been busy coaching) and Schuring’s word will be taken because athlete. Then we get a throwaway panel or two telling us why DeMarco’s had beef. Maybe Teddy has a low self opinion.


Then Alexa and Chris walk down a hallway, then it’s on to baseball. Hang on for the thrilling conclusion, folks!

February 6, 2020

“‘The Invisible Player’ Will Not Be Seen Tonight So That WDIG May Present The Following Special, ‘Mudlark Basketball’.”


“I’m in my own world when I put on my football helmet. How to drive, draw, and dish. How many quarters I’m going to need for my laundry at the Milford 24-Hour Laundromat and Tanning Clinic. How much Coppertone I’m going to need when I’m under the heat lamp while my Dickies work pants are going through the ‘rinse’ cycle. What piece I’m going to change into when the pawn reaches the 8th square after I’ve queened a couple other pieces when I’m playing Coach Thorp in his office. What to do when Coach Thorp takes the name of the Lord in vain and slams the chessboard on Kaz’s head, who’s been kibbutzing the match, and says I cheated when my pawn captured en passant. Sometimes competitive juices go a little overboard.”

“I understand, but how do you use a helmet in basketball?”

“Coach is still mad from the match and the refs understood. As long as I had medical clearance, I was good to go.”


Okay, so for the moment, I’m going to pretend that Hamlet is in a mini-soliloquy and that he is agonizing through another “To be or not to be” phase, overlapping through Alexa’s own troubling phase. I still think we oughta go back to basketball and if neither one is carrying out instructions that have CLEARLY been stated the last 3 weeks, then bench them and get somebody who WILL carry them out, but in Thorpiverse, all the world’s a basketball court and players are the actors.

“O Romeo, Romeo, where art thou, Romeo?”

“Working on a pick-and-roll with Mercutio. The Capulets have been packing it in so I need to establish my perimeter game then hit Mercutio or Benvolio down low when Potpan is overplaying me.”


If you need a place to live, check out Iroquois Gardens Apartments. This place has been PERFECT for doing this comedy blog. I can concentrate because of the great atmosphere and great furnishings. Nice to hit the microwave when I’m running dry on ideas. Factor in a super neighborhood with easy access to a lot of stores and restaurants and I’m the luckiest man alive. The cost is pretty darn affordable too. Sounds like excellent living to me. Head to the office and meet Melody Bland and Haley Strickland, great property managers, and their friendly staff and explore all the opportunities that they have in store. You won’t regret it.

Support Small Business, Gang. You need to go where everyone knows your name. They know mine.


WHAT IS THIS??????? What does he mean “inside my helmet”? I THINK the implication is that he is like Simon & Garfunkel’s tune “I Am a Rock” whenever he puts on the chin straps, doing what rocks do, i.e., nothing to attract or warrant attention. Both he and Alexa would be perfect in a church gravel parking lot if we’re going to go that far.

I just let the cars go by, I wouldn’t want to be like the asphalt or the cement mixer and do anything to make a spectacle of myself. The UPS truck can’t make deliveries to the church office if I don’t hold up my end of the bargain and look stupid and stony-faced. Let somebody else sign their John Henry with the Etch-a-Sketch pencil on the scanner they hand to you when somebody needs to sign off on the 10 packages of L’eggs being delivered to the church secretary. There’s no “I” in the word “Rock”.


Don’t make me shoot

I only want to rebound

I am shielded by the backkkkkk-board

Mimi won’t get off me

I’m happy to draw a charge

I’m sick and tired of this lousy wannabe sarge

I am a Rock

I am a Mudlark


And I THINK Chris has been molded by Gil into one of those “Set it and forget it” ovens we see at your friendly neighborhood department store all the time (Wal-Mart, Target, for example) . That would not be surprising. Gil has been in a “Draw the play then go play golf” mode for eons. Don’t lay your Stouffer’s 8-Servings Lasagna in the microwave, then expect Gil to be around when the beeper finally goes off after 16 minutes. If he has been an absentee landlord for basketball et al. longer than the USA Basketball team refusing their Silver Medals at the 1972 Olympics, what makes you think he’s going to be around when the lasagna finally cools off so that your tongue won’t get 3rd-degree burns from the heat? Don’t wait for him to take the first bite or pour Lawry’s Sea Salt all o ver the lasagna. Remember, you have 7 servings, assuming you served yourself. You can always feed the next-door neighbor and your dogs.

Therefore, once Chris does indeed put on his helmet and sets the oven on autopilot, I shudder.


“Gil, the wiring in his head went haywire. The ‘Set and forget it’ button was connected to the ‘defrost’ function’.”

“Damn, and I had a golf scramble this afternoon.”


I’ve set screens

A buttock deep and mighty

That none may penetrate

I have no need for shooting

Shooting causes pain

Five-footers and it’s free throws I disdain

I am a Rock

I am a Mudlark


First off, P2 has to display the most obvious crotch shot in quite some time. Boy, if you want to learn how to outline the Golden Gate Bridge at Milford School of Architecture & Design, you have to take baby steps. Learning how to draw Felix the Cat’s private parts is crucial to the final steps in engineering the amount of tonnage the cables will sustain in San Francisco rush hour traffic. Factor of safety means everything. Watching Wilma Flintstone bend over when she’s loading the dryer ran by some talking pterodactyl will go a long way in doing a rough draft on the Chesapeake Bay Tunnel-Bridge. Sign me up.

Moving on from the obvious, so to speak, we are getting into the esoteric part of the strip today. Not sure if my Social Psych course I took when I was freshman will help me here but here goes. My guess is that she prefers Chris to take the center stage since she’s happy being a combo rebounder-defense kind of a player. Fair enough. I don’t know a coach who would not want a player willing to do the dirty work for the team.

