This Week in Milford

August 3, 2021

A Clockwork Red.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 5:29 pm

Stanley Kubrick scored some great hits that were avant-garde and always with a twist. As Frank Capra, the great director (“It’s a Wonderful Life”) , once said “Don’t follow trends, start them.”Kubrick did just that. Scintillating, concise scriptwriting, excellent acting from actors and actresses with something to prove, storylines that left you hanging off a cliff, “Full Metal Jacket” and “2001: A Space Odyssey” exemplify the genius that was Kubrick.

His masterpiece perhaps was “A Clockwork Orange”, a critically acclaimed but highly controversial flick. Most X-rated movies in the ’60’s and ’70’s were X-rated because the film contained too much smut or pornography. Not this one. It was violent from the opening credits to the final curtain. And if Kubrick did not have a hand in this, I never would have commented on the movie due to its extremely graphic overtones. Being a Christian, I tend to shy away from movies of this ilk but respect Kubrick for his creativity, excellent plot development, and overall great sense on how to make a movie so I reluctantly gave in with the self-understanding that I will only lightly touch the movie. Plus, the color coordination has been horrible the last 2-3 days so I had to insert today’s title. Ya blame me?

And of course, Con Artist Hendricks can’t resist wanting to up the stakes and play for more than bragging rights. Like he’d wager against his own mother if she were on the links. Don’t worry, Mom, if I take you to the cleaners, you can always pay in installments and well within the time where I have to call the loan shark to send The Sopranos to your door. I’m pretty flexible. If you see a Girl Scout troop roaming the streets of Milford without their uniforms, rest assured, they should have never crossed paths with ol’ Con on Hole #3 Dog Leg Left, putting their merit badges and lunch money on the line. Marty Moon meets Captain Kangaroo.

The problem here is that, young as Heather Burns is, she is a consenting adult so Gil’s possible angle at “You hustle defenseless college graduates too?”really isn’t going to wash and I get this sick-gut feeling that’s part of where Gil is going with this, regardless of the denouement. Leave it to Gil to call a guy on the carpet who suckers high-income golfers and pulls wings off of flies. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, I’m running to Gil for advice. No, Heather, you lose the game ball you earned back when you were a fledgling football player and fledgling person to some shark who putts better than he tells the truth, don’t try to get out of it with “I thought you were kidding”. Take your golf balls and go home because he just took YOUR ball and went home.

Hey, I have an idea. Heather can play for all those visors Carter is wearing. She’s bound to win one, if you’ll overlook the Maturity of Chances Fallacy. She’s due a hand, right?

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Cooler Heads Prevail At The Milford Country Club!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“O.J. : ‘I ain’t bettin’ my MVP trophy from Milford Adult Flag Football League with Carter. I have standards, y’know.”

I remember a Charlie Brown cartoon where Charlie Brown, Lucy, and Linus are lying on a hill somewhere, observing the sky. And Lucy sees clouds shaped like Il Barbiere di Seviglia in the 4th Movement expressing the mood of the people as the Italian Romantic period was designed to do, Linus sees Sigmund Freud in the cloud forms, especially when he is lecturing on the id and superego to his class at the University of Vienna, Charlie Brown says he was going to say he saw a ducky and a horsey but decided to pass.

Well, there’s plenty of duckys and horseys in the tree forms today. One is a definite Smurf horsey while the other looks like Sergeant Snorkel at 80 years old. Or wait, Alfred Hitchcock on Bad Hair Day. Then there’s the rough draft of Marmaduke up above those. What tree line would be complete without America’s favorite pain-in-the-neck? Then the top tree clump is displaying The Yellow Kid upside down. Will wonders never cease. I think I’ll bet a tree profile of Barney Google with Carter. No money involved, what do I have to lose?

If ya bet ol’ Con Man the shrubbery that resembles Dr. Pearl’s beehive hairdo because ya ain’t bettin’ yore gun cuz that is sacred pro-pur-tee, ya might be a redneck.

Doncha love how the script writes itself such as in P2? Like what did anybody EXPECT Gil to say? Sure, Carter, I have a couple of Benjamins in my wallet. How much are you willing to wager? You got change? I may have to have some when I stop on the way home. Mimi wanted me to get milk and eggs. Oh, and Heather isn”t breaking the bank but she’s willing to put up the loose change she has on her person. Dialing for Quarters, a new concept in wagering on the golf course. I’m sorry, I couldn’t see Fred Flintstone mortgaging his house including Dino because his golf game left a lot to be desired. Does Thorpiverrse really expect us to believe that Gil or Fred were going to take the bait and put their IRA’s on the line? Oh, it’d be a change of pace, what with Fred being at some Bedrock soup kitchen if he did fritter his financial wad with some hustler on the Bedrock Public Golf Course but what would we do NEXT WEEK???? Watch The Flintstones where the whole family is at a shelter house? Does Thorpiverse really think there’ll be several episodes where The Brady Bunch are sleeping in a tent under a freeway bridge because Msrcia Brady bet more than the family station wagon with Carter? That’s right, T-verse, let Gil put up his hand and his foot down in P2 and let’s not EVEN imagine the scenarios that could ensue. Let Ward Cleaver bet his family away but Gil is staying put. Wise move.

Besides, we have serious coloring issues on the Gil Front. The day before, Gil was wearing Carolina blue but the next day he is decked out in Hoosier red. And Carter was wearing Gil’s Hoosier red shirt the day before and now he switched to Light Lavender. Yup, alter the color scheme when you’re upping the ante. And this might be the strategem employed by T-verse. Psych ’em out with your variegated wardrobe, it’ll throw off their golf game every time. But I think Con Man has met his match this time as Gil wore a Hoosier red cap to accentuate the point. You’re not pulling a fast one, Con Man, I wore my Cheese Head this time. Hey, it worked at Lambeau Field, why not at MCC? Go ahead, change your visor from yellow to orange all you want. I have plenty more Cheese Heads in my closet. I always beat my opppoment through attrition.

Gil one day being subjected to the Ludovico Technique at Milford High School auditorium.

“Now, Coach Thorp, it’s very simple, we think we can cure this comic of bad plot designs by forcing you to watch the the last 60 years of your endeavors.”

30 minutes later

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOOPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!! I WAS THAT BAD????????? AND MIMI AND I NEVER HAD SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Better watch your backside, Heather. Since when did Penelope Pitstop ever stop Dick Dastardly from being the scoundrel he was just because she told him she was a poor defenseless female, pretty much what you’re saying in P2? Did that EVER stop Dick or Carter???? And when they’re essentially the same person, that just compounds the interest. The dude with the chameleon visor simply doesn’t own a dog named Muttley. Heather, we’re not dealing with Dunderhead Pelwicki here, you can’t play on a level playing field and expect a shark to do the same. Think of Carter as Alex DeLarge but without the golf stick to gouge Gil’s eye. Oh, he’s going to gouge at the end of the match but it’s all legal. Penelope, you need to walk away or Dick Dastardly will have your pizza coupons too. He’ll have a free pepperoni to throw to Muttley. Be thankful Alex and his droogs didn’t repossess your car.

All right, Gene Rayburn is on the golf course with the rest of the group to stabilize the scores. Ready for ya, Gene

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought when Carter was playing for fun that her ______________________ was safe.”

Oh, no worries, Heather. I know you are just starting out in the world. We’ll just play for nothing at stake and if you stomp my ass by 30 strokes, no hard feelings. I just need to get an attitude adjustment with the golfing pro. But if I beat you, I won’t ask for anything but a handshake. I realize I have a bum rap but there is no sense wondering if I’m going to take your Titleists as well as you to the cleaners because I’m a man of my word. When I say I want your savings in a cashier’s check, I truly mean it. Don’t have Sonny Corleone knocking at your door. Otherwise, the match is purely for Christian fellowship and fun.

Heather, if you and Gil fall for that one, I have plenty of mutant trees behind the football stadium to sell you cheap.

Gang, Carter will not change his visor to UCLA blue and gold. Their athletic office called and threatened to sue. Otherwise, God bless you, Gang.

“The Ludovico Technique has thoroughly cured Coach Thorp of bad plot concepts and horrible unrealistic outcomes. The Psychiatric Department staff here at Milford Community College is confident that henceforth, the panels will display a full plethora of fresh ideas and innovative approaches. Are we not correct, Coach Thorp?”

“Certainly. In fact, to coordinate with these changes, I upped Mimi’s basketball schedule from 5 games to 6 games. There’ll be more drama involved.”

“Well, we still have a few bugs to iron out with Coach Thorp.”

July 29, 2021

Sorry, We’re Used To Calling Gil “Your Highness” And Genuflecting Before We Start Practice.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 6:45 pm

Now I want make one thing perfectly clear, to quote Richard Milhouse Nixon. If Marjie treated Heather to a glass of water, Heather deserves to be starting as the janitor for the Milford Star come Monday. And bring your sandpaper, Burns, you’ll need it to sandblast the week-old poopie stains in the commode. I mean, when Marjie “Don’t call me God, God never crawled through the AC vents for a story” Ducey offered to pay for both of them, I had more in mind coffee and danish. Ok, Heather, if you want the Chicken Enchilada w/ Grits, Cornbread Extra, that comes out of your own pocket. We may be colleagues but that doesn’t make me a sugar daddy. Fair enough.

But when I didn’t see a coffee cup or any buns except for Maureen’s daughter’s hair yesterday, it made me wonder what Heather was getting on the house. Okay, I’ll say it was perhaps a Coke or a shake but I am saying that VERY reluctantly. But isn’t that the way the plot is going so far, we’re expecting a smorgasbord but getting bread and water, the bill of fare down at Milford Detention Center? Marjie, you’ll scale down the chimney to get a scoop on the football team but you’re too damn cheap to pay for the daily special? When we were expecting spaghetti and biscuits, we got a sob story about some benchwarmer and stale croutons. We wanted steak and potato on our plate, admittedly asking a lot at Maureen’s place, but got a Lifesaver and the soliloquy from Rush’s 2112 album. And let’s not mention dessert. It’s hard to put humble pie in a doggie bag. My, you are so generous, Marjie. I bet you spread your largesse to all your incipient cub reporters like this. Don’t worry, Maureen Junior will be by to wipe the croutons off the table.

