This Week in Milford

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 2, 2020

He’ll Have Fun, Fun, Fun ‘Til Coach Thorp Takes His Thermos Away.

Filed under: Boredom in Milford, exposition comics, freak hands, Milford Idiots — tdrewhardin @ 1:05 am

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Well, he concocted this and he concocted that for a meal now

See, he forgot to read the label and the breakfast will over-congeal now

At practice, he’ll be puking milk all over the field, wow

This won’t be fun, fun, fun, oh please drive your flukey scrap heap away

 

This You-Say-To-MAY-To-I-Say-To-MAH-To moment is brought to you by Milford Dairies. A leader in the industry because it’s not only the only dairy in the strip but it services high school teenage boys who have no life. When Knappe is not throwing 1000 balls against the wall in his bedroom to hone his fielding skills, he is in his basement chemistry lab mixing Ovaltine and 2%. Frying Egg Beaters and Borden on the Bunsen burner. Thorp sure knows how to recruit them. Makes me pine for the return of Barry Bader and that’s sounding desperate. Bader may have been a wussy and a jerk but he showed up ready to play. I coached a lot of Baders. Leave your attitude in the bleachers and give me 110% on the field, no matter what the score says. I never had to tell him to keep his Nestle’s Quik in his gym bag.

This is just screaming for a Milkman episode (remembering from Nick at Nite)

 

Sent forth on a route from TV Land

Bringing truth and justice in our hand

It’s MILK-MANNNNNN

 

“I like this plot cold.”

 

One day, on the early route in suburban Milford

“Why the long face, Nappy?”

“That’s K’NAHP-puh!!!!”

“To-MAY-to, To-MAH-to, whatever, I deliver milk, not Langenscheidt German-English Dictionaries, c’mon, Snappy, what’s the trouble?”

“I can’t mix my powdered milk and water. The plumber from Milford Plumbing Solutions shut off our water so he can install my new toilet in the basement. Yeah, it’ll be great to not have to pee in the rhododendrons out by the patio but I don’t want to eat powdered milk out of the bag. Lay’s Ruffled Bar-B-Q powdered chips just doesn’t agree with me. Betcha can’t eat just one.”

“Y’know, K’RAPP-puh-”

“K’NAPP-puh!!!!!!”

“You say Lay’s, I say Doritos, listen, one day my radiator was about to blow in my milk truck. And I had a long route and would have had to work until midnight if the Milford Dairy maintenance guy would have had to come out for repairs. Then I saw Coach Thorp watering the lawn and that gave me an idea. I asked him if I could use his hose to fill up the radiator and Gil said ‘Sure’. Boy, did THAT save the day. And Gil could still keep his fake grass green as a leprechaun. My suggestion is use that garden hose hanging off the rack in your neighbor’s driveway. Ask politely, keep your manners in your pocket and your Carnation Dry Milk in your bottle and Milford Dairies will taste comme la reverie straight out of the udder.”

“Gee, Milkman, I never thought of that. How did you get to be so wise?”

“Necessity is the mother of invention. Gil’s been inventing stories for 60 years so I’ve had plenty of practice. Lotta cold ones delivered at football and baseball scenarios and even at Mimi’s basketball practices. Sometimes her stories get stuck in the mud and I have to go on a lactose raid. But the satisfaction comes when she gets her girls through the 5-game season with still a modicum of interest AND no injuries. Milk will get the blood pumping.”

“Mmmmmm, mmmmm, Milkman, my neighbor said ‘Go for it’ and I sprayed that hose straight in the Thermos. Used a trowel to mix it up. Powdered milk never tasted any better when it comes in contact with Mother Nature. Thanks, Milkman.”

“Anytime, K’LOPP-pee”

“K’NAPP-puh!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Refuses To Let Alexa Train With Milkman On The Route!!!!!!!!! She Will Have To Seek Alternate Employment!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I ain’t gonna let him make a move on her in the cooler. I didn’t fall off the milk truck yesterday.”

 

Well, we’re dealing with 3 teen guys in a futile piece of disgrace now

That pile of useless metal should compete in a chariot race now

Backseat Boy better store his Cocoa Puffs in place now

This won’t be fun, fun, fun, ’til they tow this clunky T-Bird away

 

Gimme a break, Thorpiverse. You’re worried that Cocoa Puffs is going to file a lawsuit over copyright infringement so you drastically altered the cereal name to FROSTEE PUFFS? Isn’t that the name of a root beer? Boy, if The Mayor mixes A & W and Lucky Charms and swirls that around in a bottle, he’ll have all the nutrients covered, WE THINK. He’ll be bouncing off the wall in the back seat and then that clunker’s going to have a Mexican jumping bean to contend with. If they’re going to practice, the only logical destination for a so-called sports strip, he won’t have trouble getting his uniform dirty, he’ll be rolling all over the field. Don’t EVEN want to tag him when he comes in with a head-first slide in that souped-up engine of his. Naturally, with Thorpiverse and logic, don’t hold your breath but I wouldn’t think Thorpiverse would stoop so low that The Three Stooges would be headed to Milford Drive-In for a matinee presentation of “Attack of the Killer Tomatoes: The Year They Bomb Pearl Harbor and Milford In One Raid”. I’m thinking positive anyway.

Be that as it may, as long as Thorpiverse is over-concerned that Trix is going to take Thorpiverse to the cleaners over legal matters concerning plagiarism, might I offer a few suggestions because, well, it DOES happen. The group Chicago is a great example. Originally dubbed Chicago Transit Authority, the ACTUAL CTA threatened to sue the group if the group went on tour with a stolen name. That’s how the group became Chicago. And everyone was happy.

So let’s use our imagination and explore possibilities on other culinary ideas in a bottle our Mayor can employ when he’s riding with Rufus and Joel in a wagon Betsy SHOULD be tugging

“Hey, Guys, thanks for picking me up. And I brought a nutritious breakfast that’s the envy of the neighborhood. Yup, mix in a cup of Don’s Milk and some Plunky Charmers and I’ll be snagging line drives all practice. The Leprachaun will have to use pine tar on his bat.”

Sure to keep Dean’s Milk reps from going to court. And did you like the Lucky Charms disguise. And I didn’t say WHICH leprachaun. There’s a bunch of ’em out there. The Lucky Charms legal team wouldn’t stand a chance on the witness stand over using a leprechaun at baseball practice. Unless you named him Harold the Leprechaun, don’t even try, Lucky Charms legal team.

Okay, how ’bout another?

“Son, you’re going to be late. The sorry-ass excuse for a Chrysler 300 just pulled up.”

“Just a minute, Mom. I still have to mix Mumford Dairies 2% and some Homey Nut Cheepios. I gotta get replenished so I can give 110% at practice. Go hard or go home, I always say.”

The Milford Dairies Inc. executives don’t have a prayer. And Cheerios crying foul over copyright infringement? Time is on Thorpiverse’s side.

Okay, one more

Coach Thorp cheering on a great catch at the warning track by The Mayor

“Attaway to stay with it, Mayor!!!!!!!!! Great catch!!!!!!!!! What’d you have for breakfast?”

“I just put some Minute Mud O.J. and some Flushee Puffs and some Rice Kruddies in the blender and next thing you know, I could do a reverse slam on my driveway hoop. Snap, Krackle, Pop in my step on my way to the rack.”

“You’re DEFINITELY our left fielder if you’ll put some more Fart Loops in the blender.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

I think I’m safe from Kellogg’s or Minute Maid giving me a call and threatening legal action. And I can use “Coach” indiscriminately. Haven’t we been doing that for 60 years?

 

If ya mix some Pabst Peanut Butter ‘n’ Jelly (PPBJ) , some Buttwiper Lite, some Molar’s Natch’ral Lite and water with yore deer meat so’s ya can git up in the mornin’ refreshed fer bow-huntin’ and still don’t git in trouble with the Game Warden over copyright infringement, ya might be a redneck.

 

Sent forth to spice this plot in Mudlarkland

Bringing truth and sanity in his hand

It’s MILK-MANNNNNNNN

 

At a random stop light in Milford, Milkman and The Drag Racer from Hell side by side

“My goodness, you guys don’t look enthused going to baseball practice. I know Gil can be soporific in his coaching methods when he’s there AT ALL-”

“Oh, it’s not that, Milkman. We pray 5 times a day to Gil’s office. It’s just that it’s bad enough that The Mayor slurps that shit out of his Thermos. It sounds like Focus’s “Round Goes The Gossip” when you play it backward. But when he gets in one of those pissy moods because he has no donuts to go with his Chock Full o’ Nuts and Cinnamon Toast Crotch to slurp out of his coffee mug, it’s murder riding in this Volkswagen wannabe listening to him prate on and on about life and coffee being so unfair.”

“Gentlemen, I used to drink Eight o’ Clock Decaf and Funky Pebbles cereal to the last drop and I still wasn’t happy. I just couldn’t do my paperwork on the route with Folgers hanging over my head. I needed a yin to my yang. Then it hit me. No one dumps Count Chalk-u-la cereal on pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving. Everyone sprays Cool Whips and Chains on the holiday’s dessert du jour. So I stocked up on Milford Dairies Lo-Cal Creamer and crammed them in my fridge next to the celery stalks. Eight o’ Clock and Funky topped with a taste of Heaven makes punching in the time clock a Stairway to Heaven. Here’s a few samples. I got them out of Gil’s hair when Grecian Formula wasn’t a priority.”

“Gee, thanks, Milkman. K’NAPP-puh won’t wind up in the back seat like Hank Williams did if we’ll set the woods on fire with this Latte Creamer.”

“Latte Creamer on Folgers and General Mills in a Thermos will burn the whole forest down. Make sure you have plenty of matches and a?fire extibguisher.”

“Said and done, Milkman. Thanks again!!!!!!”

“My pleasure. Would you want me to pour some Latte Creamer in your carburetor? Sounds like this Model T could use a tune-up.”

“Anything to keep the points and plugs from missing. Can you pour some on the paint?”

“Sorry, guys, I don’t do chemicals, I do milk. Democracy can only do so much on a car once driven by Dobie Gillis”

 

MILK-MANNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“…makes the catch and that ends the inning with no damage to speak of. Whatever The Mayor had for breakfast is working here as he’s drawn a bead on everything hit his way out in left. Extra helpings of Sugar Poops in the bowl will do that. We’ll be back after these messages with the score after 5, Milford, 7, Oakwood, 2. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

 

“The baseball season is right around the corner and I can’t wait to Take Me Out to the Ball Game. And I have Harry Carey to sing to you Mudlark fans about peanuts and Crack of Jacks this year as a bonus. Harry drove a hard bargain and we’ll have to put on extra sales of World’s Finest Chocolate to afford his singing but it was worth it for the kids and the fans.