And if this was The Brady Bunch, we would applaud Greg for taking one for the team. Never mind that Susan Willcox-Olsen (or Olson, flip a coin) a/k/a Cindy Brady is on the same roster. Pretend that it’s Co-ed Basketball and guys can only shoot with the opposite hand, unless the opposing coach raises any objections and then the shooter has to use the other hand the rest of the game.  A lot better than the Thorpiverse scenario which is possibly heading us straight into the Grand Canyon without a parachute. Usually if someone utters a remark that’s supposed to be pivotal to the plot and/or season as Alexa is uttering in P2, we are opening ourselves up (unfortunately) to a Pandora’s Box of possibilities. Bet on it.

She’s not shooting wide-open 2 footers because she’s competing with Chris for Valedictorian???? She heaves cross-court passes because Chris got an “A” in Trig and she got a ‘B+’???? She’d rather rebound than perform a breakaway slam because Chris was the keynote speaker at the Milford Academic Awards Banquet and she just passed out the programs at the door???? Recluses shouldn’t spike the punch, Alexa.

Stay tuned for this Brady Bunch episode where Cindy and Alice have to talk Alexa out of hiding in the hamper because Chris fed Greg for the 3-point play. I think you know which part of this paragraph smells of dirty laundry.


Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Fined Heavily At His Condo By The Milford Health Department!!!!!!!!!!!

sub headline

“I set the timer on the oven to 1 hour for my Taco Bell Liver ‘n’ Onion Limburger Chimichanga but got a disconnect from Milford Gas & Electric 23 minutes later while I went to visit friends.”


Don’t talk of offense

But I’ve heard the words before

It’s sleeping at the halfcourt line


I won’t disturb the slumber of Mimi’s give-and-go

If I never shot, I swat it second row

I am a Rock

I am a Mudlark


I remember reading something in my vast MAD collection where an article pointed out, essentially, that you should worry when… and the article talked about different situations. I laughed when one scene stated in the caption that you should worry when a player from the opposing team pats you on the fanny after a great play, then keeps his hand on your fanny the remained of the game, the scene showing the victimized player in consternation as the opposing player has his hand firmly entrenched on the victim’s butt.

So I am not going to comment today when Alexa has here hand firmly implanted on Phoebe’s 1) Shoulder Blade 2) Milford Sporting Goods Sportsbra 3) Dorsal part of an elongated collarbone 4) Sunburn from memorizing integrals in Calculus II and setting the sun lamp and forgetting it at the Milford Tanning Clinic 5) All of the above.

I’d be wondering too.

And before the season ends, the Milford Shuffleboard Society may be able to change the floor back to a basketball court. It just has to let the floor dry once the lines are sandpapered off. Sandblast it and forget it. The whole thing should be ready to go once our heroines are finished with their Folger’s moment.


“We will return for the conclusion of Marcel Proust’s A La Recherche du Temps Perdu or Fast Times at Milford High after these messages.”

“Honeyyyyyyyyy, I’m hornyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!! It’s time to come to beddy-byyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Hold on, Mrs, Shaw. I’m still applying to Milford School of Architecture & Design. They said I can take a correspondence course at 1/3 the tuition if I can draw 10 crotch shots that’ll meet the Board of Directors’ satisfaction.”

“There’s a crotch that needs to meet my satisfaction and you don’t have to draw Johnny Quest’s you-know-what to get it.”

“How’d you know what I was drawing?”

“Darling, put the wittle pencil down and come wid your play thingee cuz she’s got a surpwizzzee for you.”

“An 8 x 11 of Calvin & Hobbes when the camera zooms too close?”


“Damn!!!!!!!! I was close!!!!!!! Okay, a crotch shot of Popeye beatin’ Wimpy’s ass after Wimpy ate too many Bucket Burgers.”

“Actually, Popeye would trade spinach for this anyday.”

“WHAT?????? NO WAY!!!!!!!! Popeye ain’t gettin’ my sketches of Pogo Possum, I don’t care how many Bucket Burgers he pries out of Wimpy’s butt. The Registrar at the School said I can fudge a couple of drawings since Pogo and Winnie the Pooh don’t have anything in between.”

“Honey, at the rate you’re going, you  have something in common with them.”

“Winnie the Pooh and Spiderman can leap from building to building?”

“It was time to put down the blue pencil and face the facts. I had a clog worse than the sewer out front and we both knew it. But the Milford Men’s Clinic saved the day with Miracle Rush 3500, a state-of-the-art drug that’ll unclog Erectile Dysfunction quicker than you can say ‘Hoover Dam’. Come get out of your own logjam down at the Clinic. Me and my wife have had several major crotch shots and you can too. Paradise begins when the traffic congestion ends.”

Thanks for all your patience, Gang. I still wonder where Alexa is putting her arm as long as caffeine is the order of the day. I love coffee but I always keep my hands to myself.


Today’s Black History Month installment is actually about 2 persons, gentlemen I discussed last year. At the risk of rehashing, I felt their contributions were too significant to not be talked about once again.

Booker T. Washington and William Edward Burghardt Du Bois were men who arguably have contributed, if not the most, then a lot to the credibility of their race.

Washington was a very humble Christian man who founded The Tuskegee Institute, based on the notion that if the Black Man were to progress in the Upward March of Humanity, he had to learn a trade. He stuck to that notion until the day he died and it paid off in a mighty way. For example, if we sent a Man to the Moon, we have engineers from Tuskegee to thank, who contributed their part to see it happen. Washington’s dream was not in vain.

On the other end of the spectrum was Du Bois. He felt that a man learning a trade was limiting himself to bigger possibilities that could only be revealed through college, particularly the Liberal Arts Program. A well-rounded man was able to think better and handle the complexities that society threw at the Human Race. True to his word, he was the first African-American to earn a Doctorate from Harvard. The man was brilliant, Gang.

Whichever side you choose to take, please join me in saluting two men who have been a HUGE asset to the Human Race as well as their own.



I have my coach

And his assistant to protect me


Oops, better stop. I don’t wanna wind up in the doghouse over false advertising.


Why the Bulls were dominant in the ’90’s


“Ref, I want Jordan shooting with the other hand. No way can he get 59 points by being honest.”