I know my alma mater has to advertise but I still scratch my head why it gave a street address. Like is UCLA on Primrose Lane? Or Duke on Baker Street? Anyway

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Post Office In A Fog Over General Delivery To Milford Community College!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Milford Postmaster: ‘We attempted delivery to 1634 Mudlark Lane but the establishment was vacant and did not leave a forwarding address’.”

And I know some of these diners like to maintain an art deco feel and being a HUGE fan of Mike Wallis who has written about The West and in particular Route 66, face it, nostalgia sells and don’t think investors and restaurant owners aren’t keenly aware of that. That’s why (thankfully) Route 66 has made a comeback and eating establishments, such as Ted Drewes in St. Louis, cement that turn-back-in-time people crave. But there is no way I am traveling down Historic Route 66 and stopping at the structure in P1. I’ve never known burgers to be grilled in a woodshed. That objet d’art couldn’t fit ants in an anthill, much less the characters on Boulevard of Broken Dreams. Elvis is going to be cramped serving chicken noodle soup to Humphrey and Marilyn.

Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, Dime Ducey only had enough philanthropy to pay for the Dasani so it’s not like Heather will be chowing down on salisbury steak and steamed veggies in a closet. You couldn’t even get your kicks in Route 66 in that work of art, your feet wouldn’t have enough room. Maybe one day Thorpiverse will travel Route 66 and hit a real diner. One where the roof isn’t in the corner booth. And Marjie will actually do lunch next time, not talk about it. And the plot will make progress. Ehhhhhh, that may too much on one’s plate, literally.

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Almost Banished From Rat Pack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Reconciliation Is Nearing A Climax!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“We informed Mr. Thorp that when ordering at The Diner that the Stewed Tomatoes Platter gives Frankie acid reflux.”

We get to the heart of this story or this particular strip anyway in P2. Still really unclear why this touching piece of storytelling is being related over water gratis but I reckon Dime Ducey has her reasons, not to mention Thorpiverse who is encouraging this Scroogean conversation. And if we’re talking anything on the field, I have to believe Heather is talking of the football variety. Were any of you as confused as I was when she talked about a third-string center and nsturally believed it was basketball that tied in in with that? I don’t think there’s a third-string center in volleyball or a third-string center in soccer. BUT there is a third-center in football, I believe the dude who snaps the football.

But this entertains more questions. Is he third on the depth chart because he hiked the football up the quarterback’s crotch one too many times? That’ll find a seat on the bench for sure. Okay, he sailed the ball over the punter’s head and it landed directly into Gil’s martini. Hoo boy, you better practice your technique or you’ll be a FOURTH-string center. Wait a minute, the nose tackle handled him like a rag doll, body-slammed him, threw him through the ropes, and failed to get up from the 3-count. Well, you might not be the starting center but you’ll be vying for a job with Freezer Thompson when he takes on Jerry Lawler on Milford Saturday Afternoon Wrestling.

And Marjie Ducey wrote a piece on Freezer Thompson. Now that’s what I call inspiration. That’s right, he has a beer gut the size of an elephant, gets kicked in the private area when he’s not slammed into the turnbuckle, he even gets beat by another stooge, Mr. Clyde, when Lawler and Jarrett aren’t having their way with him but by gum, he gets back up for more. Until, of course, when the bell signals the 3-count, indicating that the match is over. But at least this particular Mudlark was battling all the way, even when he was out cold on the concrete floor when Lawler slung him through the ropes. Dime Ducey, you have a way with feel-good journalistic pieces when you’re not kissing Gil’s ring. You go, Ducey.

If ya is tha third-string left guard fer the football team cuz ya need ta per-fekt yore Pile Driver tech-neek after ya saw Lawler ex-ee-cute the same man-oo-ver on Superstar Bill Dundee on Milford Championship Wrasslin’ Hour, Dave Brown, Lance Russell, and Coach Shaw with the call, ya might be a redneck.

Funny how you mention the word “anonymous”, Heather. You may have been the upstart a couple of years ago but don’t interpret that to mean you’ll be dethroning Gil anytime soon. Just because you’ve graduated from calling Ms. Ducey to calling her cheapskate now doesn’t mean you can go from Coach Thorp to Clueless Gil. Ol’ Clueless has a way of keeping his assistants humble and faceless. Oh, Gil will append a name occasionally, as Coach Shaw and Steve Boone can testify. But La-Dee-Da, they ain’t steering the S.S. Thorp just because they got a name tag safety-pinned to them at football practice. Like, are the kids going to go “Is he calling the plays this week against Oakwood because I notice Gil gave Coach Boone a shirt with ‘Steve’ sewn on it.” Like anytime you see Mimi at the spinning wheel or cotton gin, somebody’s getting promoted by kickoff.

Heather “Call Me Marjie” Burns, you better wake up and smell the Folgers. Gil is not about to leave the strip after 60 years of ineptitude and he won’t leave for the sake of an Iowa graduate who talks about her career plans over sustenance Marjie could have obtained from the water fountain and not be compelled to utilize her Visa Gold. I am sure you’ll have a heavy hand in the running of the football team but in the bigger picture, Gil is still steering the Titanic. Don’t get any bright ideas.

Afternoon Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Community College Athletic Department Deluged With Dormitory Mail Due To Miscommunication!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Milford Postmaster: ‘We have informed our customers numerous times to insert the 4-additional numbers to the zip code.”

Well, Marjie, gotta go. All this talk about my role with Gil worked up an appetite. Next time, I’ll buy the water.

And is that a BILL on the table? All I’m seeing is a piece of paper and the possible winning combination for the Milford Lottery. And again, WHAT did they order? All I saw was Maureen a/k/a Maureen deliver 2 tall ones and that was it. No t-bone steaks. No mashed potatoes. No buffet selections. No raiding the soup buffet. Maybe I’m missing something but if you’re left picking up the tab, you pay for more than the water out of the kitchen tap. Oh, Heather may HAVE to run as in THE RUNS if the water causes her to cramp from all the plagues coming out of the faucet. We are talking The Diner, where The Health Department slaps it with fines after devouring cream-chipped beef at lunch break.

And I’m not entirely convinced that this is the start of a solid relationship between the two. I haven’t seen Heather lunge through the bathroom window to get to practice. Heather has her morals even if she still has no discipline. She may flip off soccer to be Gil’s flunky but she hasn’t slithered yet. First time for everything but she’d probably stomach the cream-chipped beef first, flies and all. In the end, have Marjie use The Diner catering services at their next rendevous and I’ll be sold on their being colleagues.

“And we’re live at The Diner interviewing Heather Burns. Now make sure you eat all your carrots so you can see Gil at the bottom of the bowl. We’ll be back to see if she drinks all her milk after these messages. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

In the den of the Shaw household one evening, Coach Shaw at the Singer sewing machine

“WOW!!!!!!! I’ll be looking sexy in this shirt!!!!!!!!!!! Those players will be impressed by this Hanes T-shirt Mauve with a Plaid Pattern and my name square on the appare-“

“HONNNNNEEEEEYYYYYYYYY, I’M HORNY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh shit, what do you want NOW, Woman?”

“What any woman wants at bedtime. A chance to get intimate after a long day at the office.”

“Then go back to the office cuz I am busy sewing patches on shirts and general merchandise to make myself more in tune with the team. They’ll crash through a wall for me when they see this Izod sweater with the Mudlark logo and yours truly patched across my chest.”

“Darling, I’d like to see your chest but you don’t have to print anything across it but your love.”

“No No No, Mrs. Shaw, that’s for when I use the stenciler to tatttoo my name because I have to take off my shirt when 2-a-day’s get too hot. I need something to stand the sweat and strain and show that I have more than hair on my chest. They’ll lose respect for me if I’m bare-chested except for my sobriquet on a Band-Aid on my left nipple. I’m going first-class all the way!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Honey, turn off de widdle machine and come to beddy-bye where I alweady know your name.”

“I’d rather stick my head in the laundry basket. I am going to get these Mudlark mascots and my name laminated on these flannel shirts or die try. Those kids will be more than intimidated when they see the Bounty Towel Man with a flannel shirt that means business. The Bounty Towel Man will have ’em runnin’ stairs until midnight.”

“I was wondering why your flannel shirts suddenly disappeared when I was doing the wash this week. I thought the dog buried them.”

“And when I get done steam-stitching all my uniform tags I got when I was a teenage mechanic at Milford Grease Monkey onto my Arrow Sport Shirts, I’ll be larger than life and bigger than Gil. The stage awaits.”

“But Gil’s sex life will be steamier and he didn’t need a sewing machine.”

“She had me there and I was running out of name tags anyway and had no money to reorder. And that was beside the point. I took my ED problems to Milford Men’s Clinic and they laid out a plan the way you diagram a play on the football field. Boy, did this one score!!!!!!! Isn’t it time to design your own plays to enhance your sex life and have some fun along the way. Come to Milford Men’s Clinic today where you don’t need a name tag or an appointment to lead you on your way to pure sexual Heaven.”

No, Gang, they could have gone through the drive-thru, THEN sat down. That would explain the glass of water. They weren’t hungry then. Still full of BS but the hunger disappeared. But God bless you, Gang.

Late Late Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Elvis’ Mail Redirected To The Milford Communuty College Dining Center!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Milford Postmaster: ‘Mr. Presley needs to submit a Notification of Specialized Delivery in triplicate for unfortunate events such as these from recurring.’.”

July 27, 2021

How Maureen Alger Rose From Cub Reporter To Waitress At The Diner.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 10:34 am

Now there you go again, Thorpiverse, to quote Ronald Reagan in a debate one year. Throwing Dale Parry at us like he’s Drew Pearson or H.L. Mencken. According to your logic, A Star is going to be Born. Just make the right interviews, eat the right Sloppy Joes, stir up a little crap when the subscription cancellations are on the rise and, by gum, you’re the next Anderson Cooper. Even if we really don’t know who this Dale Parry is. Okay, we’ll investigate his choice of meat loaf at The Diner, the extramarital affairs he had at Mudlark Lake cabins, if his kids are happy and well-adjusted or he has to mail the alimony payments, or what his favorite baseball team is. We should be caught up by the end of summer.

And as I mentioned before, what else could this chance encounter signify but Marjie offering a job with the Milford newspaper. Like if Heather was going to coach for peanuts and she had no other steady income, Marjie was going to suggest riding the garbage truck for Milford Sanitary Solutions and being a sanitary engineer. Or driving the forklift for Milford Foundry. And she can’t be a waitress at The Diner, Maureen already has that job nailed cold. Do we spend the rest of the summer with Marjie calling periodically and asking Heather if she’s getting the hang of the job at Milford Sanitary Solitions. Hang in there, Heather, the first week is always the toughest.