But there’s one item you’ll never have to go door-to-door to afford. Hi, this is Coach Thorp and you won’t have to stage a raffle to afford Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage. Our accountants make sure we can run a sausage plant and still charge reasonable prices to our customers.

For example, doesn’t it just gall you that a Kroger or Kohl’s or K-Mart Foods has to go through a modeling agency to peddle the store’s wares? Believe me, someone who hair-sprayed like George Michael displaying Total Cereal makes me furious. No wonder why Total is more expensive than Trix.

But here at Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage, we use our own employees and we have them pose in front of our hogs before we slaughter ’em. We cut costs because we pay our employees time and a half to smile in front of the camera with Porky Pig. Porky’s swan song before he goes up the chute.

And I read an article next to the Milford Downs betting section in the Milford Enquirer that The Bucket is in trouble because General Mills filed a lawsuit over Bucket Cocoa Puffs Shake. When will The Bucket ever learn?

But here at Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage, Italian sausage is Italian sausage. We will never sneak Jimmy Dean Pure Pork Sausage over our label to fry on the griddle and eat with Frumpy Flakes. I couldn’t face Tony the Tigger. Smuggling George Jones Sausage stickers is passe on our Hot ‘n’ Spicy sausage. Be assured, Gil’s Hot ‘n’ Spicy and a bowl of Corn Chicks and a mug of Frosty Root Beer will all be the genuine article. No fake sausage or root beer will ever leave the plant and be loaded by the forklift on the semi.

And these smear campaigns by Tennessee Pride in the Milford Enquirer that say we use fillers in our sausage to bolster the product. Believe me, I will never stuff Gil Thorp Mild in Mimi’s boobs for breast enhancement. We are FDA-compliant and they have yet to ferret out Lucky Charms in our sausage. We go the whole hog, if you’ll pardon the pun.

But don’t take my word for it. Come pick up a package of Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage at your local grocer and let the flavor bust out. Good eatin’ and honest advertising makes for comforting words when Porky Pig is read his Last Rites. The way sausage is made.

Gang, you mean the world to me. But I’m hungry and I ran out of Slushee Puffs and gotta go to the store for a box or two. See ya.

 

Baseball practice is delayed cuz we’re glued in this crate now (we’re glued in this crate, now, we’re glued in this crate)

The way the plot and engine runs, we’ll be droppin’ in doubly late now (droppin’ in bubbly, he’s spilling his drink)

Softball will be sorely expunged through the twists of fate, wow (through the twists of fate, like Mimi’s fate and face)

This won’t be fun, fun, fun ’til they throw this dumb plot away (No fun, fun, fun, write this script away)

 

This won’t be fun, fun, fun…

 

Recreating Bill Cosby when he had a comedy show back in the late ’60’s, early ’70’s (NOT when he was a Huxtable, in other words) , a hilarious episode when he’s advertising for Corn Whispies

“God, I hope you do better than that Cosby character. He spilled Corn Whispies all over his son when he was pouring the product. All right, Thorp, you’re on.”

 

At the Thorp household with the camera rolling

“Daddy, I want some cereal and I ran out of Honeycomb.”

“No problem, Son. Here, have some Corn Whiskies. It’ll help you grow big and strong…”

“Cut.”

 

 

 

March 31, 2020

Les Parapluies De Milford

Filed under: Boredom in Milford, Make and Model Mystery Mobile — tdrewhardin @ 8:43 am

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I will wait forever, though this plot dragged on

Now we’re two hopeless lovers and spring sports we’ll gag on

Co-winners of our hearts and sharing trophies of love

Are but useless tools,

We’re clueless fools

Let’s shove

 

Okay, so Alexa’s mom didn’t own an umbrella store, Milford Used Parasol Shoppe, and Chris was Guy Foucher for some co-ed volleyball player in the Big Ten. But I had to find SOME way to keep myself awake to spice up the sputtering previous plot and take the baton for the present sputtering plot. What better way than “Les Parapluies de Cherbourg”(“The Umbrellas of Cherbourg”), an Academy Award nominee for Best Foreign Film and Best Musical Score? Many of you, old-timers included, have heard “I Will Wait for You” a million times, many times on Muzak, but like me, never recognized the tune until you saw the movie, as I did.

But I’d rather the plot at hand take the same flight as Guy and send both to Algeria to fight a war. The only difference is you hope this plot gets buried in The Sahara. You pray Guy returns to enjoy Alexa and a Bucket Burger.

 

Things are just getting off to a roaring start. Making payments on Archie’s jalopy? Did he have to make a down payment at Milford Scrap Iron & Metals, Inc.? And what was his collateral? Some expensive umbrellas he negotiated from Alexa? Sure, this parasol’s valuable. Used to protect The Little Old Lady from Pasadena from acid rain. And the rain never chewed through the material.

And stop throwing names at us, Thorpiverse, especially ones you stole off the Scrabble board. You must have taken home all the poker chips off of “Godleski”.

And where do we start? Stabbing in the dark couldn’t be more fun. I got my Milford Surname Pronunciation Guide which is useful but this one slipped through the cracks. God-LESS-ski? Okay, let me try it on for size

“…and God-LESS-ski sends one off the wall in center field and we have a cat loose in the alley. God-LESS-ski rounds first, on his way to second and he’ll make his way easily with a stand-up double. God-LESS-ski thought about third but the relay was a strong one and God-LESS-ski didn’t want to get his uniform dirty and mess up the lettering. He’d be tagged out by a mile and we’d have REAL problems trying to figure out his name…”

I confess I used Sean Moth, our local baseball announcer, to do the play-by-play. Hey, if the uniform was tattered and torn, I’m confident he’d pronounce Gozdlleyzcki properly, aggressive base-running or no aggressive base-running.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. To Roland Cassard: Don’t Even THINK Of Making A Move On Alexa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Dude thinks he can buy her love but there’s more to life than purchasing jewels and umbrellas.”

 

Gil Foucher to a Mudlark booster

“…l’intrigue de baseball fait le bruit de feraille, mais c’est normal…”

The baseball plot rattles but that’s normal. It appears the plot sucks no matter what language is spoken. Past or present considerations included.

 

And why is Tom Muench and GOAT-ulls-skee picking up The Mayor anyway? Since when does The Mayor of Milford ride with a couple of teenagers and perform some wheelies and doughnuts in the Milford Municipal Lot parking lot, then hit The Bucket for a Bucket Triple Decker because unlawful driving and dodging the Milford Traffic Control Officer works up an appetite?

When I was coaching Babe Ruth Baseball, part of keeping the League functional was obtaining a letter from The Mayor of our city. Hey, blessings from the top city official DEFINITELY helped our League. Parents will bring Junior’s birth certificate to the Player Agent of Babe Ruth League every time if The Mayor says it’s a legitimate show.

But I never took The Mayor to the Milford Lounge for a Schlitz. We didn’t need to get drunk and screw just for a letter of recommendation. I’ll just pick it up from your secretary, thank you.

“Yeah, I’ll clear some room in the front seat. I put my laundry in the back seat. And don’t worry, I vacuumed the floorboard. That Milford Car Wash Power Vacuum really sucked up all the cigarette butts. A couple of quarters and the bugs and coke cups in the vehicle didn’t stand a chance. 11:30? Fine, I’ll be there.”

 

Roland Cassard in Dr. Pearl’s office, sung to “Watch What Happens” (you’ve heard that one a million times too)

 

Dr. Pearl

File cabinets simply rock my world

Beehive hairdos charge me when you unfurl

I watch you store those math scores

I’m ape-shit, girl

For romance

 

Dear Roland

I am stuck in red tape with no hope

Office door is bolted by a long rope

I have to file these junior graduation claims

You dope

 

Now where’s my pen

 

Your dentures, Madame

 

 

Are you serious, Thorpiverse? My police cruiser I used to drive around in (It was, seriously, there were no door handles in the back seat so that criminals couldn’t get out, plus I got to school in 4.5 seconds with the souped-up engine those police cars employed to catch crooks) looked a lot better than this pile of manure that’s movin’ down the street. You’re going to have 2 teenagers pick up The Mayor in a car that is terribly afflicted with ferric oxide? The side panels have been snorting a sizeable amount of oxygen on that bag of bolts. Who takes a date to the prom in a Sherman tank that once fought Rommel on Normandy Beach? Eisenhower had a tough decision whether to proceed with D-Day on foggy conditions. Shoot, with that tank, I’d have sent the damn thing back across The English Channels for repairs and a wax job, let alone get in the back seat after the prom.  If General Montgomery sends that contraption up against 15 Panzers, and it gets severely damaged in combat, so be it. If I have to pick up The Mayor or my prom date because I fought Rommel’s henchmen on my own time and drive the streets of Milford in the tank’s present condition, that’s on me. Can’t blame it on Eisenhower’s decisions. Shitty vehicles with no sponsorship is Hell on the conscience.

 

If ya won 1st Prize at the Milford Auto Auction Car Show in the Category of Dilapidated But Running running away, beating out the Clampett’s wagon cuz Jethro fergot ta check the radiator ta see if it had water, ya might be a redneck

 

As the Milford & Oakwood pulls out of the station

JE T’AIME, CHRIS!!!!!!!!!! JE T’AIME, CHRIS!!!!!!!!!

“Alexa, I’m going to return. We had to take the train to New Thayer because the bus broke down.”

 

We are already inundated with possiblities for one name, now we’re scratching our heads on how to pronounce another one. Mark Twain had a field day when writing the hilarious account, “That Awful German Language”. Shovel a bunch of nouns and adjectives between the auxiliary verb and the participle and you had command of die Deutsche Sprache. So when Muench (talk about awful German) and Gutless-sky pick up Mike Knappe (I bet you can shovel that as an adverb between the verb and the participle) , we are left scrambling for the pronunciation guide once again. Get it out the Redbook rack, blow the dust off, and start conjecturing.

Having taken several courses in German, I DO know that it means “page” or “stable boy”. The youngster was commissioned to shovel the poop out of the barn when he wasn’t shoveling German definite articles. And right now, I’m going to begin with how the Germans pronounce it (stupid to ask someone from Samoa, y’think?) and that would be K’NAHP-puh (K and N run together) .

Now what Alice Kravitz is doing waiting for Guthman and Muench when she’s not spying on Darren and Samantha Stevens across the street is anybody’s guess. And we still are wondering what Mike K’NAHP-puh is doing to warrant Alice getting distracted on Samantha twitching her lips to get the cat out of the tree.

Was he sitting on the john (“Damn, where’s the toilet paper?”) ? Was he reading the sports pages (In MILFORD?) ? Is he listening to The Fibber McGee Hour on WDIG-Radio?