“No problem, Gil.”

January 23, 2020

I Suppose That’s Better Than Being A Male Gil Thorp.

Filed under: actual action, basketball — tdrewhardin @ 9:17 am


It seems that both teams are gathering steam as both teams have collected wins recently.

But I say that with reservations. The girls team won because Cindy was tired of Jan hogging the ball and Marcia wouldn’t shoot the rock even if Marcia could shake hands with the backboard so Cindy decided to be Reggie Miller. When the plot has to BOOM BABY out of Central, I’m not holding my breath that we’ll see closure to Gil’s Experiment With Some Tweaking By Mimi Who Went The Threats Of Hard Labor At Milford Salt Mines To Get Alexa To Pounce When The Deer Ain’t Looking Route any time soon.

In other words, we still have Alexa and her avoidance to the rim to deal with and I’m sure the readership is just absolutely pumped to see all the ways Mimi can motivate Alexa. We’ve already seen Mimi use a fraternity paddle on Alexa’s posterior and we’ve seen Mimi quoted as saying that scoring in basketball is like scoring in the Verbal portion of the SAT. That’s right, Coach, I get it. If I bring 20 #2 pencils to the next SAT testing site at the Milford High School Auditorium, not only will I ace the Analogy section, because I’d hate for the lead to break when I’m answering PLOT is to BARREN as GIL is to ____________, but I can use the spare #2’s to diagram a backdoor play on your clipboard. Heck, you only use it to spank the players when they fall asleep during the huddle anyway.

“Here, Alexa, get the Bucket Burger. It’s on the rim. You gotta make the free throw to get it down. Getting fouled in the late-going to stop the clock never tasted so good.”

Mimi, I think you better revamp the menu on this one.


I am saddened to announce the recent passing of Neil Peart, drummer nonpareil of Rush. He could just flat-out perform. If he wasn’t the best drummer in the world, he was a World-Class Drummer. Just listen to All The World’s a Stage, Rush’s live album, and you’ll hear what I mean. He put on a clinic on that disc. And he was also a classy guy, very much a Renaissance man with a variety of interests. Just your next-door neighbor with a VERY special gift. This teenager used to sit for hours listening to you on “2112” or “Fly By Night”. God bless you, Neil. Look forward to listening to you more in Heaven.


“Ladies and Gentlemen, Ice-Skating Duo Contestant #14 will perform their dance routine, the Rumba, to the tune “Looking Through The Eyes of Love, that’s right, the “Theme from ‘Ice Castles'” in the Dance Portion of the Compe-”


That or Milford City Council has passed an ordinance allowing Same-Sex Marriage.

Speaking as a Christian, I am understandably against the concept. However, I also believe in Freedom of Speech as stated in the U.S. Constitution. As Voltaire once said, I may not agree with what you have to say but will defend your right to say it. Me to a T.

That said, if basketball action is confined to a pseudo-wedding ceremony and the Rubber Band Man pulling down rebounds under the watchful eyes of several UFO’s, I cringe what the Playdowns will look like, assuming the Mudlarks make it that far. Synchronized Pick-Up Basketball on a floor Steve Luhm applied several kegs of Turtle Wax when he ran out of a pallet-load of Grecian Formula? I don’t think Thorpiverse will eliminate the flying saucers buzzing around but no more gray streaks at the free throw line extended.


“The basket is our friend, Alexa. There’s no need to be afraid of it. Now eat all your vegetables and you’ll see a picture of Dominique Wilkins doing a poster job on Hank Finkel. ”


Because I was quizzical when I saw a sign at a Chinese Food restaurant stating “Under New Management”


Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Developers Corporation To Buy Joe’s Cantonese Shack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“A spokesperson for MDC said a wine bistro in the family room is in the planning stages.”


Hand me down my quill and scroll

Hand me my notepad

You and me, we’re goin’ out

To learn skills from Coach Gil’s Pad

He’ll teach me how to shoot and score

And rebound crazy mad

Guaranteed to wow the fans

My game will be superbad


You never played the game until you listen to the Rubber-Hair Man

Can’t dunk the basketball till ya soak it in from the Rubber-Hair Man

The other team will lose control when they face the Rubber-Hair

Rubber-Hair Man

Doodoo doo doo doo doodoo


Doodoo doo doo doo doodoo

Dit dit dit



Coach Thorp, you tell your Special Project not too many moons ago to strike while the iron’s hot, not that that’s not inspirational advice guaranteed to make even Hank Finkel up his game from best 12th man in the NBA to 11th man in the same.

But all we’re getting out of it is Chris still disposing the rock to his teammates while simultaneously shooting a non-inspirational 4-for-9 and a P1 caption that could fit on a 3-place ribbon in the Milford Soap Box Derby accompanying the worst fist bump drawn by Thorpiverse?  Don’t let the sparks from Muench’s and Schuring’s fists try to jump my Sears Die-Hard, puh-lease. I’ll concede I’d try it on my model train set. It could juice up the engine on a cold day.

Or maybe those might be the equivalent Finkel’s numbers when Havlicek’s in foul trouble. Yeah, that’s it, lukewarm basketball but the Celtics go on to win. Pounce when ready, saith the Rubber-Hair Man.


“You passed up the winning lay-up?????? Go to your room!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”


And after hours of observation, I can safely conclude a couple of things. First, Marcell Irby indeed had a solid game but, c’mon, if this sideshow-soap opera is to continue, we can’t have needless distractions such as this. Guys puttin’ up the numbers get in the way of guys flippin’ off the coach’s advice. What’s the point on teaching a guy to finish on a 3-on-2 on a skating rink when we’re bogged down by guys who want to win. Man, Marcell, go play for the Hickory Huskers.

Second, I know it’ll be an adjustment not playing under a tipi like in P2 but again, as Coach Norman Dale will tell you, the basket is 15 feet at Hickory’s gym too.