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Lawford Dumped, Coach Thorp Invited To Join The Rat Pack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Mr. Sinatra was impressed by Thorp’s pipes, especially on ‘Come Fly With Me’.”

And speaking of A Star is Born, Barbra Streisand wanted Elvis for the lead in the worst way and despite the ’70’s being a time when Elvis began struggling with his weight (too many fried peanut butter sandwiches) , Streisand was Hell-bent-for-leather to get him. The MAJOR obstacle was Colonel Tom Parker, an ignominious cad whose only concern was the almighty dollar. BTW, he was also an illegal alien which is why Elvis never toured abroad because eventually someone at customs would be asking for Parker’s papers for which he could never produce. He was originally Dutch and basically worked like Helen Hayes in the movie Airport, playing a stowaway on ocean liners and being as discreet as possible until he got to America. He gradually picked up the English language and his keen sense of observation enabled him to speak English without an accent. He absorbed the mannerisms and nuances necessary should anyone to get suspicious.

Anyway, he turned out to be the prick he was noted for being and when he talked with Streisand’s negotiating team, he might as well have been negotiating with Attila the Hun to partition Europe. The Streisand team said “Hell no” to his outrageous demands and they opted for Kris Kristofferson instead. Still basically a match made in Heaven but without having to pay Kris one zillion dollars as Parker was essentially demanding.

And I think it’s safe to say Heather will not be scrubbing the commodes at Milford Star and will not be cleaning Dale Parry’s ash trays since that was Zane Clark’s summer job so we’re left with what IS Heather’s ideal job? Whatever it is, if Colonel Tom Parker is negotiating her job title, I’m headin’ out of Milford. What’s scary is this could conceivably happen, Heather get associate editor at $125,000 with a signing bonus of $34,000 and she be still bitching that she’s still underpaid and somebody needs to fix the water cooler. Oh, she still wants to help coach the football team on a full-time coach’s salary. If Gil can live in a house that resembles the one Darren Stephens and his family reside in for doing nothing, two can literally play that game. Are we ready for an August of this? A Star is Aborted.

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Frankie A Bit Put Out Over Coach Thorp’s Progress At Rehearsals!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Mr. Sinatra is simply concerned over Mr. Thorp’s duetting skills on numbers such as ‘That’s Amore’ with Dino as the performance at the Milford Sands is this Friday.”

What is this choice of jobs in P2 all about???? Okay, she won’t be cleaning the latrines, not be scrubbing the bathroom sink with a toothbrush, not be waiting on tables at The Diner when Maureen is taking a smoke break when Heather is not copy-editing the funnies. Yeah, gotta delete that occasional profanity that Dagwood utters when Blondie spends too much at the Milford 5 & 10. Just make sure you wipe the tables when that family leaves. We don’t want the customers to see the spaghetti stains those kids left off of their child’s plate.

So now that we know (and could have seen a mile away) that manual labor is out of the question (we are talking a Star on our hands) , what NEWSPAPER job are we talking? Marjie, c’mon, we’re in Thorpiverse. Did you crawl through the vents for interviews with Gil by being the Milford Star Subscription Director’s assistant when you were 18 years old? No, in all likelihood, you were a cub reporter who crawled through the vent to talk to the director at Milford Barbershop Quartet and worked your way up to crawling through the vent to talk to the Chef at Milford Elks Club before crawling through the vent to chat with Gilberto became your badge of honor. You are simply imparting your wisdom to Heather. Make sure Milford Pest Control sprayed for roaches before you ascend the vents. Gil doesn’t like bugs in his office.

And I am really not looking forward to Heather being an ace reporter for the rest of the summer. Wait a minute, did you think she was going to start out as a cub reporter? Heather “I was Bill Parcells on the soccer team” Burns? Are we seeing the same thing? Are we?

“….who do you think I am, Sinatra and the rest of his Mafiosos????”

Dead silence at Milford Comedy Caravan

Heard whispering somewhere among the tables

“Bishop needs to write some different material FAST. I’ll tell him before he goes on.”

And web designer (or thereabouts) ???? Where’s the controversy in that? Thorpiverse, no TWIMer is going to fall for your scheme, getting us to believe Heather Burns will have her head up her derriere the rest of the summer conjuring ideas for designs for ads, the editorial page, 2-minute sports section, church directory, etc. and then go to the football field with her head up her derriere, only this time at minimum scale. Like there’s really a conflict of interest in this whole stew. Like she can rip the football team on the crossword puzzle page when the team has its head up its helmet AND its derriere. Gee, you draw crossword puzzles nicely, Ms. Burns. And the football team needs to tackle better. I smell a story.

I think I smell a controversy for August, Gang. In one Brady Bunch episode, Peter Brady is trying to be the best reporter for his school newspaper to the point where he wants the rest of the family to call him Scoop Brady. He eventually, though, winds up neglecting his studies and his parents start to intervene. So who’s going to intervene when Scoop Burns goes from web designer to ace reporter and winds up bad-mouthing Gil, the one who hired her at minimum scale? The logical choice would be Gil himself but he’s too busy with his twin brother at MCC to care. Oh, Lord, get us to football.

If ya go ta Mil-ferd Comm-yew-nity Koll-ige ta earn yore degree in Joor-ney-lism and ya start out at tha bottom as tha 3rd shift lead soup maker at Milford Diner, ya might be a redneck.

“Burns, I can’t believe you wrote this trash about me in the Milford Enquirer!!!!!! I’m demoting you to special assistant to the receivers coach!!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil-“

“Mr. Thorp to you”

“I’m sorry but Sammy Davis Junior indeed said you were struggling on ‘Candy Man’. He said you sounded like a hyena having sex.”

And where ELSE do you expect Mrs. Air Duct and Heather to talk over career journalism prospects? Like it’s any mystery. Nope, they won’t be discussing how to climb through the bathroom window for an interview with Gil while diving into the buffet table at Golden Corral. Now you have to have good soles on your shoes when scaling the walls and, oh, those blueberry pancakes will ruin my diet but today’s my day to indulge. Coffee? Or go to McDonald’s for breakfast. Yeah, get an Egg McMuffin and some Fruit Loops while engaging in a lengthy discourse on how to avoid getting your ass chewed out by Dale when the Milford Enquirer outscooped you when Gil called Kaz a wussy in front of the team. Yup, I’ll be at The Olive Garden for some Tortellini and Clams, Marinaded in a Milford Valley Merlot. I’ll even pay for the breadsticks.

And The Diner has replaced The Bucket as the place to go whenever pursuing the future of Gil. For 60 years, Gil and the teenagers talked about life’s problems but there’s a new greasy spoon in town. And we have a waitress with an honorary doctorate in journalism ethics. Boy, this ought to be interesting. I hope Marjie brought plenty of plastic to pay for the Chicken Dumpling Lunch Plate Special because I brought my appetite.

“That was Joe Cocker singing ‘She Came in Through the Bathroom Window’. My my, did Joe know Marjie personally? Ah, we’ll never know. And we’ll be back to continue our Golden Goodies afternoon here on WDIG after these messages.”

“That’s some good singin’, ain’t it? Man, I feel like ol’ Joe when he’s singing with Jennifer Warnes on ‘Up Where We Belong’. Makes me want to dump Mimi and pick up Debra Winger at Milford Foundry and get a job flying for the U.S. Air Force.

But for now, I’m keeping my wife and here to speak about a more serious issue. Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse and because The Bucket not only was denied a liquor license but supplanted by The Diner as the greasiest abyss in the 21st century, they have once again engaged in a smear campaign only intended to dethrone the King of Beers and I don’t mean Budweiser.

They say that we supply all the Cheetos to The Diner and we’re getting money under the table for the transaction. Now where did they get their sources, Chester Cheetah? Why would we want to sell to our competition, knowing that if somebody with his hard-earned paycheck just off of work at the Milford Toyota plant were to want to spend it, he’d be eating egg drop soup with flies in it at The Diner? With a side order of Cheetos? Or Lay’s Baked Chips? Shoot, we’ll keep our chips, let The Bucket or The Diner call Sysco or Costco for their food supplies. We ain’t no soup kitchen. You can eat your Lay’s Baked Sour Cream Chips and use your bottle of Jack Daniels Premium Whiskey as a chaser, all for only $16.99 a bottle. You can always use your coupon on the chips.

And The Bucket has spread an unfounded rumor that Maureen is the night assistant manager at The Warehouse when she’s not serving the Pancakes du Jour at The Diner. If she’s manning the books and supervising our sales clerks, she’s been in the ladies room performing her duties. I wouldn’t know, I’m not allowed to go in there but nobody but ladies BESIDES Maureen have come out of there. We do occasional spot checks but tests to this point have been negative. While you’re waiting, grab a 30-Pak, 12-fluid oz. of Busch Lite to lighten your load, the price of $18.99 making it that much lighter. She may come oit one day.

Then The Bucket has falsely accused us of discounting to any Diner employee who purchases booze from us. Good God almighty, we don’t grant special favors to the Lead Dishwasher when he comes in to purchase Chateau Ste. Michelle Chardonnay for $8.99 a pop. That’s what Groupon is for. Shoot, we’ll even FedEx The Warehouse coupons to them if they’re too damn lazy to pick them up here in the store or use the scissors to cut them out out of the newspaper ad section. The Chipped Jello functionary knows we don’t cut him any more slack than the Banana Split Machine Operator at The Bucket. Gimme a break.

But that’s what happens when you’ve lost your way home and you need some direction. But people wanting The Good Life at a fair price know where to go. If you want to get your head in a toilet swirlie over vicious rumors, then head to The Bucket for your Bucket Fudge Sundae and a crying towel, otherwise come on down, the booze is fine and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

Gang, I have been BUSY at my dad’s warehouse but you have spoiled me with your loyalty. I owe you my best efforts which I can honestly say I’ve given you today. God bless you.

“…in the way you look tonighhhhhtttttt.”

“Uh, Mr. Thorp, ease off the falsetto. Okay, let’s take it from the top.”