BAM!!!!!!!!!!!!! CRASH!!!!!!!!!! SLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Doggone it, I knew I should have cleaned out the locker-

“HONEY, Goodfellas and Munchy are here!!!!!!!!”

Click

“COMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Stay tuned next week to see if Fibber fumigates his locker with Renuzit

 

My final Women’s History Month entry goes to Catherine Deneuve, the lead actress in Les Parapluies de Cherbourg. She has accomplished great things in her long career. She has acted in over 100 films and has garnered some respect along the way. She has been  nominated for 14 Cesar Awards (the French equivalent of the Oscar) , winning 2 for “The Last Metro” and “Indochina”, and nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress for “Indochina”. She also is heavily involved in the cosmetics industry as a spokesperson and a model, being in high demand for many years. She is also involved in several charities, including UNESCO. Fluent in French (her native language) , Italian, and English, please join me in saluting a person who has soared to great heights while still keeping her feet on the ground. She is definitely the people’s choice.

 

“We’ll be back to see if Alexa dumps Chris for Roland Cassard and marries wealthy with no principles after these messages. This is WDIG-TV.”

 

At The Lake House, where Marty Moon invested part of his 401K he got from his broadcasting career (paid substantial penalties to Milford Federal for early withdrawl) , at bed time with his honey

 

Peaches, My Peach

I have something to share

Pull my shorts and it’ll all be there

You’ll enjoy the sensual spicy bill of fare

Mon cher

 

“Oh, Marty, you say the filthiest things. Let me have a look at the merchandise.”

Pulls the shorts out and looks in the Grand Canyon

 

Marty, My Sweet

There is really nothing to meet

It can barely stand on its feet

A very disappointing candy-caned treat

No heat

 

It’s limp as L’eggs

 

I pumped all day

 

“Marty, Roland Cassard may be a jerk but I bet he gets harder than the jewels he peddles at Milford Diamond Company. He’s been hitting on me ever since Chris took Alexa back and they married and vacationed in Liechtenstein.”

“Peaches, give a man a break. It’s just malnourished. One sip of Milford Protein Supplement drink and I’ll be brandishing a flagpole so hard, the Jets and the Sharks will back off.”

“Marty, I wouldn’t hang a tea bag on your outdated clothesline. Thank God, you paid 2 weeks on this resort. You still have 13 days to sweep me off my feet and take me away from Guy Foucher.”

“I’m a better mechanic than that vain piece of France. Why, he blew a customer’s engine and refused to apologize.”

“Marty, YOU ought to apologize because it DIDN’T blow.”

“Well, Guy isn’t leaving his godmother and marrying you. I’ll show the evidence that demands a verdict. I’ll drink more Nestle’s Quik Chocolate and get my thing so buzzed with sugar, you’ll think you’re getting it from a Snickers bar.”

“Marty, take these EREC-9000 Vita-Plus Extra Hold tablets or you’re going to be facing a hung jury.”

 

“Thank God Peaches looked after my own interests and bailed me out. I wouldn’t know what to do if Roland had ran off with her and left me with a diamond to rub on the scheme of things. Thank God, Milford Men’s Clinic came through and saved me from having to sell umbrellas the rest of my life. With treatment programs that work, isn’t it time you staved off Roland Cassard with a taste of his own medicine? These EREC-9000 Vita-Plus Extra Hold tablets made sure he would just be selling jewelry, not taking a jewel away from me. Come to The Milford Men’s Clinic and fight Roland with fire.”

 

Gang, you are my world. Thanks for your contributions. Please follow the Central for Disease Control guidelines so that we can keep Democracy at work.

 

If it takes forever

I will wait for you

For a thousand plotlines

I will wait for you

‘Til you’re back from practice

‘Til the last pitch comes through

 

‘Til you slam the door

And jump into my arms

 

Gil Foucher wipes his feet off the mat and enters

“Mimi, practice ran a little over and we had to look all over the dugout for someone’s keys. What’s with the singing?”

March 26, 2020

She Wipes Her Face Of This Whole Affair.

Filed under: big arms, freak hands, hands in the air, Pointy Fingers — tdrewhardin @ 8:55 am

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We TWIMers are anticipating the onset of baseball/softball so that we can get jerked around like a rag doll for another 4 months replete with inchoate mini-plots and directions leading us to No-Man’s Land and we’re left holding the bag how to get OUT of No-Man’s Land. Do you take A-1-A? Yeah, Jimmy Buffett would have better success getting out of Florida than we would escaping from March. Remember that Saturday Night Live sketch where Frank Zappa gets broken down and he has to go to this house where these hippies are like zombies? “Night on Drug Mountain”? And anybody who knew Zappa knew, bizarre as his music was, he never touched a drug in his life. He was VERY politically active and many of his albums are imbued with political messages.

Well, you can imagine the scene.

“Fraaaaaannnnkkkk, so good to see yoouuuu. I got some of this weed fresh in the bowl,  maaaannnnnn.”

“No, thank you, I don’t do drugs. Do you have any jumper cables?”

“Heyyyyyyy, evvverrrrryyyybodyyyy, it’s Frank Zapppppppaaaa!!!!!! Here, Frank, tryyyy some of this LSDDDDDDDDD. It’ll take your minddddd off this plot. Gil will be a thinngggg of the passsssttttttttt.”

“Look, I don’t do drugs. Do you have a phone? I can call AAA and get my car towed. I have a credit card.”

 

And with Dan Akroyd in that ponytail, that confirmed the hilarity of the situation.

“Night on Mudlark Mountain.”

Kaz in a ponytail

“Here, Gillllllllll, I got some coke straight out of the ovvvvveeennnnnn. You ought to try sommmmmmeeeeee. You aren’t going anywhheeeerrreee in this ploootttttt, anyway.”

“Kaz, you know I don’t do drugs. Did you get that Geography Final grade for Chris? I have to have it on Dr. Pearl’s desk by Monday.”

“Oh, Gil, don’t be such a party poopperrrrrr. I have a nice toke under my typewriiiittterrrrrrr. I smoke it when the studentttssssss aren’t loookkkinnngggggg. Open your mind and smelllllllll the cofffffeeeeee, mannnnnnnnn.”

“No thank you, Ms. Rizk. I have a reputation to uphold. Did you get Chris’ AAA record? I understand he’s in arrears and I want to pay the balance before that goes to print in The Trumpet.”

“Heyyyyyyy, no harmmmmmmm, no foullllll. He may have landed on the practice fiiiiieeeelllllddddd but it’s ancient historyyyyyyy to meeeeeeee. And I’llllllll give it a decentttttttt burialllll if you’ll broaden your minnnnnnnddddddd, Gil. And I’ll go half on the towinnnngggggggg.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Mudlark Girls Basketball Ends With 21-Gun Salute!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Mimi Thorp: ‘Scriptwriter told me he didn’t have any room in April for the Playdowns and my sermonizing on the softball diamond. I had to flip a coin.”

 

Okay, Mudlark Ladies, it’s time to get up and stretch. Yeah, I’m also gettin’ antsy for this thing to end. What the Academic Rat Race That Ended In Detente had to do with basketball is a free throw do-over because someone entered the lane too soon. Mimi needs to drill her players on proper footwork, maybe stick an anvil in their butts so they don’t lean over, um, er, EUREKA!!!!!!!!! THEY’RE STRETCHING BECAUSE THEY WON!!!!!!!!!!!! Sometimes it doesn’t always register. Like the Vegas gambling house that has no clocks because they want people to keep gambling by losing sense of time, the Mudlark gym has no scoreboard because Thorpiverse wants to keep dragging this along to fill up space until Spring sports and let us draw our own conclusions. Make us think this is a Ban Roll-On commercial.

 

WE WON WE WON

“Yup, we sure did. Have you checked your pits lately? I have some Sure in my locker.”

Raise your arms if you’re Surrrreeeeee

 

What a commercial. Team celebrations in Milford will never be the same.

 

If ya conk out yore bloodhound and all the ticks and fleas on yore bloodhound as a result of lack of usage of Mennen Speed Stick Spe-shull Formula Apple Cider Supreme for longer than this plot, ya might be a redneck.

 

And we won’t have to worry about the Mudlark gym getting COVID-19 thanks to the mosquito netting hanging from the basketball rim in the background. Mudlark girls can flash their B.O. knowing that protection comes in the niftiiest places. Shoot the winning shot at the buzzer and keep the flies away, now there’s a concept you can tell your grandkids. Yup, we won and trounced malaria. Works for me.

Too bad it didn’t get all the fire ants off of Alexa. Poor girl is still concerned about developing her game and now she has another problem to contend with. I’ll go get another towel. It might not help get you a starting spot on UConn’s team next year but you won’t have fire ants eating your corneas. We’ll get something out of the deal.

Better not get too close, Chris. Fire ants and Fake SAT exams don’t mix.

 

And it appears that Chris went to Mudlark Mountain and back, judging by P2. Better watch out, Alexa. No telling WHAT’S going to be at his party. If you’re expecting Lay’s Wavy Chips or Grippo’s Reduced Fat Bar-B-Chips or Diet Coke in 20 oz. bottles or Mudlar-K-Cola Watermelon Wonder in the same size, you might be disappointed.

“Here, Alexaaaaaaaaa, try some of this acid, mannnnnnnnnnn. You won’t have to practice being aggresivvvvvveeeee by knockinggggggg Dr. Pearlllllllll into her file cabinet. This tripppppppp willlllll send your opponent into the cheap seatttttttttsssssss. You’ll be Moses Malonnneeeeee, mannnnnnnn.”

“No thanks, I don’t do drugs. Where’s the Star-Kist tuna sandwiches? Chris said there’d be enough to feed the Valley Conference.”

 

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Evangelical Camp Meeting Results In 15 Converts, 32 Rededications, and 10 Baptisms At Milford High Girls Gym!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Mimi Thorp: ‘And we won the game!!!!!! Can you Lady Mudlarks say HALLELUJAH!!!!!!!!!!'”

 

And it’s bad enough that this plot had to go to Mudlark Mountain and end things at a pot party but WE’RE STILL WAITING ON SPRING SPORTS!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don’t get me wrong, to each their own and I’ve always liked Clapton’s Slowhand album that includes the signature tune, Cocaine, but I’d understandably prefer to listen to it as good music, not be the ending to Hoosiers. Jimmy Chitwood ending the plot laced on LSD really wasn’t the fate of the gods. Bobby Plump in the Sky with Diamonds? 15-footer in Marmalade Skies? Try sticking that one on the Milan Water Tower next to “1954 Champs.”

 

“How many fingers am I holding up, Alexa?”

“5?”

“That’s how many bags of pretzels will be at my party. And that midget standing next to me that hit the winning lay-up? That’s how many bowls of quiche will be on the table.”