Once I went to hear him preach

At a gym outside of town

I was tantalized

I was hypnotized

At the dregs the coach put down

When I saw this lardhead don

Stretch a lesson to his charge

Hey, I laughed so hard

‘Cause the coach got down

When the rubbish stretched too large


You never broke a press till you heard the Rubber-Hair Man

Don’t know how to work the refs till you imitate the Rubber-Hair Man

Don’t let the game get out of control, seek the Rubber-Hair

Rubber-Hair Man


Doodoo doo doo, etc.

Ball bounced off his rubber hair

Then he deflated it and stashed it in his underwear

Guaranteed to blow your mind

Talkin’ ’bout basketball, yet losing time

How in the world did he get this job

Lord, help him get away


P3 just absolutely takes the cake. These are the premises for a Phillips Milk of Magnesia commercial

“Wow, Marcell, you had a monster game last week against Oolitic. What happened?”

“Coach Dale told me to go down to Hickory Apothecary and get some Ex-Lax. I was constipated from all those Bucket Crawdads I ate at the Hickory VFW Social.”

“Baby, baby, I like the way you shake and bake.”

“With X-Lax, I’m not the only one moving without the ball. And I don’t have to learn from Coach Thorp how to dunk while on skates. I’ll let the Bud Light Daredevils figure out how to jump off a trampoline with skates and do a windmill. Coach Dale coaches real basketball.”

“That’s my man. How ’bout a date Friday night?”



At the Milford Girls Gym at 1:00AM one night

“Oh, come on, Alexa, seals eat fish all the time when they jump through the hoop. And that was a good play underneath.”


“And that’s the game. The final score, Milford, 67, Oakwood, 54. I’ll have final stats in a moment. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

In aisle two of the Milford Beverage Warehouse, Coach Kaz turns a corner


Coach Kaz’s cart collides with the cart of Mr. Dr. Pearl

“Hey, you got your Jack Daniels all over my Gil Thorp Bar-B-Q tub!!!!!!!!!!!”

“And you have your Gil Thorp Pure Pork Italian Sausage all over my Sutter Home Wine!!!!!!!!!!!!”


“Folks, it took a while to sort this one out. Fortunately, both of them had coupons, so no harm, no foul. And Mr. Dr. Pearl didn’t get sausage patties all over his Hersheys Dark Almond bars so no need to call an attorney.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse and while they wuz sortin’, the craziest thing happened. I took a test run at the laboratories at Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage Enterprises and the scientists confirmed that it was not only safe to mix a bottle of Jack with my secret recipe Bar-B-Q, that it was healthy and nutritious. And the response from our customers was overwhelming.

Now don’t quit buying Wheaties but let me tell you that Jack Daniels Whiskey smoked into our Bar-B-Q at our huge hickory-smoked oven that you could fit your Cessna when you’re doing business trips paid dividends. In short, the results were fantastic.

The melt-in-your-mouth flavors really fire up the belly and our customers agree and have said so through our fan base and emails. Everywhere from church picnics to company Christmas dinners have sampled the merchandise and keep beggin’ for more. With the profits soaring from Gil Thorp Jack Daniels Sprayed Old-Fashioned Bar-B-Q, I don’t mind people asking if I can spare a dime.

That’s why Milford Beverage Warehouse and Menards have gotten in on the act. For every Broyhill Rustic Design Commode or Kohler High Seat Curve White at the everyday price of $189.99 that you purchase from Menard’s, Milford Beverage Warehouse will kick in a free container of Gil ‘n’ Jack Bar-B-Q. No better time than to throw out that old contraption that your grandma used to flush. Why wait until the water floods over into your neighbor’s yard? When it overflows from a Charmin Floral Print, it’s time to switch potties.

There’ll be plenty of commodes to choose from up at the front of the store by the magazine rack and friendly salesmen to help you make the transition. And there’s free installation!

People, that sounds like a Square Deal to me. No better way to celebrate a new phase in your life than sittin’ on that new phase, sippin’ on a Jack and chaser, readin’ The New Yorker after a heapin’ helpin’ of Gil ‘n’ Jack and some cole slaw and mac ‘n’ cheese. Starving kids in China can’t get to a toilet, let alone Bar-B-Q.

Come get your own reading room and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”


At the SAT Test Site in Milford High School Auditorium

“Hmmmmmmmm, it comes down to INCOMPETENT or IONIZED. Oh well, I’ll just flip a coin.”


“And Skating Duo #14 will be performing a barnyard dance to the guitar stylings of Duane Eddy…”


Thanks again for your patience, Gang. One of these days, I promise I’ll shoot when open.

December 28, 2019

Schur Shot

Filed under: basketball, big arms, Gil Thorp, Pantheon of Hair — teenchy @ 3:49 pm


That’s “Schur” as in “Schuring” not as in “Diane” (whose last name is spelled “Schuur” and whose vocals are orders of magnitude smoother than this action) and it’s Schuring who’s getting set up for the final shot.

Leonard “Don’t Call Me Vern” Fleming sends a pass past the Tigers’ man-bunned defender to Marcell Irby, who either magically changed jersey numbers from one panel to the next (he’s been #45 every time we’ve seen him this season to date) or was the recipient of a screen from the unnamed #40. Either way the outcome of the game will rest in Chris Schuring’s hands and we’ll hang on this cliff until Monday.

On the odd chance, faithful reader, that you’re not checking this post until the day after I posted it, I’ll leave you this musical tidbit to tie the room together.


December 26, 2019

His Head Is Cupcake City, Baby.

Filed under: actual action, basketball, Just plain sad, Pantheon of Mysterious Objects — tdrewhardin @ 8:43 am


Old-timers like me will remember how popular Ann Landers and Abigail Van Buren(“Dear Abby”) were back in the ’60’s, ’70’s, and ’80’s. They were twin sisters who did separate advice columns for their respective newspapers which ran nationwide on the syndicate route, not sure which one ran in the morning and which one ran in the evening. At any rate, they had an understandably spirited rivalry which turned bitter from time to time which newspaper companies loved because it got the readership they wanted. Advice on topics that were many times controversial plus occasional finger-pointing at each other? Hell, yeah, the newspaper industry loved it because that package just SOLD.