July 22, 2021

I’m Just A Salesman In A Rock And Roll Band.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 7:55 am

I’m just a-wandering on the face of this course

Meeting so many people

Who are trying to be rich

And while I’m rambling I hear too many words

Ethics are broken

Their golf game’s a bitch

And if you want the wind of change to blow from your putts

And you’re the only other person to know

DON’T TELL ME

I’m just a salesman in a Rock and Roll band

Ah yes, I knew my Moody Blues wouldn’t let me down, coming from their classic Seventh Sojourn no less.

And being a Christian, I do not approve of gambling and therefore am not sure what these gentlemen are talking about in P1. That said, I realize not everybody is anti-gambling and as long as nobody foists it on me, you can gamble the night away for all I care. Therefore, I am really not familiar with what they are talking about but that’s par for the course in the world of Thorpiverse whether the topic is gambling or day care centers or world economics or cleaning the toilets at the WDIG stidios with industrial solvents with the industrial solvents won in the bet on #18 by Carter Hendricks when he was using a literal handicap (tuna finger, remember?) . And if anybody knows what they’re talking about, have at it in the Comments section. When the dust has settled, anything is open game when it comes to my wicked sense of humor and gambling is no exception.

I mean really, did we play strip golf just to win a cleaning solution in the end, as a quid pro quo fot being merciful? Keep your shirt on, just give me your Mr. Clean that’s in your trunk. Are there slot machines at each hole and if you couldn’t get it on the green in 4, well, I can always pray I’ll get 3 lemons in a row? I’d be wanting more than the Janitor in a Drum that’s wedged between your putter and your #9 iron. Playing for Tid-ee-Bowl is a noble venture bit if there’s coins falling on the floor, you better believe I’m picking them up off the ground. I’ll scrub my commode at a later date. Oh, I forgot, they playing Vegas game. Do not pass Go. Do not collect from Gil. Don’t even waste your time listening to him talk to Lou-Ann Poovie prate about how he thinks he can be the offensive coordinator after she coached Turtle Creek to the State Championship. Just put your money in the pot, tee off, shut up. Unless you win that hole, then collect your winnings. Then shut up.

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Construction At The Milford Outdoor Amphitheater For The Moody Blues ‘Every Good Gil Deserves Heather Tour’ Shuts Down After Latest Snafu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“We informed Ms. Burns that our sound engineer can install the equipment without due guidance.”

We’re still getting over (an eternal process) Heather Burns barging back in our lives when suddenly we are confronted with 4 gentlemen that just fell out of the sky. It’s like The Brady Bunch storming in on the set of Mr. Ed.

“I’ll tolerate those uppity brats for a week, Wilburrrrrrrr, but Marcia and Jan ain’t sleepin’ in the barnnnnnnnnn.”

“Oh, Ed, have some compassion. Would you rather have Gil? Because you couldn’t sleep because he was snoring mercilessly half the night.”

So let’s probe a little deeper who these guys might be. Now anybody who has read Ray Bradbury is likely familiar with the story where this USA-led expedition to Mars lands on the very planet and discovers that the scenery is just like back home. In fact, many of their childhood friends and family are there to greet the members ofcyhe expedition. The captain of the mission is ready to court-martial his charges for disobeying orders but when his own friends and family approach him, he gradually sees why his crew got swept away. Problem is, the whole set-up turns out to be a trap set by malicious Martians who subsequently kill the captain and his crew in one fell swoop.

Now I could try to keep a straight face and say those gentlemen drinking Miller Lite from their bowling pins are Martians that have infiltrated Milford. God, no wonder why the one is a spitting image of Gil. They cloned him as the main weapon to stage a hostile takeover? And then who did Son of Gil drag along? One of the Oak Ridge Boys? Lost chunks of weight and went for the ponytail after watching Hank Snow try to don the same? Well, OK, but when Conway Twitty tried on that perm after years of the conventional look, he might as well have been a Martian. Imagine Gil (either one) attempting a perm or a ponytail and, well, you get the idea.

Then who are the other two guys? Yul Brynner goes golfing for dollars in his Westworld outfit? Careful, Son of Gil, the last person to jew him out of money because he lipped the cup wound up dead on the green at #18. I’d have my six-shooter ready so you don’t end up like James Brolin IN Westworld. I”d rather not see Richard Benjamin running from Yul all over MCC. And who is Gil’s partner? Maybe someone who got fired from Herb Albert and the Tijuana Brass who needed some quick cash. Couldn’t play along with Herb on his own trumpet to “Spanish Flea” and is having to hustle for birdies. This guy’s a Martian and he and his Martian cohorts are taking over Milford under THOSE conditions?

Well, I guess it’s better than the guessing game we’ve engaged in at the outset of the plot. Like Carter Hendricks is a household name who just plops in on The Lucy Show after Lucy and Desi divorced. Maybe he can go work for Mr. Mooney at the bank.

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Heated Words Flare Up During Moody Blues Rehearsal Of ‘The Other Side Of Life’!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Spokesperson: ‘Ms. Burns and John Lodge were in intense discussions over his bass-playing technique.”

A thousand dollars can be won from one stroke

Only how many partners

We got to agree

This stupid plot can lead in so many ways

Grab a clue where we’re going

What a help it would be

So if you want this game of yours

To turn about you

And you can eye the putt with money within you

DON’T TELL ME

I’m just a salesman in a Rock and Roll band

Uh oh. We don’t know who Carter Hendricks is other than he’s been Gil-mimeographed from the Xerox machine. Don’t you just hate it when Thorpiverse assumes you know who this guy is, like it’s our responsibility to go down to the Milford Post Office and see if he’s on the Rogue’s Gallery by the box mail section. Really, T-verse, I don’t think that when I’m pouring my Cheerios in a bowl thst I should have to look at the “Have You Seen Me?” side of the milk carton to see if Carter and a kid he molested are aligned side-by-side. But (wink, wink) okay, T-verse, he’s on the up-and-up and has made a living selling toilet-scrubbing products and acid solutions to Milford Foundry since you graduated from MHS. That first sale where you sold the receptionist some Liquid Plumber to unclog the sink in the Milford Foundry lobby got you on your way to a career that has truly been rewarding. People who can take a dump in the bathroom stalls under the most ideal sanitary conditions and can wash their hands in the El Dorado of cleaning conditions have you to thank when you’re not a jerk on the golf course by hustling at strip golf with Dr. Pearl and Ms. Rizk.

But is this ALL that’s going to be in this plot du jour for the rest of July and God knows how long its tentacles extend into August? We alternate between Heather Burns who is Chris Elliott on Get a Life and some dog-and-pony salesman who really needs to be plying his trade down at Milford Pool Hall? And it appears our suave friend in P2 is totally oblivious to our pleas for him to get off stage with his bearded wonder not too far behind. Oh, I get it, Heather challenges him to a bet on the back nine and she winds up having to mortgage the house to settle the bet and she moves in the dorm with Corina where she will teach Corina the finer points of catching while Gil calls Joe Sharkey and forces Con Artist Carter to return the house to Heather’s dad on a legal technicamity. Hey, this not only spurs a happy ending but we might be done by September 1st. That should leave enough time for another Bar-B-Q Bust at football practice.

How can we understand

Chaos by the dummies for the golfers

Who are only destroying themselves

And when you see a slimy hustler

Who is frightening all the golfers

Who are scratching this course

Scratching this course

And judging by the reaction of the dude with his combo Fu Manchu/Van Dyke, essentially General Custer with a ponytail drinking a Bud, whenever Con Carter says he humble, he also has property behind The Bucket he can sell you at a bargain. In general, in the world of Thorpiverse, expect the unexpected. Just when Carter resolves to pushing the wheelchair of the little old lady from Pasadena across the street, he is later seen pulling wings off of flies in Mimi’s garden. Just when Heather firmly decides to get a real job, she is in the next scene pitching pennies with Hendricks in the Mudlark Football parking lot. Just when Carter swears off golfing for your car, he and Gil are at Milford 7-11 spending $20 on Milford Powerball. Should be an interesting summer.

Late Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Matters Nearly Comes To Blows On The Moody Blues Set!!!!!!!!! Order Restored Promptly!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Mr. Ray Thomas has been firm with Ms. Burns in playing the sax, rather than the Sousaphone, on ‘I’m Just a Singer in a Rock and Roll Band’.”

Our house

Is a very very very fine house

With two dolts in the yard

SCCCCRRRAAAAAATTTTTTCCCHHHHHHHHHH

Okay, that’s not how CSNY drew it up in their second album, Deja Vu, and so we’re stuck with someone who comes home with a degree and nowhere to go and a man presumably with no wife in a house and nowhere go. What does he do with all that room? Wait, maybe they can play touch football in the living room. Well, c’mon, nobody else lives there.

I can’t see beyond this touchy-feely moment in front of the house where The Waltons grew up. Maybe they can throw in John-Boy who helps Heather design the plays when he’s not writing great literature. Grandma Walton sew all the Mudlark uniforms and have them ready by Opening Kickoff. Have Grandpa Walton be a line judge. Okay, that’s INTO football season but my imagination is running wild. We have a few more days in July and all of August. Playing strip golf can’t take a month and a half, I don’t care how much hustling Con Man Carter engages in. Mission accomplished.

Gang, The Rolling Stones were big George Jones fans and spent a lot of time at his farm. With that in mind

“No, I’m sorry, that’s JIM Thorpe but how about a consolation prize instead? Wonderful, thanks for playing DIG for Dollars. That was Mrs. Lola Sharkey from right here in Milford. Better luck next time. I’m Marty Moon and we’ll return to the exciting conclusion of Gone With The Wind after these messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV.”

“Dang, that’s a shame that Joe’s mom couldn’t win the big money. It would have gone towards the rent. I will personally hand deliver that box of chocolates from Milford Confectionery if nobody else can deliver the consolation prize. Uber can be swamped with work

But there is something more serious than old ladies with sweet tooths. Folks, this is Coach Thorp and we here at Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage have been slammed by our competition for not being hospitable either to our workers or to the general public. I’m not naming names but when Tennnessee Pride says we refused to finance the Moody Blues concert because they were flea-bitten Communists who’d be handing out Lenin’s teachings at Milford Outdoor Amphitheater, I had to say whoa hoss. Where they got their information is a bush hog waiting to get slaughtered but let me assure the public that I not only listened to the whole album of ‘On The Threshold of a Dream’ on the verandah with Mimi but we were grilling Gil Thorp Pure Pork Smokehouse Special with a vengeance. Mmmmmmm, mmmmmm, nothing is more satisfying than Smokehouse link, a pitcher of Bud, and The Moody Blues crooning ‘Are You Sitting Comfortably’. And then me and Mimi got happy and boogied to ‘Send Me No Wine’. Yeah, Tennessee Pride, go get your own Seventh Sojourn.