 

OH GOD NO Puh-llllleewaaaseee tell us we’re not opening up another can of worms with the possible intro of Chris’ girlfriend. We’ve already been through enough ethics-challenging without finding out what SHE’S all about. Or, judging by Alexa’s reaction in P3, there might be a possible thing for Chris. Folks, there are only 12 months in the year. Don’t cram plot development into a glass of Nestle’s Quik. Using a spoon to stir won’t help.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. That McCartney Moment didn’t mean anything? I had a fun time under the sheets at The Lake House.”

“I’m really sorry, Alexa. It was wonderful. Well, gotta go. I gotta pick her up before the Milford Zoo closes.”

Times like these I usually switch over to Buzz Sawyer. There’s no sports in that one either but he usually catches the crook by April. And there’s no mosquito nets on the basketball backboard in his driveway.

But as long as Chris has Fritos and Con Queso dip, I might have some room on my schedule.

 

“Here, Alexa, I got some weed, mannnnnnnn. Freshly grown on some farm in New Mexicooooooooo. So good, they smuggled some across the borderrrrrrrrrrrr.”

“No, thanks. Hey, Chris, don’t put away that Amish potato salad in the fridge just yet.”

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry is Nancy Kassebaum. She was a very powerful Senator from Kansas for 18 years, able to enact legislation that made a difference from improving affordable health care to removing Apartheid in South Africa. Her father, Alf Landon, a man who lived to 100, was a famous presidential candidate in 1936, so she was no stranger to politics. In fact, she became the 2nd woman to win a Senate seat without her husband first occupying that seat. She has always displayed good judgment and has voted middle of the road on several issues, despite coming from a heavily Republican state (her own party affiliation, BTW) such as her native Kansas. Please join me in saluting a person who has displayed quality leadership when it counted and made this nation that much stronger through her well-balanced style.

 

“We’ll return to The Olde Tyme Gospel Hour at the Milford Girls Gym after these messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV. Don’t go away.”

 

“Amen, Sister Mimi. That was a great homily about The Sermon on the Mount. Probably the key to the game. And we rallied from 14 points down in the 4th quarter. Uncle Mo was on our side. Blessed are the meek.

And what better way of celebrating The Prodigal Son returning home to get the key rebound than to have a clearance sale. The timing couldn’t be better.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp on behalf of Milford Beverage Warehouse and with the COVID-19 epidemic keeping our customers from coming to El Dorado, that’s even more of a reason to clear ’em out and I don’t mean Alexa puttin’ a body on Ms. Rizk’s typewriter so that it can get an easy put-back.

Man o man, I couldn’t believe Knob Creek Straight Bourbon piled high to the ceiling because nobody wants to get drunk and do it with Rocky Raccoon. Gotta slash the prices if you want to bring ’em back in their gas masks. Best coaching advice I ever gave.

Boy, Jameson Irish Whiskey in 750 ml at a throat-cutting $14.99 and that’s not even counting the coupon that’ll knock off another 2 bucks. Shoot, the cashier we’ll even apply hand sanitizer to your coupon so that you don’t get sick off of Jameson and the virus too.

And the good people at The Warehouse got tired of using a bulldozer to plow through the cases of Miller Lite 30-Pak 12 oz. cans to get to the restroom so they slashed the price to a ridiculous $9.99 so that sanity could be restored on the way to the john. My goodness, for a dollar more, they’ll throw in Latex Sanitary Gloves you can use to help carry the booze to your vehicle. No sense in contracting The Plague while sippin’ The Good Life.

 

And when one of The Warehouse employees is practicing climbing Mt. Everest by punching a piton into a mountain of Bogle Vineyards Select cartons, I think it’s safe to say The Warehouse better reduce the backstock. For $7.79, you can be a Cheese and Wine whiner and if you brought your calculator you use to calculate your piece count at your factory, you can be an even cheaper whiner if you can figure the 10% off that price to the nearest tenth. Good deals, good booze, clean hands, and mold-free Roquefort, sounds like Whiner’s Paradise to me.

Keep yourself safe through these trying times and when you feel justifiably disinfected, come on down and partake of the clearance sale now happening at The Warehouse. Prescriptions don’t just get prescribed at Milford Apothecary. Come buy what the doctor ordered at prices that won’t make you regurgitate and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

Gang, stay safe. Follow the Center for Disease Control guidelines to the best of your ability. Don’t underestimate this one. That and common sense and I like the odds. God bless you all.

 

CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!! SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!! SPLASH!!!!!!!!

“You know you could have used a step-ladder. There’s one in the closet. Now we have to mop up all this Captain Morgan Spiced Rum. We might have a few bottles before the store opens.”

 

 

In Dr. Pearl’s office one day

“Heeeerrreeee, Gil, I have some more crack in my fiilllllleeeee cabinetttttt. You oughta try someeeeee.”

“No way. I tried that in the Marines. Did push-ups with my ears buzzing all day. Did you ever get Chris’ girlfriend’s transcript FedEx’d here?”

 

 

 

March 24, 2020

“If You’ll Throw In The Shadow People Singing ‘Pomp And Circumstance’ A Cappella, You Got A Deal”

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In the halls and in the gym

Everywhere

Cafeteria and rooms so dim

God, I swear

Always grace the scene on a whim

The silhouettes, I declare

 

They sit and stare

They

Sit

And

Stare

 

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Come to bear

 

We should have known better than to assume that Thorpiverse was going to wrap this up any time soon. Like, what was Mrs. Brown Haired Counselor going to do, shoot Alexa cold dead with a Magnum and award Valedictorian to Chris by default? Gotta hand it to Thorpiverse. Cut that Gordian Knot and get baseball started sometime this week. Wouldn’t put it past Thorpiverse, but no, odds are this’ll get dragged out to The Bitter End. Being a Husker Du fan, they had a CD called The Living End. Both concepts have one song in common. It’s Not Funny Anymore. Put the gun away, ma’am, and let us continue to our exercise in boredom.

You would assume that Gil is getting the field ready for baseball, ditto Mimi in softball. I’d hate to know Gil is under the desk eavesdropping and making sure things are kosher. Wouldn’t want another Teddy incident. If you want to report to Dr. File Cabinet Instead of a Grandfather Clock in her Living Room Pearl that there is no need to flunk out and suspend an honor student for academic dirty pool, you gotta lay low behind the hydrangea plant and ensure academia is on the level. No more hot SAT booklets sold over the border for drugs and cash. Milford High School has an image to protect.

And once this scenario FINALLY lays to rest, there’ll be Gil at the ball park with his Milford jacket and cap on. Like he’s been sitting in the dugout for days, waiting for the cameras to roll. Then he’ll recite all the players he has coming back. Thank God this strip is alloted 3 panels. We’d be subjected to a listing of the players strengths and weakness, plus who can line the field when he isn’t pitching on a piece of paper he obtained from a Snickers wrapper that was in the trash can that Luhm failed to dump thoroughly. Mimi does the same thing but she usually buys steno pads to bore us to tears.

We still have to get through Chris and Alexa and based upon the streak that seems to be an omen, baseball or softball won’t start tomorrow. They still have to discuss why that streak always shows up whenever there’s controversy in academics. Never in athletics. When did you EVER see that streak on the gridiron or the basketball court or the badminton arena? 10-team Mudlark Wrestling All-Comers Classic? Nope, the streak won’t appear on the mat.

So we patiently wait for Chris or Alexa to pull the Windex out of his or her pocket while poring over the small stuff relating to academics. All in good time. I hope Gil’s cap doesn’t get wet. You know about this fickle weather in March. Hell on a guy sleeping in the dugout.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Chris Pops The Question In High School Cafeteria!!!!!!!! Sketches Proposal With Bowie Knife On Picnic Table!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“O.J. : ‘This ceremony is happening over my dead body.”

 

“Really, I suggested killing the plot a month ago. Nobody told you?”

 

They dress like The Blob or Siamese Twins

Black as gold

Threaten to eat all and next of kin

They’re so bold

Mimi and Gil better take a spin

Silhouettes never grow old

 

That’s what I’m told

That’s

What

I’m

Told

 

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Never grow old

 

Oh great. We COULD be stumbling into baseball or softball, depending which one drones on the best for, oh, 4 months, but NOOOOOOO we have to get sidetracked by The Lake House. Yeah, like Keanu Reeves, we’re about 2 years behind on things. Chris ought to be getting the grade he received on his Advanced Chem final from Harvard any day. And Alexa will get the MVP Award after leading UConn to the National Championship in Women’s Basketball. The trophy ought to be delivered to her house by Milford UPS right on schedule. I understand Coach Auriemma mailed her a letter begging her to stay another year. Good forwards are hard to come by. And to think, all this backward history can be traced (pardon the ignoble pun) to Mimi teaching her that grades are like points, nobody’s going to give you free cars or $100 handshakes if neither one is very high. And that’s assuming you’ll even get a scholarship.

 

“…this is the way it should be for lovers

They shouldn’t go it alone, oh no…”

Then with Chris delivering about the lamest confession in quite some time, going by Thorpiverse years, is that Paul McCartney’s “This Never Happened Before” playing over the cafeteria speakers? I’ll know for sure when I see two or more cafeteria ladies start to slow-dance with each other and get all kissy-faced. The Lake House had that effect. We presume this is NOT going to happen between Chris and Alexa. Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock are simply going to negotiate co-Valedictorian terms and leave The Lake House for Marty and Peaches. They put their deposit in 2 years ago, Chris and Alexa better wrap this up.

“Ohhhh, Melba (kiss, kiss) I’m so sorry for saying you stack the Hostess Twinkies on the rack (kiss, kiss) like dirty Holiday Inn towels…”

“And Rayette, I’m sorry (kiss, kiss) if I told you you cook the pork fritters (kiss, kiss) in a bowl of Pennzoil…”

THIS NEVER HAPPENED BEFFFFOOOOORRRREEEE

 

If yore waitin’ for yore high-powered Winschester with sights that could knock a bobby pin offa Gil’s hair that ya ordered 2 years ago frum Milford Guns and Ammo cuz they didn’t have it in stock and yore still waitin’ another 6 months for the plot and the bullets to come ’round so yuz kin do some huntin’ in tha woods behind Gil’s Pure Pork Sausage plant, ya might be a redneck.

 

“…and now I seeeee

This is the way it’s supposed to be…”

 

“Whhheeewwweeee, it’s getting cold. This aluminum bench is Hell to sleep on. Better get another jacket out of the trunk. I hope Mimi stuck that leftover On-Cor Boneless Grilled Steaks in the oven when I come home tomorrow morning. War is Hell.”

 

“…so come to me

Now we can be what we want to be…”

This Paul McCartney Romantic Moment is brought to you the new movie “Bill Nye The Science Guy: Teaching The Periodic Table in Milford High Freshman Chemistry.” What could have been a magical moment and had been the second coming of Keanu and Sandra and thereby salvaged a lackluster basketball season plunged in the salvage itself.