That said, I remember as a kid in the ’70’s when my sister and I are reading Ann Landers (or Dear Abby, can’t remember which) and this one woman writes to say how she and her mom are engaged in furious combat because her mom is angry at her because this daughter-writer won’t wear a bra. Get off my case, Mom, I’m a liberated woman, was the gist of the letter. Her mom shoots back that she’ll get Cooper’s Droop and wind up in Hell.

Well, I don’t think she was at Judgment Day, bra-less, victimized by sagging gourds being told “Depart from me, for I never knew you”, but we learned from Ann Landers, after my sister and I are finished laughing our butts off,  that Cooper’s Droop is an actual term and that if you could lodge a pencil under your breast and it stayed there all day, you definitely were inflicted with the concept.

I can’t remember the advice Ann Landers gave but she and Dear Abby were popular because many times their advice was sound and Ann’s response to this letter was no exception.

With that in mind, if that net in P1 doesn’t have a serious case of Cooper’s Droop, I need to stop writing on this site and pick up where Dear Abby left off (“Dear T. Drew, my coach, Gil Thorp, coaches like his brain has Cooper’s Droop…”) . Marcell is dunking on what was once a waste can in Gil’s office. How Gil ever managed to rip the ring off the can and attach a mesh that was once Mimi’s dress is truly an engineering feat of the 21st century. I’ll have to keep those techniques in mind when I’m building a basketball goal in my backyard. Dunk away, Irby, you’re a part of history. Oh, and tie game, that’s a bonus.


Shout-out to Nikki Rand of Louisville who works as a driver at Pizza Hut on Lower Hunters Trace and Dixie Highway. Her go-getter attitude is contagious and her determination to succeed is truly a blessing and makes the company a better store. She also catches on quick so when orders and food items need to be invoiced, she does it efficiently and intelligently. I can see her as a leader in the future. She represents America because she is a smart cookie who wants to do the job right. Gang, next time you see her, salute her. She has my respect as to what America needs.


Then, Gang, we have another entry in Pantheon of Mysterious Objects. Thorpiverse would have you believe that that is a light on the ceiling, enlightening the scene, Cooper’s Droop-inflicted baskets with glass backboards included.

Thorpiverse has you fooled.

You’re not pulling one over my eyes, Thorpiverse. We know that it is either a gigantic cake pan that the Betty Crocker cement truck from time to time fills with tons of cake mix to make, for example, wedding cakes to accomodate the Wedding at Cana the constituents of which are watching the game when Mudlar-K-Cola isn’t being turned into wine or Lost in Space truly got lost and landed in Springfield by mistake. Oh, well, might as well watch a Springfield schmuck get Cooper’s Drooped on, courtesy of Marcell Irby. Gil’s waste basket won’t have a cigar stub in its container after Irby does some serious flushing on that Droopy of a goal.

“Hello, Toommm and Jeerrrryyy, my nammmeee is Drooopppyyy-”


And the guy pumping the fist is certainly displaying his seal of approval. I’d hate to know that he is not a member of the small contingent of Mudlark fans attending the game and is turncoating and Cooper’s Drooping the Springfield fan base. Be true to your school, the Beach Boys used to always say.


If yore bloodhound’s ears are infect-id with Cooper’s Droop and yuz can hide yore ammo in his ear flaps fer days until bow season fer coons cuz yore bloodhound’s ears contains more tics and tapeworms than the flea medicine frum Milford Veterinary Clinic kin handle, ya might be a redneck.


Gang, those of you who follow the NBA should be familiar with this rule called the “Mark Jackson Backdown Rule”. As a Pacer point guard during the ’90’s, Jackson would back his man down in the paint for up to 15 seconds per possession. Bearing in mind that the Pacers only had 9 seconds to shoot and hit iron (24-second shot clock, remember) and that it was generally boring basketball to watch a guy bulldoze his way to the bucket methodically, the NBA implemented the rule I mentioned above. The lowdown was a player could not play with his back to the basket while dribbling the ball when he was below the free throw line for more than 5 seconds. The rule essentially was a 5-second possession violation overall (i.e., mainly in high school and college, the bottom line was pass it or shoot it within 5 seconds or it was a turnover) and helped make the game a lot more exciting. It was annoying to watch a lot of players steamrolling the opposition with the ball and even MORE annoying when all this bull-in-a-china-shop ballhandling didn’t result in a score. Fans would stomach a bully with the roundball if it meant a dunk, otherwise…

But that’s what’s on the table today as Chris “Shaq in a china shop” Schuring is about to back down Herman “Apple Top” Munster IV in a key possession. And Shaq might have gotten away with several knockdowns in the 3-second area (though I highly respected his game) but no way did Shaq EVER grace the floor, either as a Magic or a Laker displaying those ugly socks Chris has on. Did he raid his mom’s lingerie drawer and drag out some L’Eggs from the ’70’s and dance with John Travolta under the disco ball in those things?

And surely Appleknocker Pate doesn’t have his hand on Chris’ derriere. We’re worrying profusely about the trapezoidal footwear without being concerned that if the refs don’t call hand-checking, the defense of the dribbler might get a little more personal. If ol’ Apple Knob’s Cooper’s Droop extends to his hands, Chris might be literally caught with his pants down while backing his man down in the paint. I’m gonna go groovin’ so ya better get movin’, indeed.


Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Cochran Rushed To Milford General After Head Caught In Trunk While Loading Case Briefs!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“O.J.: I told him one of these days that Fuji Apple would get him killed. A lotta times, he used to bang his head on my condo entrance.”