And what were The Rolling Stones doing at George Jones’ farm anyway? Smoking more than sausage, I bet. And the George Jones Premium Sausage officials accused us of using fillers in our product. Man, talk about the burnt steak calling the pan-fried Sage sausage overcooked. We have not only used the finest quality Yorkshires to grace our plates but we don’t allow Mick and Keith to go past security at our plant unless they are clocking in. Let ’em go to somebody eles’s farm and enjoy Gil Thorp Pure Succulent Sage with pancakes dripping with maple syrup. Let Mr. Jones get his own maple tree to produce the syrup. I’m sure he’ll find a tree on his farm somewhere.

And even Johnsonville Sausage got in the act and said we were staging pot parties for The Moody Blues while we were having them stay with us until the concerts. That’s what happens when Brian Jones overdoses on Gil Thorp Hot ‘n’ Nasty at George’s place and the Milford Enquirer didn’t cross-check its facts. Like Graeme Edge snorted one sausage biscuit too many in our garage. I will shoot this one down faster than when The Rolling Stones’ Metamorphosis was released as a bootleg. The Moody Blues have been staying at the Milford Marriott the whole week and we have been grilling only to A Question of Balance, about the only liaison with the Moody Blues we’ve had. If George Jones or Bill Wyman want to take a tour of our house, I’ll be more than happy to arrange an appointment.

But if you want tickets to the Moody Blues concert or great sausage at a great price, you don’t have to take your pickup to George Jones’ farm to get either one. Come get your package of the finest sausage this side of Dennis the Menace’s house and with 8 package decals, you’ll get free tickets to that concert. Man, good sausage and good music, they go together like truth and Paul Harvey. Eat and enjoy the Moody Blues with every tasty bite.”

I disagree, Gang, I think Ray Thomas can play a much better sax on “I’m Just a Singer in a Rock and Roll Band” than Gil. Gil can’t even coach, let alone play an instrument. Maybe a song flute but not with Thomas or Moody Blues in general. But God bless you, anyway. You rock!!!!!!!!

“No, Mr. Hayward, that’s not how you sing ‘Lovely to See You’. Try a different key.”

“John, who let her in the door? Security had specific instructions.”

July 20, 2021

Heather Burns Sings No More.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 8:07 am

Any of you old-timers(speaking for myself-ha) who watched Gomer Pyle will perhaps remember the episode where Gomer’s eventual girlfriend, Lou-Ann Poovie, was set up to get married in a fictional town of Turtle Creek but decided against it at the last minute and moves to Los Angeles for perhaps better job opportunities. She lands a job at the Congo Club as a nightclub singer where Gomer, Sergeant Carter, and Duke watch her perform. Her obvious problem is she really can’t carry a tune even if she’s making a valiant effort to that end.

Don’t tell that to Sergeant Carter. Partially motivated by his strong attraction towards her, he convinces her she’s the next Doris Day/Barbra Streisand/Dionne Warwick. He sets up an interview with a disc jockey for her and even better, somehow manages to land a recording session for her at a studio in Hollywood. Gomer is more realistic and tells her the truth, in his words, her voice could stand some improvement. Taken aback by the sting, she kicks Gomer out of her apartment and proceeds with the audition.

The session is predictably a disaster. She sings “That Old Black Magic”, giving her E for effort, and when she’s done, Sergeant Carter is convinced the record executive will have a recording contract waiting in the wings. But when Sergeant Carter walks in the booth, Lou-Ann sees the executive yelling at Sergeant Carter, not having to hear what’s said to read the writing on the wall. She goes back to make up with Gomer and take the job that Gomer offered her, working in a record store.

And isn’t this pretty much Gil and Heather? Sure, Heather, there’s a job for a receivers coach with the Pittsburgh Steelers waiting for you. I read about it in the want ad section in the Milford Star this morning. They even have a $100 sign-on bonus. Major Medical insurance. Hey, all you have to do if you’re on the operating table is kick in 20%. They have 401(k) at that. You’re set for life. And you can use my name for a reference.

PAPA’S GOT A BRAND NEWWWWWWWWWWW BAG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“You were great, Heather!!!!!!!!!!! You’re the next James Brown!!!!!!!!! Man, you can funk better than the funkmeister himself!!!!!!!”

“Coach”, can I have a word with you?”

“Oh, that’s Quincy. A recording contract is in the bag.”

Because I was taken aback myself by a milk carton that I read that said “Contains: Milk”

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Files Lawsuit With Milford 7-11 After Disputed Incident!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I told Cochran that I bought 2% and poured Diet Coke on my Cheerios. That coulda been paint thinner.”

And who are these guys in P1? So far, I am convinced that Carter Hendricks is Gil’s twin separated at birth and I like how Ned pointed out that they are essentially wearing the same attire. Hey, I know, they’re those baddies we saw 2-3 years ago that were trash-talking the Good Guys, i.e., Gil’s flunkies, and were trash-playing while they were trash-talking. They never knew a padded score they didn’t like. Take a drop? Why should I, the ball is in the cup. They have grown older and stupider and bet every hole to maintain their snarly reputation that they had to have outgrown by now but still cling to the way you would expect Thorpiverse to maintain a death grip on a bad plot gone south gone awry just gone gone gone.

And God knows what we’re going to get for the rest of the summer. Everybody drink except the guy who won the hole? By #17, I wouldn’t recommend drinking and driving a golf cart. I wouldn’t be smelling Gil’s, er, Carter’s breath anyway. Here, Carter, tske the whole bottle of Scope. Everybody take off an article of clothing except the guy who won the hole, namely strip golf? Do we really want to see anybody’s crack, including Carter’s? There are women and children present. True, they were beating each other with golf clubs under Gil’s tutelage the other day but they’ e still present. We don’t want them overdosing on crack simply by watching it. The losers have to go with Corina to New York? I’ll be working on my putting the next 24 hours.

EVERYBODY PLAYS THE FOOL

NO EXCEPTION TO THE RULE

“You were sensational, Dr. Pearl!!!!!!!!!!!! The Main Ingredient couldn’t have done it any better!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“You really mean it, Gil?”

“Shoot, if I can get a bunch of squirrely kids to get it on the green. I can make you a star.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaa, look at the time. I have a meeting at the Milford Elks Club dinner date with my husband. It’s Silent Bingo Night.”

WHAT is on the table while we’re getting adjusted to Gil discussing a recording deal with Lou-Ann? So far as I can see, the nematodes are climbing the iced tea (crossing my fingers that I am correct on the assessment of choice of drinks ) cups, having found a host at the Milford Country Club. And I’m sorry, I am really trying to be nice but I can’t see Sergeant Carter and Miss Poovie talking about her career in singing over a plate of half-eaten Texas toast and salad greens. Or are those green restaurant chips? Wait, maybe that’s a cheeseburger that escaped from MCC snack bar that hasn’t been cooked at proper temperature. Well, it beats a been-in-the-sun-too-long shoe leather, y’know, the ones Yosemite Sam had for dinner on a deserted island until Bugs Bunny came into the picture, triggering YS’s images of stewed rabbit (or Wile E. Coyote and of fried roadrunner, hey, we’re flexible here) . Shazam (while I’m on a Gomer roll) , sauteed shoe leather and tater tots and green cottage cheese, dinner is served. The MCC was even kind enough to leave a mini-spatula on the table.

An FYI here, Gomer Pyle: USMC was a very popular show in its day. The United States Marine Corps loved the show in part because recruiting shot through the roof during the years it aired. Marines themselves loved the show because they said it was Marine life to a T. And they even gave Frank Sutton (Sergeant Carter) an Honorary Sergeant status, a bit of an accomplishment as Sutton, a Columbia graduate and a serious actor, was a solid character actor in the ’50’s and ’60’s. Sadly, the show ended in 1969 prematurely because Jim Nabors point-blank didn’t want to (understandably) get typecast into Gomer and left the show.

This is just plain damn dumb. What is Gil going to do, tell the Pittsburgh Steeler brass (just drawing a random NFL team out of a hat, mind you) that Lou-Ann Poovie has had plenty of experience at playing right tackle and can impart the techniques and plays on the team? Like she can line up the offensive line with a straight face and nobody’s asking any questions.

Now to be fair, my college DOES have a female, Mya Urba, working with the football staff and she does a great job of watching game film, coordinating the defense, getting with coaches on the plays, etc. Somebody has to work through the details and she does an excellent job. She’s not just out there filling space and it won us a conference title. Fair enough.

But Heather never paid her dues like Urba did. Heather went straight from a non-entity in soccer to the Milford Congo Club. Hey, anybody who sat on her duff and never worked to get better can certainly sing “Surrey with a Fringe on Top” and do so to a SRO crowd. Gil, are you serious? Tell me we are not in for Round 2. Puh-leeaaassseeee don’t tell me you are going to insist that Lou-Ann Poovie, after she failed at the Milford Congo Club when she couldn’t even sustain “Mary Had Little Lamb”, can command the respect of Mean Joe Greene and LC Greenwood and the rest of the Steel Curtain. That’s right, Coach, she can teach pass-rush defense even if she can’t sing “Love is a Many-Splendored Thing” and teach all the blitzes. Blitz away, Lou-Ann.

Where is Gomer when you need him? Somebody to come to her house and smack her upside her head and be realistic and not apply for the Dallas Cowboy Defensive Coordinator position and get a real job.

“Lou-Ann, goooollllllyyyy, don’t go and apply for the head coaching job for Milford Football. I know Coach Thorp doesn’t coach any better than Bunny, Sergeant Carter’s girlfriend, but you’re just not ready.”

“Gomer, it just so happens that Dr. Pearl thinks I’m ready. And if the Milford School Board doesn’t vote me in as coach, she has a coaching job ready at Turtle Creek.”

Nope, nope, don’t even go there, Coach. Now you’re stepping on my turf and rest assured, no team from the Big Ten Football ranks is going to have some sniveling snot who should have stayed with soccer IF SHE PUT IN THE TIME to work with its football players. You’ve been slurping one nematode too many as evidenced in P3.