We are forced to whip out our calculators and watch romance morph into a trig table. Not that I, or anyone else for that matter, was really expecting Chris and Alexa to kissy-face like the cafeteria ladies, er, Keanu and Sandra. If it WERE to occur, Keanu and Sandra would have to detour to MIT.

“And if you use standard deviation, you’ll find my love for you isn’t wavering all that much. It was never in Ms. Rizk’s typewriter having no life…”

“Oh, Keanu, the fact that we are just points from each other, well, like Springsteen

“Two hearts are better than one

Two hearts, girl, get the job done”

“Atta way to use the FOIL method on our relationship, Sandra. We’ll be trinomials by the time baseball gets around. We’ll have little polynomials running around The Lake House”

“The stork ought to be delivering our polynomials anytime. Remember that time when we learning natural logs together two years ago?”

 

The scriptwriter for The Lake House that graduated from Rose-Hulman got fired. He’s now writing Trigonometry Today textbooks for the Valley Conference High Schools.

 

Lumped like coal and having no name

Anonymous

Walking in stride, the gait’s the same

Synchronous

Makes a tarantula look tame

In the woods, they’d be wild game

Seeking to maim

 

Seeking

To

Maim

 

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

They all look the same

 

ALL

LOOK

THE

SAME

 

And under the category of Pantheon of Mysterious Objects, that thing on the wall in the cafeteria in P3 can simply be nothing other than a heating unit. We gotta keep The Blob alive somehow. Keep that damn thing under a heat lamp if you want it to terrorize the city of Milford when the dismissal bell rings. DON’T leave it out in the dugout with Gil waiting for the baseball plot to start. The Blob could turn into The Flop by the time we get to Memorial Day.

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry is Karen Ferguson-Dayes, the Women’s Soccer Coach for University of Louisville. She was a multiple All-All-American for University of Connecticut back in the early ’90’s as a sweeper and a midfielder. She eventually wound up in the current position just mentioned. Her no-nonsense style has enabled the Cardinals to participate in several NCAA post-season runs, and some deep runs at that. I remember when a reporter asked how she was going to prepare for a major opponent and she, knowing there was ANOTHER opponent to play before that, reminded the reporter “Excuse me, we play THIS team FIRST!!!!!!” Don’t overlook ANY opponent. Spoken like a true coach. Then, one night, playing a team that was employing dirty tactics, she still insisted that her team still stick with the Game Plan. How you play the game, win, lose, or draw. Starting out 1-18, her 182-162 record at Louisville speaks for itself. Join me in saluting a person who keeps competing and has won that way, on and off the field.

 

“We’ll be back to see if Marty Moon if finds his manhood under the bunk bed at Mudlark Lake Resort while Peaches heads to the fridge for a Yoplait after these messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV.”

 

At The Lake House

“…I met you and now I see

This is the way it should be…”

 

“Ohhhhhh, that is so romantic. The Beatles sure know how to get a girl going. They don’t make ’em like they used to.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Go away, Mrs. Shaw!!!!!!!!!!”

“But Honey, weren’t we going for a midnight swim? I’m kinda horny and I’d LOVE for you to do a cannonball on meeeeeee!!!!!!!”

“I called Keanu Reeves and he said there’s still sharks swimming around when he was rentin’ it. I ain’t gonna have my Significant Other bitten off by Jaws.”

“Darling, it’s a freshwater lake.”

“Bloopie, bloopie, it’s got all kind of algae in it. That causes my Significant Other to attract scum. I don’t want to go skinny-dipping with a green weenie. What would the neighbors think? Plus, it breeds that Coronavirus they’re talking about in the news. The boogeyman or the Algae from Hell won’t come in here. I got the bathroom dead-bolted.”

Heard somewhere from the septic tank outside

“…So jump on me

This is the way love’s supposed to be…”

“Honey, you can’t quarantine yourself just because pond scum breeds a little out of control. You can jump on me out in the middle of the lake. We’ll have life preservers and you can jump off the raft and take on me.”

“No way, Mrs. Shaw!!!!!!!! I microwaved my toothbrush and made sure I spit out thoroughly when I spit out my Colgate. That Coronavirus will go down the drain faster than stink beating the virus on shit.”

“How are you going to eat?”

“I bought a lot of Rice-a-Roni and stuck it under the bathroom sink. I can use the sink to boil water. I’ll have the 4-Cheese Rice-a-Roni tonight. No Coronavirus will get past these doors and land on my bill of fare.”

“If you can’t land on me because Coronavirus has landed on your Significant Other, let me know.”

 

“She had me there. And we were paying good money to rent out The Lake House and not doing any more than Captain Kangaroo would do with Mr. Moose. With treatment programs that work, don’t YOU want to hear Paul McCartney in the background while gettin’ it on in the lake? No wonder why they call it The Lake House. House of Fun to me. Come down to the Milford Men’s Clinic and jump on in, the water’s fine.”

 

Get after it, Gang. You are the world to me. Just be careful, The Blob was last seen in your neck of the woods.

 

“…this is the way it should be for lovers

They shouldn’t go it alone, oh no…”

 

Gil entering Dr. Pearl’s office

 

“I just received Schuring’s 4th-grade test scores and there was no indication of foul play, he’s good for Stanford and-er, what are you doing hugging your coat rack?”

 

“…It’s not so good when you’re on your own

(Kissy, Kissy, Kissy)

So come to me…”

 

“And Harrieta, I’m sorry if I said you mop with Pine-Sol and Tequila Sunrise.”

 

March 19, 2020

A Good Samaritan Gone Bad.

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WHAT???? We went through all through this investigation and even by-passed Alexa’s development as a scoring machine down low and Chris’ development in just any category, you name it, only to find out that Teddy Blue planted a whoopee cushion to this plot because Dagwood walked on the other side of the street when Elmo got wedgied by Wee Pals and headed onto Midnight Handicap Bowling Night at Milford Lanes? Say it ain’t so.

Lesson Number One in how never to conduct a treasure hunt. We went to the Milford Public Library and went to the microfiche of all the National Geographic’s (“Milford at a Crossroads: Perspectives and Possibilities”) and the Special Collections to skip over the newspaper articles that showed pictures of Gil actually coaching (Ansel Adams shot it and put it in a scrapbook next to his pictures of Yosemite Valley) then went through Dr. Pearl’s office to see if she was still on the oxygen machine like she’s been inhaling for the last 2 centuries (gettin’ up there in years) and when she could still file away School Lunch Menus for the Month of May, we figured she could maneuver manila folders and use her lungs at the same time, then went through the girls gym where Mimi taught about life and grade point averages and taught Alexa that if you don’t score, you’ll flunk out and life will suck and you’ll wind up in Skid Row where all the other Valedictorians went who got straight A’s but refused to shoot lay-ups go for Purgatory only to learn that Teddy has a severe dearth of furniture and a chip on his shoulder. Talk about going back to square one.

“Teddy, if you want, I can call The Salvation Army and the truck should have the divan delivered by this afternoon, my treat. No hard feelings?”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Donates 1.5 Million Dollars Worth Of Neo-Georgian Living Room Suite Collectibles To Local Neighbor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I was going to throw it out anyway. Judge Ito sat in the same love seat that Aaron Burr lounged on when we were going over case briefs. Comes with an ottoman.”

 

And as Teenchy mentioned, we’re leapfrogging several episodes, presumably due to baseball and softball suddenly springing on the horizon. Not that much justice will be done to those either but let’s get through this 1 scene, skip several scenes, backtrack a scene, come back to a scene among those several scenes, take a smoke break, another scene, insert a few “meanwhile”‘s along the way in case anybody’s awake (“Meanwhile in Dr. Pearl’s office where she’s spraying Raid on the Science Lab Delivery Invoices”) , divert to the Milford Barber Shop where Gil is investigating Chris’ Kindergarten transcript for any discrepancies in his Spelling Aptitude Test scores while getting a trim and a shave, endure a couple of leftover “meanwhile”‘s (“Meanwhile, at Milford General where Mimi is getting her leg amputated after dropping a bowling ball on her foot”) , watch the last scene ride off into the sunset with Gil riding Trigger and Teddy enjoying the coffee table that Chris recovered from the Wednesday Garbage Day bin and let’s FINALLY get to Spring sports. Don’t ask me to repeat that.

 

“Pop, I found the rake next to the pile of mimeographed sheets of the SAT Answer Code. We’ll nail Teddy for sure, isn’t that right, Birmingham?”

“That most certainly is. And Mr. Chan, I saw Teddy using that rake to filter the dandruff out of his Mohawk, sho’ nuff. We’ll get him for a misdemeanor anyway. Pilfered bookstore items, if nuthin’ else.”

“#2 Son and Birmingham, there’s an ancient Chinese proverb that says ‘When the plot has ended, go check if Gil’s babysitter is still watching the kids’. Now come, let’s let Teddy drown in his Vidal Sassoon Extra Moisturizer Formula and let us partake of a well-earned rest down at The Bucket. We could stand some Bucket Steamed Split Peas.”

 

If ya git a recliner delivered in a 4-wheel drive straight ta yore livin’ room after yore other recliner pooped out from all the butt-scratchin’ from you and yore bloodhounds while ya wuz watchin’ ESPN College Football Gameday ever’ Saturday and ya donate THAT piece uv furniture ta yore neighbor so that he has a place ta put his tool box on so that his tools don’t git greasy from all the dirt on the floor, ya might be a redneck.

 

Pebbles comes over to Bam Bam’s house a week after Bam Bam got due processed from Bedrock Elementary for sticking a dead pterodactyl in her desk while she was up front singing “God Bless America” in front of the class

“Bam Bam, I just want to let you no that I still like you and even though they had to fumigate my desk, the silver lining was they sent that dead pterodactyl to the Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage plant in the Sage Sausage Processing Department.”

“Pebbles, I have always resented you. When I was trying to turn the hose on Dino and that saber-toothed cat that dumps your dad outside at the end of the show, you sent the Mau Maus after me because you were protesting animal cruelty.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Bam Bam-”

“And when your dad used a handgun on my mom’s bird that got the wheels turning on the iron so that my mom could iron my tunic, that was a low blow. Just because that bird told Fred that Wilma got poached brontosaurus eggs at fire sale prices from the Bedrock milkman, well, your dad can dish it out but he can’t take it. It took 4 days of clubbin’ that pterodactyl but if it meant watching you sing “God Bless America” like Captain Beefheart, it was worth it.”

“And I want to make it up to you. My dad is coming over later to deliver that cot to your living room. He slept on it when he was in the Bedford Army National Guard. You will be home, won’t you?”