Now allow me to pick apart P3 because I know it’s a little confusing. Chris is wanting you to THINK that the Springfield player has the ball and he’s wanting the Springfield players to think the Springfield player has the ball but actually he is threading the needle for a DALE DAVIS DUNK (Boyle, you and Slick worked that to a frenzy) while Spike Lee is sitting with Mimi in the stands, right behind Joe Fan’s sit-down crotch shot, yelling SOMEONE GET ON MILLER, and Chris wants you and the Springfield defense to THINK that the Springfield player is going to steal the ball and go down the other end for a DALE DAVIS dunk while the nearest Mudlark has Cooper’s Droop in his jock strap but actually that pass will glance off of Spike Lee’s goatee and ricochet to the Milford center for a MARCELL IRBY DUNK and resulting in Cooper Drooping even more and that Gil’s waste basket will become a Nerfhoop for his kids to play with in the hallway of their home, the damn thing so bent out of shape and resembling Apple Top’s sneakers but that’s the way Coach Thorp drew it up in the playbook.

Would you like for me to repeat that?


Mark Boyle and Bobby “Slick” Leonard broadcasting the Mudlarks

“…there appears to be some consternation as the Springfield player got his hair caught in the rim while executing an 180. I’ve never seen anything like that, Slick.”

“Boy o boy, Mark, Artis Gilmore performed some nasty windmills when I was coaching the Pacers against him in the ABA but he never got his afro stuck in Gil’s waste basket.”

“This is REALLY Cooper’s Droop as the Springfield guy is hanging out in no-man’s land. Looks like the Knicks after Reggie drained a 3 on ’em. Slick, I think we better go to a commercial break, with the score after 3, Springfield, 49, Milford, 47. We’ll be for the 4th quarter in a moment.”


Because I’m still a little fuzzy on the concept of Direct Cremation that a local funeral home is advertising

“Nobody likes to think about dying. Lord knows after several centuries, it could be any day before My Lord and Savior calls me Home.

Hello, this is Dr. Pearl with Milford Funeral Solutions and I have some wonderful news for you. You may choke the chicken eventually but at Milford Funeral Solutions you will not be left high and dry when they burn your dead corpse at the stake.

Milford Funeral Solutions works with the latest advanced technology when you or a loved one wish to be cremated. The Puro-Fire Technique assures those in doubt that the Dearly Departed will dearly depart. No mess, no loose bones in the casket after emerging from the crematorium. Fires that would burn the country of Uganda on a rainy day laced with a chemical, phenyltetraheliomethanol, guarantee that nobody’s rear end will be singed while entering the Elysian Fields. According to an article in the current Milford Mortuary Science Monthly, one funeral home was compelled to use a Zippo lighter to finish the task at hand.  I’m not sure how you feel about this but if my second cousin-twice-removed-fifth-generation had to be soaked in Match-Lite to start the grill, his service as an armed guard in the Peasants’ Revolt came to naught. Leave Indirect Cremation for the grilled barbecue chicken at your family reunion.

And cost is no problem. Easy payment plans are available to sustain the distress you go through, knowing that your relative will literally be going up in smoke. Bring in 2 pay stubs from your job plus your latest tax returns and financing a funeral pyre is a snap. Your relative is a good as reduced to ashes in Gil’s waste basket.

Come see for yourself and see why Milford Funeral Solutions says “You earned ’em, we burned ’em.”


Gang, it’s all yours. I’m going to diagram that play in P3 and see if we can reverse the ball.


“That took a nasty cut. You might want to shave it off and let it grow back. Reggie will be out of town for 3 months, you oughta be good.”


“Mimi, if you’re not careful, you’re going to get Cooper’s Droop.”

“Gil, I have plenty of Playtex’s in the bureau. Quit your whining.”

“I was talking about your basketball season.”

December 24, 2019

Betcha Can’t Muench Just One.

Filed under: actual action, basketball, Marty Moon — tdrewhardin @ 10:47 am


Gang, I hope and pray all of you have a very Merry Christmas. Let God shower you with gifts and blessings. It is a time to rejoice and spend time with family and friends. May the Holiday Season be a Season of Joy.

For me, as a Christian, it is an opportunity to remember the Birth of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He has done SO MUCH for me that I couldn’t continue to write this blog without mentioning that. I am nothing without Him. As much as I love goodies in my stocking, it is also a time to celebrate His Peace and Presence. Amazing how it all goes hand in hand.

However you worship, be true to the God you serve and take time out from your schedule to celebrate.

I am thankful for YOU, Gang. You mean so much to me. I am nothing without you TWIMers.


Interesting that Marty Moon mentions Thomas Muench as one of the starters. Now if you’re going to pronounce that the German way, pucker your lips as tightly as you can and say the word “cheese”. Now take that sound and apply it to that name, everything else like “munch” but adding in that sound I just mentioned. That’s the best German on tap.

The name is actually in place of an umlaut that is supposed to be placed over the “u” and the name was originally “Munch” with that umlaut included. My guess would be that when Germans immigrated, it was easier to Americanize and drop the umlaut and add the letter “e” and pronounce it like “Meench”. Pronunciation took the lazy route(ha) .

But that’s how “Kuebler” like “Keebler elves” got to be pronounced. Again, it was easier to cut the Gordian knot and make it easier for everyone to sound out, American or otherwise. Another good example is Koehler (German for “coal miner”) , only this time the umlaut got removed from the “o” (if you want to pronounce the umlauted “o”, pucker your lips halfway and say “shay”) and the name got pronounced like KAY-ler.


Now as long as Marty Moon is going to be lazy himself and sound like he got his brain taken out of him like the gorillas did on The Planet of the Apes: The Year They Conquered WDIG, he can at least go the way of Chris Berman. The dude was great for ESPN with all his nicknames he gave the baseball players when he was recapping the game a la “…and Babe ‘They named a candy bar after me’ Ruth hits one deep to left field off of Randy ‘You rang’ Lerch to tie the game. Next batter, Keith ‘Should have never been a Met’ Hernandez doubles off the wall, Willie ‘Reading this plot is like going through a’ Mays cannot get to it. Then ‘Wizard of’ Ozzie Smith lines one off of Gene ‘Lieutenant’ Garber to drive in the winning run, ball game.”