But thank you anyway for your solid support, Gang. It means the world to me.

July 15, 2021

Crawlin’, Crawlin’, Crawlin’, Gilhide!!!!

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 12:16 pm

One night at Milford Girls-A-Go-Go Club, The Blues Brothers and Bubbles McCall a/k/a Dr. Pearl performing Sam & Dave’s “I’m a Soul Man”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GO BACK TO OAKWOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’VE SEEN BETTER BODIES ON PEPPRRMINT PATTY IN HER CATCHER’S GEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MIMI CAN DANCE BETTER ‘N’ THAT WHEN SHE’S LAPPIN’ GIL ON THE VERANDAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

With Mudlar-K-Cola cans and Jack Daniels bottles thrown at them, Plan B is in the works

“What are going to do. My puny body can’t hold them off forever!!!!!”

“Shoulda thought of that when you applied for the job, Pearl.”

“Hey, I know, how about ‘Tea for Two’ or the ‘Captain Kangaroo Theme’?”

“Pearl, you need to get out more.”

“Wait a minute. Band, we’re doing the next one in A. Ready, hit it!!!!!!!!”

Rollin’ Rollin’ Rollin’

Rollin’ Rollin’ Rollin’

Rollin’ Rollin’ Rollin’

Rollin’ Rollin’ Rollin’

Gilhide!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Rollin’ Rollin’ Rollin’

Though Marjie’s book is swollen

Keep this bad plot Rollin’

Gilhide!!!!!!!!!!!!

This snail we have to weather

Pearl is wearing leather

Wishin’ her hubby was by her side

All the things we’re missin’

Good stories, Gil butt-kissin’

Are waiting once we are off of this ride

The Blues Brothers rendition was way too hard to pass up after this sorry bit of mush called a plot has already commenced at a Cream of Wheat pace. And I’m getting senile but Moon and Philip have come in and set the record straight as I knew Heather did more than sit on her ass for the soccer team, then pursue the same course until that play where she blind-sided a Gilhide opponent. That’s what’s sad about Thorpiverse, why let truth or good pacing get in the way of Stinkplot?

We begin with the Milford Star building. Nice Art Deco bit of architectural design with possibilities. Now if someone will, um, er, y’know, tell the building engineer that when you build steps, it’s probably a good idea to erect a doorway at the end of the ascension, otherwise people are going to get confused. Like, where IS the entrance? Do they airlift employees in this shaft at the rooftop? Is there a fallout shelter conduit by the sewers of the building for the newspaper staff to proceed? Hey, I know. There’s a talking window. Maybe it can lead us in the right direction. But wait a minute. We’ve been saying that about Gil for 60 years. Scratch that.

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Luxury Condominium Suites To Construct Doorway To Rental Office After Several Complaints!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“O.J.: ‘About damn time. I got tired of goin’ through the basement to pay my rent.'”

Yes and no, Marjie. Yes, you did talk with Heather Burns when you showed up at the football practice in your Rosa Klebb outfit. I remember your beat-all-odds angle and the attempt thereof. But no, Heather bristled, preferring, somewhat admirably, to defer to the team. Yup, I do believe this stab at Grantland Rice kinda sorta went by the way of Harry Caray’s Bud bottles. At least the latter didn’t stink so bad. But again, truth and this plot are gamboling playfully at the Kentucky Derby track neck-and-neck with each other and by the end of the month should reach the finish line. The camera should still be in operation in case we are forced to determine who won by a nose.

Boy, this plot is getting off on the right foot, don’t you think? Probably wouldn’t be a good idea for Heather Burns to stop by the Milford Girls Soccer coach and ask how things are going. Maybe there might be another HB on the team who half-asses everything and needs to boss everyone around on the football team when the temp coaches aren’t around because Thorpiverse forgot to insert them somewhere during the season. And it’s good to know HB will be there to tell her that if you’re going to half-ass the issue, be it soccer or being Gil’s toady, be it being Kevin Pelwicki’s personal trainer and nanny or as a third-string tight end, do it all the way. Go hard or go home. Or go to New York where Peppermint Patty got exiled.

“Gil, the new gym looks nice but where are the doors?”

“I knew the school was addressing budget concerns but this is ridiculous.”

Move it on

(Clear this out)

Shove it on

(Without a doubt)

Push it on

(In a rout)

Pass it on

(With a shout)

Gilhide!!!!!!!

Cut it loose

(Wearing thin)

Wearing thin

(Cut it loose)

Cut it loose

Wearing thin

Gilhide!!!!!

I am not getting a good feeling about this Dale Parry. After the station manager at WDIG gave Bobby Howry carte blanche to publicly air Coach Thorp’s dirty laundry, I don’t think us TWIMers are prepared to stomach Marjie turning into Ida Tarbell. Marjie does enough muckraking climbing through the vents to approach Gil for an interview. That’s enough dirt for one day. What’s Pushy Parry going to do for an encore?

“I saw Gil and his kids at the Milford Wal-Mart Supercenter without Mimi. There may be a story involved. Check the County Clerk’s office for any recent divorces filed.”

Let’s try another angle

“Your Highness, I did some cross-checking to confirm whether Gil wears dirty underwear. The findings were inconclusive.”

“Damn!!! Did anyone bother to forage through his laundry basket?”

It could happen. Well, let’s dive right back in, shall we?

“How could you get outscooped? This was the story of the year and you were eating Bar-B-Q sandwiches with a bunch of football players!!!!!!!!”

“Most Honorable Master of Milford Star, Marty Moon’s sexual problems came out of nowhere. She didn’t confirm his erectile problems until ths morning.”

“Excuses are for Bobby Howry and look where it got him. It was common knowledge that Marty’s log was a T-Ball bat. I’m assigning you to the Milford Star Cookbook Section.”

One more

“Oh Mighty Pharaoh of Journalism, I couldn’t get a press pass to check her office for sure. But I’m pretty confident that Dr. Pearl pads the issue.”

“HERE!!!!!!!! Take 5 of them but if you have to personally reach down her Playtex to get the headline, do it!!!!!!!!! The subscribers are getting impatient!!!!!!!!”

If yore girlfriend has ta use one of yore timing chain belts ta hold up her boobs, ya might be a redneck.

AND WHAT IS THAT TOME THAT MARJIE IS FLOUTING AROUND THE BUILDING???? Does she go to the water cooler with that albatross in her arm? I hope to goodness that she doesn’t take that to the bathroom. Where’s she going to put it, on the towel dispenser? The hot air blower contraption? She’s in trouble if she ate one Bar-B-Q Cheese Dog too many at Gil’s All-Comers Football Gourmand Jamboree and it doesn’t start to shake and bake until she’s in her cubicle thumbing through that big boy trying to locate info on Gil’s alleged extramarital affairs. Then again, that whole scenario may be poetic justice. Loose butts and loose lips and loose books not only sink ships but they make a mess at the Milford Star women’s rest rooms.

And Marjie, I hate to break this to you but Kevin Pelwicki and Dory Darwin waylaid a New Thayer linebacker who freight-trained Heather when she was trying to catch a pass. Not exactly 3rd-string stuff, if ya know what I mean. I admit she had to start at the bottom but SHE DIDN’T STAY THERE. If you’d read your Big Book of Milford Facts & Figures, you would have come across that part. That’s what you get for sucking up to your boss. He has a nice trim on his beard, I’ll give him that. BTW, what happened to Marjie’s cohort, the fellow carrier of Milford Genealogical Compendium? Better watch your backside, Marjie. As Larry Bird’s high school coach once advised him, if you’re shooting 100 free throws here at the French Lick courts, assume someone in Taswell or Jasper is shooting 101 free throws. Better not let your cohort get to Mimi’s dresser first to see if the family album has any illegitimate family members. If the porch light is on, you’ve been outscooped.

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Takes Offense At Latest Ducey Article In Milford Star!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I know she needs a story but those gloves are for when I’m trimming the hedges.”

Oh she sold a fake all right but it wasn’t all on the football field. Yes, the play was a clever ruse which worked to perfection but her manipulation was not confined to the gridiron. She basically flipped off the soccer coach and put NOTHING into the sport, then ran off to football where she started her career as a never-was and fed off of that to boss around dimwits like Pelwicki. Granted, her apercu for plays was more than respectable but she never really paid her dues and I personally, after sweating in practice and games for several weeks, would have resented some girlie-girl who wouldn’t take orders from soccer, football, bocce, volleyball, bobsledding, curling, whiffleball, slaughterball coach telling me that I have an attitude. This is who you’re calling a team player, Pushy Parry.

But maybe Iowa knocked some sense into her and she may wind up one day as an ace reporter just like Marjie. If Marjie can teach her how to negotiate the air ducts in Gil’s office, she won’t have to come into the bathroom window. There’s short cuts in this business, y’know.

“And we’ll return to see if Marjie followed through on her promise to put the book back on the shelf or if Pushy Parry followed through on his threat to tail Corina Karenna’s season as a consequence on another exciting episode of Another World after these messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV.”

“As geriatrics becomes more of a complex process, the older generation needs to take advantage of every opportunity available at their disposal. You snooze, you lose, someone once wisely pointed out. And that includes the process of bathing in the domicile you call home.

Greetings, this is Mr. Dr. Pearl and at Milford Bath Magic, they understand the need to stay updated on the latest technological advances that fill our airwaves and imbue our society. That’s why they are proud to announce digital showering to the fine array of bathing products and designs to enhance a senior citizen’s bathing experience.

Many older specimens encounter obstacles when attempting to instigate the faucet handles and the shower switch. Many times, they do fall and can’t get up. There essentially is no reason for an oldster to lay flat on his or her back just because he or she was trying to adjust the shower head from “Spray” to “Massage”. Well, Milford Bath Magic has that covered.

With digital technology, a simple push of the button is all that’s needed to be embraced by the Showers of Paradise. Do you desire a cold shower to wake you up in the morning? Simply press “Iceberg” function and you will be splashed with reality that will keep you awake long after the shuffleboard double-elimination tournament. Perhaps you want your shower directed away from your crotch. A flick of the wrist to “Pectoralis Major Emphasis” is all that is required. You will be utilizing Lifebuoy in the right anatomy totally guilt-free. Then there’s the generation that grew up on singing in the shower. Milford Bath Magic is way ahead of you. With a playlist that is implemented in partnership with Milford Muzak Connection, Inc., you can punch the button to the tune of your selection and you are on your way to a shower experience worthy of the Sirens music that almost caused Odysseus to crash on the rocks. For that matter, I understand one 97-year-old despised taking showers until Milford Bath Magic installed The Police’s “Regatta de Blanc”. Now, she is dancing and bathing and cleaning behind her ears to “The Bed’s Too Big Without You”.