 

I think it’s important to be a good citizen and support my local neighborhood association. Still, I’m a little befuddled to read about some chickens that were running loose in the streets when I’m not really near any significant farm

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage Plant Fined $1.3 Million Dollars By EPA After Yorkshire Escapes!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Spokesperson at the plant noted that hog ran from Animal Testing Lab into Grease Monkey parking lot and contaminated the asphalt with multiple droppings.”

 

Birmingham Brown in front of the Milford High School Girls Gym, standing by the car, waiting for Charlie Chan and his son

“Boy, I sure hope Mr. Chan is okay. Man, ol’ Alexa was a walking time bomb. When his son told Mimi that instructing Alexa to pretend like she was shooting aTexas Instrument TI-89 calculator was an absurdity, I thought Gil was going to knock him on the floor for a 3-count. Thank God, I’m safe out here. Lord, I’d hate to see how dangerous he can be when he’s doing any coaching. I’ll turn in my resignation to Mr. Chan.”

Charlie Chan and his son come out of the gym

“You were right, Pop. There wasn’t any activity going on. I had a hunch that the Spalding semi with all the basketballs by the Milford Truck Stop was headed towards the Milford YMCA Campground. When he was downing a burrito, that sealed it.”

“Ya mean, I waited for you for 3 months shakin’ in my shoes only to find out THERE WAS NUTHIN’ GOIN’ ON?????”

“Birmingham, I learned from Confucius that man who sees another man with a catcher’s mitt and a volleyball in front of the pavilion should not assume that man is waiting for the 3-man officiating crew. Now, #2 son, I assume you have some Certs in your pocket. Your breath is beginning to smell like Gil’s locker at the Milford Athletic Club.”

 

I am a HUGE comic strip buff and one of my favorites is Gasoline Alley. They have been up and running for over a century and deservedly so. Frank King, the original artist, designed his backgrounds in his strips to resemble the rustic scenery of his native Wisconsin. Nice rolling hills and plenty of pastures graced the cityscape of Walter Wallet and his adopted son, Skeezix. With the seemingly ranch house conept in P3 in mind and pretending The Dells are behind the trees, Rufus and Joel show up

“Mornin’, Mr. Wallet.”

“Good morning, Joel. Good morning, Rufus.”

“Jus’ wanna le’ ya knows that if Betsy stepped inta yer ki’chen un’nvited, I’se sorry. Sumtimes ‘at mule’s gotta mind o’ its own.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Joel. We were able to save the pots and pans that were handed down from the 11th century. We had to throw out the crockery my ancestors took with them on The Mayflower. But we kept the butter churner.”

“Land sakes, tha’s good news. Rufus, you ‘n’ Melba git that box o’ ‘luminum plates off th’ wagon.”

“Yes’m”

“Rufus, I ain’t Melba. Tha’s wuss ‘n’ callin’ me Gil. Mr. Wallet, ’em plates we foun’ down by the crick. I understan’ Tiki ate off ’em when he wuz changin’ school distrikts. But I don’ think he’s returnin’ for dessert, so they’s all yorn.”

“Why, thank you, Joel. Looks like Rufus and Melba are experience trouble getting them off the wagon.”

“Rufus, you’s as worthless as this plot. Do I gotta util’ze Betsy ta tug ’em off?”

“I’s jest that the box is so he’vy, it’ll rip Melba’s skirt clean off. And we got kids ‘at read Gil an’ play bask’tball. Alexa didn’ shoo’ free t’rows ‘n’ her birt’day suit.”

“Rufus, don’ tell me th’ rules. Ya soun’ like Mimi when she’s eatin’ one o’ Melba’s possum biskits f’ breakfast. Han’ me th’ crowbar and git out o’ th’ way. Don’ worry, Mr. Wallet, we’ll git ’em dish’s off th’ wagon and ‘n’ yer livin’ room in a bit.”

“No problem, Joel. I have to go to town. I have to go pick up Skeezix from soccer practice. I’ll be back by the end of the baseball season. You’re welcome to the Lay’s Sour Cream Chips on the shag carpet in the living room. The Milford Steam-Vac guy  foamed the floor an hour ago so you should be good to go.”

“Much ‘bliged, Mr. Wallet. An’ me ‘n’ Rufus’ll git a coal shovel and git all th’ poop off the ki’chen tile. Sumtimes, Betsy’s also gotta butt o’ her own.”

 

“Birmingham!!!!!!!!!”

“Hey, Benjamin!!!!!!!!!!! Whatcha know?”

“Well, I heard that Gil-”

“You’re puttin’ me on. But didn’t Mimi-”

“Naw, the fire truck hosed it down. But-”

“You mean to tell me-”

“Yup, her kids tested negative at the clinic. They-”

“Wait a minute. I saw Gil with a shotgun-”

“Shootin’ mice in the gym-”

“Don’t blame him. Well, Ben, nice seeing you.”

“Same here, Birmingham.”

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry is Amy Grant. I have always loved her music and I really give her props for ability to write her own songs. She started out in the early ’80’s with hits like “El Shaddai” and “Angels”, then hit her stride later in the decade with her first #1 single, a duet with Peter Cetera (formerly with Chicago) performing “The Next Time I Fall.” She scored her second #1 single, “Baby Baby”, off her blockbuster album, “Heart in Motion.” A six-time Grammy winner, I have always admired her solid Christian life, one of the few I can honestly say (unfortunately) lives the Christian faith along with telling it. Amy, you did the right thing divorcing your first husband. Just because he said he was a Christian did not a Christian necessarily make. You seem A LOT happier now. Please join me in saluting a woman who has created a serious dent in the music industry and still loves Jesus. God bless you, Amy.

 

“We’ll be back to see if Charlie Chan gets the gym open again after he proved to the Milford School Board that years of neglect didn’t prove lack of interest after these messages. This is WDIG-TV.”

 

“Man, I have always liked Charlie Chan movies. Sippin’ a Bud on the couch with Mimi snoozin’ on my shoulder and watching “Charlie Chan Goes to Milford to Stop the Rioting”, well, only  a member of the Swedish Bikini Team would make that better.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp, speaking on behalf of Milford Beverage Warehouse. And, sakes alive, this Coronavirus scare is affecting the nation and I can understand. And people are looking for answers.

Our Booze and Toilets promo has been enhanced with the generous cooperation of Milford Plumbing Solutions. Many toilets are contaminated and health recovery can be hindered with such a contraption stuck like one great big wart in the bathroom.

That’s why The Warehouse is here to save the day and the nation. Bring in your enfant terrible and your Milford Beverage Warehouse credit card and with a purchase of Gallo Family Moscato 1.5 Liter, you can put your problem child on the dump truck and exchange it for a Broyhill Sani-Flush Futur-ama, problem solved. Shoot, for an extra bottle, they’ll even install it. I’m glad I don’t have to use plastic gloves when Jose Cuervo runs through my system and I gotta pee me a river.

And with a purchase of a Bud Light Platinum the 24-Pak, 12 ounce cans for pennies on the dollar, The Warehouse will send the cavalry out to unclog your john. Sometimes, Grandma comes over for St. Patrick’s Day dinner and her constipation seems to be contagious. Over-consumption of green cupcakes will do that. But not all toilets are victims of The Plague. They just need a gentle push and flushing is as easy as falling off a log. And if Milford Plumbing Solutions doesn’t unclog the toilet, you still keep the booze. You’ll get something before it’s all over.

And for you hypochondriacs out there, your worries are over. With a purchase of Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whisky 750 ml for a price you potty-trained your dog with, Milford Plumbing Solutions and The Warehouse have financed free vaccinations through Milford Public Health Department to cope with the crisis. One shot in the arm and you’ll see Captain Morgan. Hope he’s got a shopping cart because the deals here at The Warehouse are no illusion. I’ll be lining up to go get my bottle.

Come down to The Warehouse and ditch that contaminated throne where it’ll be sent to Perdition, somewhere in the county. And walk out of The Warehouse with your grip on The Good Life. Tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

Gang, you mean the world to me. PLEASE, all kidding aside, follow the Center for Disease Control guidelines to the nth degree. Wash your hands. Cook THOROUGHLY. Maintain proper distance. Get fresh air and sunshine.  And the cleaner air, the better. Stay active but stay smart. AND if you suspect the symptoms of Coronavirus, DON’T HESITATE GET HELP IMMEDIATELY!!!!!!!!

We’re America, Gang. United we stand. Let’s stand together like we have in the past. It is how we got through in the past and how we’ll get through now. God bless you all.

 

“Well, Mr. Chan, looks we wrapped up another case. You stickin’ around for baseball?”

“I respectfully decline, Mr. Thorp. My grandfather once told me that ‘Man whose feet is stuck in the mud in the batter’s box will never get the benefit of the call from the umpires on a bang-bang play’. Come, Birmingham, take me home.”

 

At the Milford Beverage Warehouse in the vaccination line

“There you are. You’ll see your Maker before you know it, if not Evan Williams. Here, Dr. Pearl, don’t forget your coat and your bottle of Jack.”

 

 

March 17, 2020

It’s As Plain As The Stubs On Your Face.

Filed under: Dr. Pearl, exposition comics, Gil Thorp, Pissy faced Gil — tdrewhardin @ 5:38 am

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We FINALLY get to the end of this kangaroo court even though P3 is leaving an opening wide enough for a Mack truck to drag us down another 8 weeks before we get to baseball. We THINK Gil is talking about suspending Teddy but anybody who’s been tailing this more than Friday and Gannon know not to hold your breath. Even with legitimate witnesses and an investigation that should have never been an investigation, there’s evidence to suggest Gil might be talking about Chris. We won’t know until tomorrow and it’s a crock anyway you choose it. As Yogi Berra once said, if you see a fork in the road, take it. I just don’t want the fork. Especially when, after being promised a filet mignon, I am forced to use that fork on a Banquet TV Dinner. Frozen meat loaf with pocket-sized mashed potatoes and a brownie that’s an art exhibit after taking it out of the microwave, no thank you. I’ll take my plastic fork and try to pry some of the blackheads off Teddy’s face.

Gil, before we go any further, I have a piece of sandpaper that I obtained out of Dr. Pearl’s file cabinet that ought to remove those stains that Teddy is afflicted with. I figure that as long as removing the stains you COULDN’T see, i.e., Teddy’s snaky ethics and dirtball intentions, was not high on your priority list that we might as well clean up SOMETHING. You couldn’t wipe up Teddy’s slime with a Bounty towel. No quick picker-upper When Teddy Met Chrissy.