Oooooookkkkk, so here we go if Marty broadcasts for ESPN in the Mudlark gym as the “Let’s Get Ready to Rumble” theme blasts out

“Ladies and Gentlemen, at forwards will be Chris ‘The Season is a time for’ Schuring and Leonard ‘Ian’ Fleming. At center will be Marcell ‘Morceau’ Irby, and at guards will be ‘The Song of the’ Hiawatha James and Thomas ‘Lays’ Muench. They are coached by Gil ‘Forgot to clock in’ Thorp. Interesting that he changed his sobriquet last week from Gil ‘You don’t add an ‘e’ to my name, dammit, like Jim’ Thorp. The officials tonight are Joe ‘Homer’ Numbknuckle and George ‘Christmas comes early to the Thorp’s residence whenever I’m officiating in the Mudlark gym’ Thompson.”

Okay, I went a little wild with the last few. It’s Christmas, the time for giving.

Huge shout-out to Amberdean Adwell of Louisville, Kentucky. I gained a lot of respect for her yesterday when the Pizza Hut on Dixie Highway and Lower Hunters Trace was just SWAMPED. Her grace under pressure and deft aplomb got us all out of a very tight spot so that we could all laugh about it later on. Sounds like leadership to me. She proved why she is one of the managers and why people respect that. She also goes to school as well. Gang, I think that represents America and how America should go about its business. Anyone who can balance work and personal life like that deserves my respect and should get yours as well, Gang. Next time you see her, Gang, salute her. America needs her.


And then Thorpiverse graces us with a stocking stuffer, those crotch shots in P1. When I was taking TV Techniques in high school, Mr. Edelman, our teacher,  made his point how big of a no-no the Crotch Shot was by allowing the camera to be zoomed in on him while he’s being interviewed, then standing up to stretch while the camera man was caught napping. Mr. Edelman made his point.

But Thorpiverse is proudly wearing the Crotch Shot as a Badge of Honor as if that is all there is to basketball. I may not hit the backboard when I’m shooting 3’s or jump higher than a hippo when I’m going for the rebound but if my see-through gym shorts and matching jock strap are good enough for the camera, by gum, I’m on the team. No tryout necessary.

I’ll have to remember that the next time I’m watching The NBA on CBS at Christmas.

“Reggggiiiiieeeeee for 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

BOOM BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“And the Pacers lead by 12 with 3:53 left in the 3rd quarter. Slick, you think Reggie oughta pull up his shorts?”

“I was wonderin’ if anybody had noticed. The camera guy musta spilled his Starbucks when Reggie was shootin’, Mark.”


Then, besides Ted Bessell taking in a game after a heated argument with That Girl on where to move the Christmas tree (“Not near the World Book Encyclopedias!!!!!!!!! And I’m not using Gil’s hair as a star for the top of the tree!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, I noticed Bobby Howry taking in a game. Or so the Milford Enquirer would have you think


Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Mimi Thorp: ‘I Saw Booby And Elvis In The Home Opener!!!!!!!!!!!!! They Were Sitting By The Visitors’ Bench!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Elvis escorted out by security after lewd comments directed at Gil’s mother.


Gang, I’m a Classic Rocker ’til I die (The Rolling Stones, The Who, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, etc.) but don’t the rest of you Classic Rockers or population in general get annoyed when those so-called commercial-free Classic Rock stations prate about how commercial-free they are?

“We’re commercial-free so we don’t do any talking. We know when to shut up when all the other stations keep flapping their jaws and talk about Happy Hour at Milford Lounge or The Bucket because we can’t stand it when the DJ talks about how wonderful Breeze detergent is, that it makes his clothes whiter than Porter Waggoner’s hair or Dolly Parton’s Cold Creme and that he wipes his ass with the Breeze towel that came out of the Breeze Detergent box when he’s not using it to polish Gil’s bowling ball, we know when to shut up when the other radio stations won’t shut up, we know how to keep Mimi’s love affairs to a minimum-”


“And that was my station manager making a request, The Purple People Eater, spinning your way now…”


And isn’t that what we’ve endured the last 2 weeks?

“Other comic strips talk on and on but we here at Thorpiverse know when to get to the point. While Dennis the Menace pitches a tent in Mr. Wilson’s living room, Alexa the IBM is swatting away her opponent’s shot, while Charlie Brown is calling Linus a wussie for clinging to his security blanket for 3 months, Mudlarks are displaying their private parts as a sign they’re ready for Tip-off…”


There, I feel better.


Come to Jeff Smith Marathon in Edwardsville, Indiana and say hi to Crystal, Bre, and Georgiana. They keep the place humming and treat the customer like family. And the place is ALWAYS busy. They are ALWAYS working on cars and trucks. Do things VERY well and at affordable prices and you have a winning business. Factor in great gasoline and my vehicle is on the road chewin’ up the miles. Don’t take my word for it. Take Exit 118 off I-64 in Indiana and get on Indiana 62 west. Once off the freeway, it’s the first road to your left. You can’t miss the building. Come see what I mean and get in on the fun at Jeff Smith Marathon.

Support Small Business, Gang. You need to go where EVERYBODY knows your name. Crystal and Bre and Georgiana know mine.



And the action indicates that all of Springfield’s basketball team, bench included, will utilize the Doc Councilman Indiana University Swimming Breast Stroke Method to shoot 3’s, being somewhat guarded by the Mudlark with the pancake on his head. Well, there might be a few bugs in the system but we have action. One can’t have one’s cake and eat it too.

“Who’s guarding that guy with the yarmulke? Stay on him, he’s got 13 already.”


If ya git promoted ta producer cuz ya wuz the cameraman for RBN (Redneck Broadcasting Network) and ya showed more crack than a sidewalk when they wuz lined up fer the free throws ta be shot, ya might be a redneck.


But in P3, who’s doing the clamping? The Mudlark looks like he’s getting a garden hose job while Edward InvertedScissorsHands is making an attempt to secure the ball, futile as it appears to be.