And there were concerns that with all this technology, people still coildn’t get into the tub, many instances compelled to use a stepladder to enter Xanadu. But Milford Bath Magic came to the rescue with a doorway that has been lab-tested and guaranteed to open and shut as desired. When gerbils have trouble entering a shower facility, so does the older generation. Saints be praised, these doors passed the company’s strictest standards, even borrowing a hippopotamus from the Milford Zoo to confirm the deal. The beast was able to shower to its heart’s content with every bit of digital showering technology at its disposal. A hippo in the shower while Milford Muzak was performing Cheap Trick’s “Surrender”, life is like a box of chocolates, only this time you DO indeed know what you’re getting.

There are also cost factor concerns involved but let me reassure you, Milford Bath Magic will never turn a senior citizen out on the streets. Financed parially through the gifts of Milford Aging Society, if a 99-year-old wants to take a shower for a night on the town, that person should be bestowed every given means at that person’s dosposal. Life is too short to be caught up in cancelled bank accounts due to aging limitations. You still need fun in your life.

With all of these wonderful resources at your fingertips, you’d be foolish to turn away a free lunch. And it’s as easy as pressing the “Bleach” function on the keypad. If you want a substitute for Grecian Formula and the inside track on shower technology at a premium, please pay a visit to Milford Bath Magic today. Your shower is waiting, all at your fingertips.”

No, Gang, that book is not Dick Tracy’s Unsolved Cases. I know sometimes he has trouble catching Pruneface or The Mole but he didn’t have THAT much trouble. But God bless you anyway, Gang.

“I don’t care how you do it, eyewitnesses saw Mimi sexually molesting Corina Karenna. They have photos at Milford Senior Center. I want a story on my desk by 8 sharp tomorrow morning.”

“On it, oh Mighty Maven of Jounalism.”

Not movin’

And we’re disapprovin’

Get this plotline movin’

Gilhide!!!!!!

Dont try to understand ’em

Just talk, yak, and brand ’em

Soon Marjie’s goin’ on outside

My head’s calculatin’

Football season is waitin’

Be waitin’ after our gettin’ a ride

Move it on

(Clear it out)

Shove it on…

July 13, 2021

Not Thorpe!!!! Thorp!!!! The One Without An ‘E’ Or A Clue!!!!

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 10:41 am

I am going to call the painfully obvious. Marjie and presumably her boss are on display today with the biggest pair of Depend Undergarments this side of the Mississippi.You could FIT a Mack truck in them babies. The truck might look silly saddled with the apparel but it represents another bad plot gone awry before it even gets off the ground, so what else is new?

I remember a SNL sketch where these senior citizens are at, say, a bridge function and Grandma Poopieknocker can’t control her bowels and winds up pooping all over the carpet. Darn, says Grandpa Passingas, if she had worn Oops! I Crapped My Pants!, this accident of nature wouldn’t have occurred. Why, Oops! I Crapped My Pants! is more absorbent thsn a Bounty Towel. It can hold somebody’s urine the size of Hoover Dam. No more need to get housebroken like Lassie. The days of Grandma Poopieknocker flooding the bleachers when taking the grandkids to the circus are over. No need for the circus janitor to pick up her mess along with the elephants.

So when I saw Marjie and her boss(?) wearing Oops! I Crapped All Over Milford!, that sketch came into mind. Marjie, if you’re going to feast on useless Bar-B-Q functions at football practice, the least you could do is wear proper attire. I’m tired of smelling dog poop in the next cubicle. We know those little whims of indulgences while you’re playing kissy-face with Coach Thorp at the beginning of the season can be gastronomic adventures but damn, woman, do we have to take a mighty whiff of how adventurous your abdomen was? Good thing your crotch came well-armed today. No 3-alarm fires because you forgot to call Milford Fire Department and ate one Bucket Chili Dog w/ Edam Cheese too many. Keep your pants on, on the inside and out. Both of you.

Because I explore the possibilities when I drive down the freeway and see on a sign NOT AN EXIT-Truck Enforcement Area

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Let Off With Warning After Stand-Off With Milford State Troopers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Spokesperson from Milford State Police: ”We informed Mr. Thorp that our Truck Detention Area for Speeders was not a picnic facility’.”

Not that we’ve adjusted our TV sets to accommodate The Granny Pants Twins, a few questions come to mind, namely, how can anyone see what’s inside the office with the door CLOSED? Superman in baggy undergarments to accomodate his occasional diarrhea? Well, it might make good copy for Jimmy Olsen to pursue for the Daily Planet but, no, the door is not made out of lead to further complicate this farce-in-the-making. And what are they carrying around? I’ve never felt it necessary to be toting Encyclopedia Brittanica in the hallway, let alone be reading it as if it were The Name of the Rose just an hour before you go lick Gil’s cleats, er, interview Gil. I’m not a journalist but I couldn’t imagine Sydney J. Harris or McNeil/Lehrer with Rand McNally Exhaustive World Atlas tucked in their armpits before they do an exclusive interview with the President of the United States. Mr. President, I’m having a hard time finding Malawi, can you give me a hand for a second?

Joey Bishop, a hilarious comedian and one of the members of Sinatra’s Rat Pack, was once on a quiz show and was asked “What is the one thing that weakens Superman?”

His answer was priceless

“Prune juice.”

Come to Fuel Mart in Austin, Indiana. Man, they have all kinds of goodies, from your favorite chips to snack cakes, tasty wieners and sausages to sandwiches, and lots of candy bars. Oh, and great gas at great prices. They have always treated me fairly and courteously and likewise with ANY customer that walks through their doors. Gang, now why go anywhere else? Take I-65 in Indiana until you get to Exit 34 and once you’re on the exit ramp, head west. You will see the sign on the right.

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

And as the readers mentioned, we are not ready for The Return of Heather: The Wrath of Gil. And what the Hell is she doing at the Milford Star anyway? Careful, Heather, the last person to try to make a name for himself in this kind of business got ran out of town after challenging argubly the top media person in Milford, i.e., Marty Moon (admittedly compared to being the top chair in the violin section in the Florala, Alabama Orchestra) . Do you want to be another Bobby Howry, Heather? Because Snake Oil Moon will be glad to fit the bill.

And the last I checked, you rode off into the sunset and were going to make Kevin Pelwicki another Joe Montana. Not that anybody was holding their breath but when you detoured to Iowa City, we wonder whether Pelwicki got dumped in a body bag while you applied for the Receivers Coach position at University of Iowa. Oh wait a minute, that was before or after Gil wanted you on his staff after you decided to not put anything into soccer and put more time into bossing people around, especially on topics you were unqualified to talk about. But that’s Thorpiverse for you. If Gunnery Sergeant Highway and his men are stuck on Mackinaw Island, Michigan with 10,000 Cubans hiding in the woods, Highway and his 26 men will have them all shot and run off the island even if that’s impossible, let alone wondering how the heck they got from Havana to the Upper Peninsula in the first place. But with T-verse, the devil’s in the details. Just pretend Heather and the Cubans canoed their way on Lake Huron to get there. We’ll sort it out maybe later after smoking our last victory cigars. Oh crap, the Cubans lost though. We’ll sort that out too, one absurd contradiction at a time.

Oops! I Crapped All Over My Office!

“Now I know I laid the box somewhere in my closet. Coach, I have mess to deal with. Do you mind coming back later? I’ll have those referee contracts notarized in a week.”

“Not at all, Dr. Pearl. No rush.”

And we have endured ladies with chunky bracelets, crappy clothes (literally) , chunky books, but Marjie, why did you ask the question if you knew not only that somebody was behind closed doors but knew her last name? That’s like asking who’s that clown in Marty’s office then unclear on who’s the real Bozo. Oh, that’s the one with the goatee and without the makeup. Way to come through, Marjie. Yeah, Marjie, who’s that guy who leads his team to victory and molds young men from lessons learned in athletics? Well, of course, Norman Dale. Did you have someone else in mind? Thorpe? No, Jim Thorpe was the famous athlete. You’ll have to try harder.

And so we are getting a heads-up on another sorry-ass plot that will beset us until football where FOOTBALL will beset us with more besetting things like stupid storylines and people asking the obvious, then answering it. I remember when I took TV Techniques in high school and our teacher instructed us that when interviewing someone, don’t ask the obvious. For example, when interviewing Alice Cooper when he comes to Milford to perform a series of concerts at Milford Outdoor Amphitheater, don’t ask “Do you like it here in Milford?”. Like what is Alice going to say????

“No, I’m just here for the money. I was told to jack the ticket prices higher, they don’t know economics from their butts in the ground anyway. And I hear the coach is a real washout. I wouldn’t have my serpents slither around his neck. That would ruin the show. And he isn’t singing ‘You Drive Me Nervous’. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Is that Heather Burns in the office with Marty Moon?”

“No, that’s Frank Burns. He and Hot Lips want to do their own show on WDIG and take a break from Hawkeye and Pierce and the surgical procedures in general.”

“Oh, I was just wondering. Are you through eating that burrito?”

Let’s try this one more time

“Is Coach Thorp going to take charge this year?”

“Yes, he will lead the troops into battle and teach them how to win and achieve so that they can get their own verandah and wife and not mooch lemonade off of him. Life’s lessons at a premium.”

It needs work but we have the whole summer.

Oooooooooookkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back to help restore our sanity in relation to inchoate plots. You got the mike, Gene

” Dumb Dora was sooooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought Gil was going to take______________ with the football team and run with it.”

Who’s in P3? Gil’s twin brother? We are in for a doozy of a plot. It’s scary when we don’t have a clue what they’re talking and really don’t care to know. All over what we assume to be the alcohol du jour. We have Hendricks so far. But I don’t think Thorpiverse means Jimi Hendrix, even if one of the gentlemen is black. Do we have to play Encyclopedia Brown before the plot ever develops? Answer THAT one, Marjie, if you really can.

God bless you, Gang. Thank you for your readership. It means the world to me.

July 8, 2021

Milford’s Got Talent!!!!

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 1:15 pm

“….what do I look like, a Maeve Binchy bestseller about Animal Crackers????”

BUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Mr. Dr. Pearl, one of the judges, speaks

“Mr. Thorp, you are fine, upstanding citizen of this community who has molded the lives of young men for over 60 years as I can attest to because I saw General Eisenhower execute the same traits on his soldiers when they went into battle. And you have touched the lives of many here, from the assistant manager at The Bucket to Mr. Funt who also appreciates your acknowledgement of the library functions. However, in truth, your comedy stylings are in want of excellent foundations and you need to stick to coaching. Hmmmm, let me rephrase that…”

Well, hey, if it’s American Idol they want, American Idol they’re gonna get. I am having a little trouble with Allen Funt being one of the judges but silly does as silly gets (Uh oh, expect an appearance from The Colonel of Monty Python fame) . Thank God Peppermint Patty left town so she won’t be gonging anybody anytime soon. I really don’t know where Thorpiverse is going with this. Whoever can sing or dance the best is going to get the Library Board position? I hope this doesn’t take a month. Watching Romeo perform The Charleston with Juliet or Butthead jamming with Hendrix, Buddy Miles, and Billy Cox and the other Band of Gypsies on “Them Changes” might be good theater but it really doesn’t have anything to do with being a good judge on how a library should budget its revenue. Sure, Mr. Funt, I know what’s good for Milford Public Library. Just watch me have the Olate Dogs jump through this ring of fire. Won 1st Prize and a chance to perform at Milford Gaming Casino.

By gum, if Zane can throw through the tire, he can play the hsrmonica better than Dylan. No better way to determine a man’s integriity when making the call on what magazines to stock on the shelf.

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Gonged At The Milford Talent Search Extraordinaire ’21!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I don’t care what Nick Cannon said, nobody can do Hendrix’s ‘Little Miss Strange’ better ‘n’ me and my band.”

And I realize that drawing the finer points of the strip can be a bit taxing but today is just flat-out inexcusable. While Funt is making the opening comments, everybody is enjoying their marshmallow on a stick. Darn, I should have brought those Oscar Meyer wieners in my glove compartment. Will the board members settle for Beenie Weenies? And who in the world is sitting at the left? Marty Moon’s older sister? Apparently women also grow goatees at an early age in his family. I pity the staff member at Milford Day Care having to babysit Marty’s granddaughter. How do you burp a baby with a goatee? Special handling required. Hard to play house when all the boys and girls need to give the facial hair a trim.

And is the other woman pregnant or did she have one Bucket Shake too many? What is all that black within her periphery? I hope that’s not her lunch. Did Thorpiverse assume that anything ebony is necessarily worthy of possession, especially when they’re on stage at a board meeting? This board member must have brought her Colt .45 in case the meeting is out of order. We really don’t have time for Gil and Butthead to come to blows. And it’s good to see Tommy brought her assistant so that the meeting can be interpreted in Braille. That will certainly speed things along.

The Lux et Veritas seal in the background is believable. Maybe there’s hope.

If ya roast yore marshmallows while arguin’ the finer points of Par-lee-mentary Per-ceed-jure, ya might be a redneck.

“…Love me love me

Say that you love me

Love me love me

Go on and love me

BUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Ms. Rizk, one of the judges, speaks

“Mimi, I know the 5-game season really took its toll and when you were forced to endure another 5-game season in softball, I saw you becoming another Peter Green but you really need to refine this one. Your voice could stand some improvement and having Corina as one of your back-up singers didn’t help. She needs to stay at Onondaga. And a Wurlitzer donated from the Milford Choral Society just made this sad rendition even sadder. My typewriter my grandma gave me for Christmas that I left in the closet sounds better than this.”

Allen, I hate to break it to you but while you’re trying to put on your best face and make this a Patton motivational speech that was given at the beginning of the movie, people do not make a habit of equating library elections with Iwo Jima. What is Patton going to say here?

“I don’t want anybody dying for Milford Public Library. Let those German bastards die for their own library.”

“I never admired a library patron who lost his library card and laughed.”

“I will not lose to Mr. Butthead. Surrender is not in my creed.”

“Milfordians love a winner. They remember when Jerry Pulver fainted while trying to score the winning lay-up and it left a bitter taste in their mouths. Bucket Burgers tasted like cow chips. Naturally, they’re that way anyway but it smelled even worse that night. Milfordians will not tolerate a loser or really shitty Bucket Burgers.”

“Drop your cocks and grab your socks. We’re going to decide the winner for the library election.”

Okay, I threw in a couple of Gunnery Sergeant Highway’s. Hey, it’s all for effect.

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. To Appeal Milford Talent Search Extraordinaire!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Cochran was suspicious about the findings being rigged. He unearthed that one of the judges hated Hendrix.”

And so we wait for Allen Funt to open the envelope and declare the winner

Smmmmmmiiilllllleeeeeeeeee, you’re on Candid Cammmmmmeeeerrrraaaaaaa

“Oh, these two gentlemen are a riot. I had ’em going with the envelope, didn’t I? I actually opened my electric bill for the month. And they already had the meeting behind closed doors and decided that Mrs. Karenna was the best candidate for the job. But Johnny, tell them the consolation prizes that Butthead and Zane are gonna get.”

“Allen, It’s the 2021 Edition of World Book Encyclopedia. Now, instead of being contentious about where to put the encyclopedias, they’ll have plenty of time to read one. And they are bound intricately by the fine employees of Milford Printing & Bookbinding Services Incorporated so you can use it for a stepladder when you take the other to the city dump. Now that’s quality. Only on Candid Camerrrrrraaaaaaaaaa.”

“Yeah, now they can change the light bulb and look under M for Milford…”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

“…Lower the gym door down tonight

I got no time for private consultation

Under the Milky Way tonight…”

BBBUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Hadley V. Baxendale, one of the judges, speaks

“Ms. Brito, you and Zane will be a fine husband and wife one day but presently Steve Kilbey from The Church you are not. Totally devoid of talent.”

And is it me but is Zane sitting on a concrete block? Butthead is the size of Barney Rubble. We are anticipating The Moment and we’re stuck with Archie Andrews towering over Mr. Lodge. That said, this better be good. We have suffered through several months of this dog food with baseball season perhaps winding down while my great-nephew prepares for cross-country season next month and if Bozo the Clown is elected as a write-in candidate, I hope Gil gets blindsided by a tackling dummy.

It’s not a good sign when the platitudes are on parade. The youth is energetic and enthusiastic and full of great ideas while Butthead is a better financial manager and has been around the horn. And I can see this one a mile away

“Zaneyou’reagoodattitudeandattitudesarecontagiousandButtheadyouknowhowtospendabuckandthesequalitiesservedyouwellwhenyouwereworkingforminimumwageatMcDonald’sandmanypeoplecommentonyourattireandyourusageofdeodaranttonight

but we’re retiring the position. Thank you for your participation.”

“And we’ll be back to see if the Library Board survives the Maoist takeover after these messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV.”

“Boy, I hope Zane and Butthead can withstand another Communist takeover attempt. I know I wouldn’tcwant my football players to be reading The Little Red Book along with their playbook. It’s hard to memorize the Double Curl Right when Lenin is required reading at Homecoming.

But I’m not here to talk about Commies at Opening Kickoff. Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse and in line with Milford’s Got Talent!!!! festivities, The Warehouse is putting on an extraganza for the ages. That’s right, if you have talent, come on in and get rewarded for it. We have a stage set up and a sound track system in case you need to insert that cassette, 8-track, or CD. We just cleared the Canada Dry Ginger Ale rack to make accomadations for the Star in Waiting. Shoot, ginger ale sells slow in July anyway.

Now, C’mon, you know you got it in you. You have some talent worthy of note that you can sell to the world before you sell it to Milford Gaming Casino. Shoot, somebody the other day played ‘Hot Time in the Old Time Tonight’ on his kazoo and that was without orchestral accompaniment. He was richly rewarded with a 30-Pak in the 12 Fl. Oz. Cans of Busch Light. And his talent is truly worth more than the $21.99 they normally charge.

But not everybody can play the kazoo. Somebody has to be Second Chair. Folks, you should have seen that tuba player goin’ to town on Manilow’s ‘Copacabana’. He almost got gonged but when the judge was deemed to be a Manilow-hater, he let the tuba player get the Jim Beam Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey after a maestro performance. The fans wanted an encore but he was late for his third shift job at Milford Foundry. But he had earned his keep.

And if tuba-playing isn’t your cup of tea or fifth of Jack, why not do what the ukulele player did by entertaining the fans with Ringo Starr’s ‘It Don’t Come Easy’? He was richly rewarded with two bottles of Josh Cellars Cabernet Sauvignon in the 750 ml bottles. He tried to continue with The Who’s “Who Are You” but got so inebriated that he was Loony Moony Reincarnated. We weren’t going to let him ruin the statue of Wink Martindale like Keith Moon did with the swimmimg pool at Holiday Inn in his Cadillac.

Or how about the marimba player gettin’ happy on Rolling Stones ‘Some Girls’? Heck, he didn’t even have to sing the lyrics and he still got Milford Valley Straight From The Well Out Back Vodka. Gimme all your money, gimme all your gold indeed. And he got and extra helping of the straight stuff when he brought the house down with ‘ When The Whip Comes Down’. Life is good.

But don’t take my word for it. Get that classical guitar out of the attic or trombone out of the garage and apply your talent here at Milford Beverage Warehouse and get your free slice of The Good Life and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

Gang, you’ve got talent. Thanks for waiting for me to complete this blog affer another trip for my dad. You rock. God bless you all.

Oh, and one more thing

“STOP THIS PLOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT’S SIL-LAYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!! Everybody get out of the library and go home. And that means you as well, Mr. Butthead. This whole election fiasco has carried on far too long. Time to move on to better pursuits. And wipe that smile off your face, Mr. Thorp, or I’ll ship you to the brig for insubordination.”

I knew The Colonel would show on cue.

GOODBYE SISTER DISCO

WITH YOUR FLASHY TRASH PANTS

BBBUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Jaquan Case after pressing The Golden Buzzer

“Dr. Pearl, er, Bubbles McCall, man, I was waiting for you to take it ALL OFF but I knew that if you don’t take it ALL OFF here, you won’t take it ALL OFF at Milford Gaming Casino.”

“Thank you. I was doing this for March of Dimes and it wasn’t in the contract…”

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