And what’s this “Prove it”? We are required by law to look under Dr. Pearl’s desk and in her purse and in her wig for documentation, comb the Milford Public Library and ask everybody from the Milford Public Library CEO to the Milford Public Library Board of Directors to the Milford Public Library Director of Annual Giving, The Milford Public Library Lead Book Stacker in charge of Western Fiction, the Milford Public Library Union Steward (safer working conditions, no lifting of Mad Magazine boxes heavier than 70 lbs., coffee breaks with donuts and free Elmore Leonard reading materials after working 4 hours) , on down to the sanitation engineer (gotta keep the Ellery Queen Magazine stacks sterile) , consult with the students from Alexa and Phoebe to Greg and Peter and Bobby and Marcia and Jan and Cindy, throw in Beaver and Lumpy and Dobie Gillis and Maynard P. Krebs to ask if they noted any foul play (the PSAT test taker sitting next to you has sometimes wound up in a plastic bag in a ditch behind the school) ,call (collect) the SAT Review Board, the PSAT Testing Committee, the LSAT Steering Committee (as in “if you want this plot to drag on another month, form a committee”) , the AP Calculus II Test Booklet District Manager, and the Proctor in Charge of Distribution of #2 Pencils at the Milford High School Gymnasium for test scores to solidify evidence that Chris could perform quadratic equations without using multiplication tables, all to ensure that Chris, an Honor student with no history and plenty of the future ahead of him, is on the the level and when we FINALLY see light at the end of the tunnel, a tunnel we should have never taken, we have to backtrack that same tunnel while using Habeas Corpus on behalf of Teddy? Gil and Dr. Pearl, THIS IS SCHOOL. Anybody who disrupts the educational process, SOMETHING THAT HAS BEEN DOCUMENTED SIGNIFICANTLY IN TEDDY’S CASE deserves to be due-processed. What’s next, he’s entitled to one phone call and a free meal from the Milford Salvation Army kitchen? A trip to the mall so we can pick out his prison outfit? He wears an extra large and throw in a razor. That actually has blades. Call Perry Mason. He’s been known to acquit the impossible.

Because I don’t really know why ANYBODY would lick a toilet to prove a point about coronavirus

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Teddy DeMarco Arraigned In Court After Incident In Dr. Pearl’s Personal Water Closet!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“She wears the nastiest dentures. Still had Snickers stains on them. They looked tacky on top of her Ban Roll-On.”

 

Dr. Pearl, do you always bury your head in the file cabinet? I mean, Gang, when was the last time you EVER caught her at a sporting event? She’s like Ms. Rizk, perpetually glued to her room. There were eyewitness reports that she was seen throwing out the first pitch when Joe Tinker, Johnny Evers, and Frank Chance were playing for the Cubs. Beat the Pirates in a rout. She declined cutting the ribbon when they opened up Fenway. I couldn’t imagine her eating popcorn and downin’ a Bud by the Green Monster anyway. At least Granny Clampett stepped out of the swamp to move to Beverly Hills. Dr. Pearl, I hope that’s not cow manure you’re stepping on when you’re filing away the Sophomore PE Final Bell Curve Report 1984.

“Dr. Pearl, I have a lug wrench in my trunk. Your head ought to be out of the second shelf in no time.”

“No, that’s okay, Gil. Sometimes my bee hive gets caught on the shelf tracking when I’m storing Junior Class Betting Forms. There’s a screw loose under the shelf above it. One flick of the wrist with the bobby pin and I’m free as a bird.”

“Sure you don’t want Barr’s Leeks to pry you loose?”

“No, it’ll mess up the coloring in my hair and I have a Valley Conference Administrator’s Summit tonight at 8.”

 

If ya file away yore marriage licence of all the in-laws ya done got hitched to, even the ones ya pur-formed without the services of a shotgun, ya might be a redneck.

 

And what do you mean GRIND? Like that came as a surprise? Gil, once you and Dr. Pearl extricate your heads from the sink in Dr. Pearl’s WC, you’ll find out that Chris studies and works hard and minds his own business. Unlike Teddy who’s a total jerk and already has a history on him. Dr. Pearl, I’m surprised you didn’t locate his record as long as your head’s been implanted between Teacher Evaluation Reports and Yearly School Bus Schedule. You and Gil ought to try Liquid Plumber. The stuff does wonders.

BTW, can I pluck one of your Hershey Bars off the wall? All this castigating worked up an appetite.

 

Coach Kaz enters Dr. Pearl’s hole after a Geography Teacher Enrichment Seminar at Westview High (“How do you get Funky Winkerbean to memorize the county seats of Rhode Island? Well, B. F. Skinner conducted a study…”) , home of the Fightin’ Scapegoats

“Dr. Pearl, watcha grillin’? Jalapeno Hamburgers? Pork rinds? London broil? Roundhouse steak? Gil Thorp Pure Pork Italian Sausage? Did you remember to marinade the burgers with A-1? It’s got a little Jack in the bottle but-”

“Oh, that streak in the window?”

 

But I think a suspension is in order. (Banging head) Oh, I forgot to tell you, Gang, I was talking about the plot. I forgot we’re flipping a coin between Teddy and Chris.

While Luhm is implementing a crowbar to un-jackknife Dr. Pearl’s from the left-hand drawer at her desk

“Okay, Dr. Pearl, heads it’s Chris, tails it’s Teddy. Call it.”

“Heads.”

Coin rolls along the floor, bumping into Dr. Pearl’s pump and falling flat. Luhm makes the call

“Heads. Chris gets In-School for book-grinding for 2 weeks.”

“Uh, how’ bout 2 out of 3, Dr. Pearl?”

 

I think you get the message, Gang. Now to see who wins the coin flip tomorrow.

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry is Dionne Warwick. I just melt when I hear her music. A six-time Grammy winner including hits like “Do You Know The Way to San Jose?” and “I’ll Never Fall in Love Again”, she was able to perform and still raise her kids. The minute the show was done, she caught the red-eye flight home to be with her family. And she has two sons heavily involved in the music industry to show for it. Many people don’t know that her real last name is “Warrick”. A printing error while records were on the assembly line prompted her to keep the new name as she felt it was catchy. No argument here. A giving person, she was nominated for Goodwill Ambassador for the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations. She is well-respected by her colleagues, including The Beatles and Elton John. Please join me in saluting a woman who’s one of the greatest female vocalists of all time.

 

“We’ll be back to see which gets yanked out first, the dead oak tree stump on the Milford Public Library grounds or Dr. Pearl’s head in the water cooler at the faculty lounge at Milford High School on Milford Believe it or Not! Museum Hour after these messages. This is WDIG-TV”

 

“That could take some doing. A Drott hydraulic-powered bulldozer operating on all cylinders to rescue a damsel in distress from the water cooler kept me on the edge of my recliner. But I always liked a good mystery.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp speaking for Milford Beverage Warehouse. Here’s a deal you can pull out of the ground anytime and you don’t need to go the dentist to get it pulled. The good people at Milford Plumbing Solutions felt that the promotion with the toilets and booze combo went over so well that they are extending the promotion from now until the end of April. You still have time to replace that jalopy that won’t send the shit through the pipes faster than to your liking. And we’re talking top-of-the-line equipment. No commodes on consignment here.

Want the Broyhill Royal Flush Supreme? Man, I’m amazed at the low water consumption on this bad boy. How I could piss me a river and the fluid still remain clear on just a glass of water just flat-out boggled my mind. And the good news is, you can have this latest in pissing state-of-the-art technology for what you would write a check on your kids’ School Lunch at Milford Elementary plus two cases of Coors 24-Pak in the 12 ounce cans. Oh boy, if I can save a buck while taking a dump, I’ll head to the Mountain every time.

How ’bout the Ethan Allen ’76er Colonial Special? Doncha just want to take your mind off things in the same potty our Forefathers dumped in? And because it’s guaranteed clog-free, George Washington was Father of our Country in part because he never had to use a toilet plunger. For a Ben Franklin and a purchase of Maker’s Mark Whisky 1.75 L, you can sit and read Popular Mechanics on a throne Thomas Jefferson sat on. Makes me want to write an amendment to the Declaration of Independence.

Does the toilet seat have a mind of its own? Do you feel like a crocodile is snapping at you every time you encounter diarrhea and you make one too many trips to the Nile? No problemo. American Standard Premium Toilet uses a computer-based system for that slow close on that seat every time. And The Warehouse won’t charge you an arm or a leg. Just a swipe of your Milford Teachers Federal Credit Union credit card and a grocery cart full of Kim Crawford Sauvignon Blanc Lo-Cal will have the delivery driver from Milford Plumbing Solutions installing your new-found toy faster than you can say “Don’t get the runs from Rice Chex”.

But don’t let my butt be the judge. Come see for yourself how The Good Life and toilets are not only not strange bedfellows but solid partners in keeping customers satisfied and constipation-free. Get your own butt down here and sit on these deals and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

Gang, thank you for your continued support. You mean the world to me.

Damn, Teddy, you ARE in front of a camera. At least use a dish towel.

 

“Do you have an open-end socket wrench?”

“3/8th or 7/16th?”

“Don’t matter. Long as I can turn so that it don’t strip the T-bolt, I’m good.”

“Probably gonna need a ball peen hammer. I got in my tool box in my truck. Don’t worry, Dr. Pearl, we’ll getcha loose from that cactus plant before your bridge tournament.”

March 12, 2020

You Might Check Mr. Drysdale’s Bank Vault. Sometimes AP Exams Get Mixed Up With The Clampett’s Deposits.

Filed under: Coach Kaz, Gil Thorp, huge earrings, Prairie Style Windows, Recycled art — tdrewhardin @ 1:40 am

031220

Come and listen to my story ’bout a man named Chris

Poor schmuck got sidetracked by a bucket full of piss

Maybe one day Gil will get to the truth

Gil’s tactics shape so badly too short of the tooth

 

4.0 student, Gil

Unsubstantiated claims

Easter Island head

 

Will somebody please wake up Gil and apprise him that if he’s going to be out of the office like he’s been the last several weeks, that he just can’t pop back in and start a witch hunt on evidence that is as shaky as Dr. Pearl’s skin medication? Boy, if they gotta apply the truth to her face, it might not cover all the wrinkles. You might apply Pond’s Medicated Cream to Teddy Blue’s Hair. It’ll still look ugly, but wow, the Mohawk sparkles and shines. Granny Clampett and Clearasil, I’m layin’ my money on that venture before Gil gets his bell rung and stops giving credibilty to the warts on Teddy’s head. Can’t use Oxy 5 on a Mohawk, the way I understand it.

We might as well employ the services of Jed Clampett. Go out in that buggy of his and take his shotgun with him. I wouldn’t want to be in Teddy’s shoes now. I wouldn’t want a man pulling up in my driveway in a contraption meant for coon-hunting and oil well-discovering, some old lady who’s following him carrying a jar full of Bucket Possum Gizzards.