We appreciate Thorpiverse getting an early jump on basketball, Lord knows we were holding our breath until Valentine’s Day but the Mudlark in P3 appears to about to get the Pile Driver applied to him. Oh well, if this is Thorpiverse’s way of clamping down, shooting a breakaway layup while getting body-slammed, it’s a start.


“Yeah, yeah, Coach Thorp, I know when to shut up. The other players may say ‘up yours’ and ‘Only The Muppets can coach better than you’ and ‘Bob Knight threw a chair at your wife’s 5-game season’ but I know how to shut up and listen to you teaching how to take a charge or readjust my jock strap when I’m itching like Lassie or get out of the lane before the ref calls 3 seconds unless we’re continually shooting at the basket-”



Looney Tunes will never be looked at the same way.


“And that’s halftime here in Springfield, with the score, Springfield, 31, Milford, 28. The Mudlarks have made some defensive adjustments, no thanks to Coach T.’s inept coaching, and they’re paying off here. If you’re in the area, come on down for the game. The gym is easy to locate, the building is the only one with crooked doors. And we’ll be back after these messages, this is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”


“Isn’t high school basketball exciting. I can’t wait until Martin Luther King’s Birthday when we host the Kris Kringle Holiday Tournament.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp and speaking of exciting, Milford Beverage Warehouse has a promo for you. For every bottle of Korbel Extra Dry Champagne you buy, the Warehouse will enter you in our Sweepstakes Drawing for a chance to win a trip for four to the Budweiser Clydesdale Horse Farm. Boy, I’d love to show my kids how they make horses and Bud Lite straight out of the stable. And no better time for romance than for me and Mimi to walk the Clydesdale and Coffee Tree Heritage Trail that runs through the woods of the estate. Even as we speak, I’m envisioning kissing under a poplar tree while some squirrel is barking its head off at a nearby oak tree. Nuts and nuzzling just go together like a Bud Dry and pretzels.

But even if you don’t win, you won’t go away empty-handed. The consolation prize is a bag of liquor goodies guaranteed to cure the beer tooth in your family. I understand some lucky loser is going to have a plastic bag of a bottle of Four Freedoms Vodka, The Recipient Cabernet in the 750 ml size, some M & M’s, a coupon for a free Bucket Buffalo Chicken Burger, a set of Paper-Mate pens in blue ink, and a $25 gift card from Milford 24-Hour Coin Laundry. Y’know, I’m in Heaven whenever I’m steam-cleaning my Hanes while sipping on a Cabernet, aren’t you? And even if you don’t get a chance to take the Clydesdale wagon for a ride around the lake, you may not have your Class B license, but you may have a chance at a plastic bag full of Miller High Life in the 12-Pack, 1.75 Liter bottle of Evan Williams Bourbon, a bag of Cheetos, Jalapeno-style, Gillette Trac II Triple Blade Disposable Razors, and some Breeze towels. Hey, Porter Waggoner knows where to go for the best deals on booze.

And even better news is this year’s event will be held under the tight security of the Milford Police Department Horse Patrol Guard. There’ll be no more incidents like last year of any shooting while a plastic bag of Coors Light 18-Pack and Tootsie Rolls is attempted to be doled out to its rightful owner. Rifle checks will be taken at the door, so please, you miscreants, don’t ruin all the fun just because you didn’t get your Bud and Blow Pops. Leave the gun on the gun rack.

Come in and enter for your chance to watch how Clydesdales breed and let the birds and bees shower you with gifts notwithstanding, only at Milford Beverage Warehouse. And tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

Thanks to Chloe Whitaker who helped spark the last comedy idea. Your Christmas gift of a bag of goodies and gift card was extremely thoughful and shows how much you care about the people working under you.  Treat her with respect, Gang, she’s earned it. God bless you, Chloe.


Gang, enjoy the Holidays. God bless you again.


Holiday Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Clydesdale horse found mixed up with meat processed from Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage plant!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“O.J.: ‘I told Cochran I was wondering why my Kielbasa Fritters and Pancakes breakfast tasted funny.”


Mugsy and Rocky rob the Milford Federal Credit Union and get in the getaway car. They find Bobby Howry and Bugs Bunny in the back seat, the latter pair thinking it’s a taxi

“Awright, Booby, whattya know?”

“Know? I know Bugs Bunny could broadcast better than Marty Moon, Milford is the capital of Cartoonland, Gil has no sex life with Mimi and has 2 kids to show for it-


“Oh, don’t you worry, Rocky, when I’m told to shut up, I shut up, I don’t drag a plot for 5 months and call it football, when I know I should shave like Chet Ballard, I shut up-”


Mugsy, driving the getaway car, intervenes

“Duhhhhhhh, gee, Boss, Bugs and Booby are right, the basketball plot could last until Memorial Day and I don’t want no basketballs at the Indy 500-”



December 21, 2019

Marjie Ducey, Muscle Queen


It comes as no surprise to the TWIM faithful that today’s strip is a continuation of the famed Mudlark Roll Call, wherein Gil rattles off the roster to Marjie.  That no new names are introduced may come as a bit of a surprise.  Chris Schuring is, well, Chris Schuring, and we know Leonard Fleming better as a Mudlark defensive back and a member of Tiki Jansen’s host family.

It’s a little surprising that Marjie showed up in person to get the roll call instead of over the phone or via email.  After breaking the Chet Ballard/Chance Macy scandal, one might think that she’d be in greater demand. The Milford Star might have her working on even harder-hitting stories, like what really goes on in Those Dumpy Apartments on Poplar. She might even have designs on leaving the Star and the tank town of Milford, maybe for the bright lights of Central City or beyond. Maybe she’s there because she knows she really owes that lead to Gil – that he’s the one who helped her connect the dots to Chet – and so some ring kissing is in order.

Oh, who are we kidding? She’s there to check out the fresh meat. Marcell Irby’s lost an “l” in his name, but (oops! – t) put on some muscle. Not enough for Marjie’s taste, apparently.

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