“Well, no, Mr. DeMarco, that’s whut I came fer, ta git ta the bottom uv this. Now if ya say that he wuz swimmin’ in our hole in the back afore thuh gators came out fer feeedin’ time, I believe ya. I reckon I kin reason with ol’ Chris over it.”

“Ye-ahh, an’ ya tell ‘um that if he jumps in that hole agin, I’ll set thuh trap and he’ll be lunch fer them gators.”

“Now, Granny, simmer down. We ain’t gonna make Chris a sacri-fish-ull lamb. We’ll wait until he takes the exam, then we’ll spring the gators on him. Ol’ Jethro’s one uv thuh proctors and he kin slip the gators past security.”

“I still think if yuh tote one of them gators ta Gil’s office, ya might scare the tarnation out of both of ’em. Then they both might be honest fer once.”

“I dunno, Granny. Ya might have better luck gittin’ Jethro ta show up at his weddin’ than ol’ Gil showin’ up at his position, ‘specially when the truth’s at stake. Reckon ya might throw another one ’em T-bone slabs at the gators fer good meassure.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Denies Any Affairs With Granny, Says Relationship Is On The Up And Up!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Nowhere near common-law. I just ate some sauteed toad legs and taters at her table one night, that’s all.”

 

You gotta be kidding me, Thorp. Yes, it IS serious but NO, it isn’t Chris you need to speak with. Someone needs to use a gator trap on your Rock ’em Sock ’em head and squeeze the truth out of you.

Earth to Gil. As the readers have accurately pointed out WHERE DID TEDDY GET THOSE TESTS????? That’s the first thing you need to be asking before you drag an Honor student in your office and ask him the equivalent of whether he ever settled on his overdue parking fines. Yeah, you should pay them eventually but if some jackass is ridin’ the streets of Milford in his Harley at 80MPH in a School Zone, there’s no sense in takin’ Chris to the station when Teddy is using Milford for the Indianapolis 500. It’s the spectacle of racing, all right, and I’m not referring to the city. I bet you might find out that Teddy doesn’t have a license to ride that thing. Probably got his registration out of the Milford Pawn Shoppe. Y’know, the BOGO scenario. No wonder why Teddy was able to get that and a grocery sack full of AP exams.

 

“Can I see your driver’s license and registration, Mr. Clampett?”

“Weeeellll, dogie, Officer, I think my registration is buried under ’em PSAT’s in the glove box. Would ya settle fer my driver’s license and Barron’s Guide to the Hunting Laws Exam?”

 

Well, the first thing ya know, ol’ Chris is in the soup

Gil Thorp said, Chris, wipe your shoes of poop

He said, Harvard Law School is the place ya oughta be

So Chris got out of Milford and dumped this travesty

 

Or Yale, Gil

Good students

Teddy in the bottom of a Beverly Hills pool

 

“Weeeeeellllll, dogie, Granny, I didn’t knows ya wuz the princ’pal of Milferd High. A student done told us when me and Elly May wuz cleanin’ the girls gym of skeeters and lice. Did Gil do the hirin’ ‘n’ firin’?”

P2 is about the only thing I agree with in this commedia dell’arte and none of it is spoken. His shooting form is on-point, having worked with kids on their shooting and humbly claiming some success after a few of those kids made the team somewhere. They took the wins, I took the losses.

That said, ORAL commentary is a joke and leading absolutely nowhere. Changes in attitude, changes in latidude, we couldn’t play, we would just go insane. What’s sad is that somebody will have the utter nerve to ask why Chris didn’t turn in the contraband to Granny Pearl rather than be taken out of the incinerator at Milford Waste Management. Thorp and Granny, if you aren’t smart enough to quit giving credence to a class clown who is more clown than class, ain’t no way I’m steppin’ in the fire and gettin’ that char-broiled SAT test and clearin’ my name. Flame-broiled burgers taste better when the cook grills them without adding Chiquita banana peels.

I remember when Will McDonough, a well-respected journalist, still employed dubious reasoning on NFL Today on CBS with Brent Musburger and Terry Bradshaw when McDonough reported that one NFL team complained that another NFL team was spying on their practices and thus crying foul. Bradshaw blitzed McDonough and rightfully so when he answered “Will, if you see a couple of idiots in the stands with binoculars and taking notes and you’re not smart enough to run ’em off, WHY BRING IT UP?????”

Gil and Granny, if you don’t run off a class clown wannabe, knowing his record, WHY BRING IT UP????? He didn’t even use binoculars. Granny, I assume you checked the file cabinet on the dude’s record. Bettin’ that’s thicker than your Anti-Aging medication in your purse.

“Don’t try to hoodwink me, Jethro. I run a venerable institution. If Miss Hathaway said she saw Chris walking out with a stack of 100’s, then I believe her. He can’t just walk out and bank those in the Nerfhoop. That’s what a Nerfball is for.”

“Now hold on, Mr. Drysdale. I knows Chris. If I thought he wuz a dishonorable man, I wouldn’t a taken him ta go fishin’ down at the creek. I counted all my worms and I had all my ducks in a row when I wuz loadin’ the bait.”

“Nonsense. You better watch your fishing equipment. If I can’t trust him with crickets, by God, I surely can’t trust him when he’s checking on his IRA account at the teller window.”

“Ya mean, that one at the end of the counter? Shut my mouth, she’s cuter ‘n’ a bug’s ear. I’ll take ‘er on a fly-fishin’ outing at Mudlark Lake anytime. I reckon I’ll catch more than fish.”

 

If yore huntin’ license is en-dang-urred cuz ya hunted 1,243 snipe and the bag limit wuz 1,242, not countin’ the tare from all the millworms in the bag, ya might be a redneck.

 

“We need to get to the bottom of this. His reputation and his future is at stake. I would hate for his good name to be tarnished over a student who failed to exhibit proper foresight. Look into this incident and report back to me tomorrow.”

“Right away, Dr. Pearl. Is there anything else about Gil you want me to find out? I heard he was pulled over at The Bucket Drive-In area for a DUI. Too many Bucket Creme de Menthe’s in the Bucket Shake.”

“No, Ms. Rizk, that won’t be necessary. Obtaining that receipt Theodore dropped by the Milford School Bookstore is crucial. We need to confirm that Gil wasn’t using fake test booklets on the PE volleyball exam. That is was a plant by Theodore.”

“Said and done, Dr. Pearl.”

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry is Pat Summitt, who coached the University of Tennessee’s Women’s Basketball program for 38 years. A hard-nosed, no-nonsense individual, she became the first U. S. Olympian to win a medal as a player and a coach (Silver in 1976-player, Gold in 1984-coach) . Her teams won 8 National Championships under her guidance, including an undefeated season in 1998. She was listed in the Sporting News as the 11th-best coach of all time on the 50-Best Coaches List (MLB, NHL, NFL, NBA, College Football, College Basketball) . She is 2nd all-time in wins, 1098, behind Mike Krzyzewski at Duke. Plus all of her players graduated, many with honors. And 25 people came out of her program to be head or assistant coaches in other programs. Please join me in saluting a great coach who won big while touching the lives of many.

 

“Weeeeeellllll, dogie, Granny, nuthin’ like a room with a view. And that tree is probably older than you are. I used ta go huntin’ by these here woods and my bloodhounds would tree more squirrels up that sorry excuse fer a poplar than Dr. Pearl had wrinkles.”

“Eeeeeeeeeeee, just wishin’ they’d quit comin’ in here when I’m ironin’. I gotta still work on Elly May’s calico dress. I’ll get the facts about Ol’ Chrissy later. Personally, I’d tan his hide fer cheatin’ but I still gotta listen to the judge.”

“I understand the judge went down ta Milford Lounge with Mimi ta sing kar-ee-okee. They wuz singin’ ‘My Endless Love’.”

“If they don’t sing any better ‘n’ Lionel Richie, don’t be afraid ta use yer shotgun ta stop the comp-a-tish-shun.”

“I reckon I won’t need ta be so drastic. Granny, here’s more grease I picked up from under m’ buggy. It’ll git that wart off yer nose plain as Kaz in a panel.”

 

“We’ll be back for the conclusion of ‘The Mudlark Hillbillies’ after this.”

 

OUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YEOOWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!

ARRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“My name is Thomaston W. Snipe III and I was all set to passing the bar after graduating Summa Cum Laude at Milford Community College School of Law. But the proctors got the tests mixed up and I didn’t know I was taking the Final Exam of Milford Culinary Academy until I got to the section on Oven Pre-Heating Procedures. It took me 3 months before I could get a job as a lawyer. I had my foot lopped off sleeping on the Milford & Oakwood rail line while I was waiting for the officials to correct a most grievoud error. Then a student of Emeril said he had burned his fingers frying Shake and Bake Pork Fritters. He got a hefty settlement and told me to call The Shark.”

 

“Don’t that beat all. Tripe III was in a world of hurt getting torts mixed up with tortes. I showed him that one of them you didn’t leave on the stove nor use Pam to bake in the pan with it. Neglect and forgetting to set the timer while the Rice-a-Roni Spanish Rice boiled in overtime caused my client to lose his leg. We fought the insurance company and made sure that Milford Culinary Academy paid my client what he deserved.”

“I got $6,000,000,000,000,001 for the trouble. The Shark took a dollar out to pay for the pop out of the machine. I am not only now a practicing lawyer, I also learned how to boil water before you throw the eggs into scramble. That Culinary Academy book that Teddy stuck in my briefcase was a treasure trove of information. Thanks, Shark.”

“You heard the man. Call Sharkey Law Offices at 1-FON-THE-JAWS today and get your own slice of the pie. You don’t need Kenner Easy Oven to get the money you deserve. One call, that’s all.”

 

Gang, you mean the world to me. And I’ll be back to talk with you some more after I finish that second helping of Bucket Possum Gizzards

 

Well, now it’s time to say goodbye and send this on its way

The facts will never rise to live another day

We hope you folks don’t come next week to this locality

To have a heavin’ helpin’ of this railroadin’ jamboree

 

Failed intentions

Lost grip on reality

Don’t come back, Gil, ya hear?

 

“Chief, really, Chris is an honorable young man. I just don’t think he would jeopardize his potential over a few simoleons.”

“I won’t hear of it, Miss Hathaway. That boy will go to Milford Maximum or this bank will suffer. What will my stockholders think?”

“Now, hold on, Mr. Drysdale. Chris ain’t sich a bad kid. Just cuz he got no direction frum Gil don’t mean ya gotta punish him with th’ whip. She’s got a point. I saw ol’ Chris help a skunk up that ugly tree behind Dr. Pearl’s office. Cougar ’bout ate ’em both alive. Chris shewed a picher uv Gil’s hair and ya shoulda that beast go flyin’.”

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