This Week in Milford

April 18, 2019

Will It Sell In Platteview?

Filed under: Mimi Thorp, softball — tdrewhardin @ 8:07 am

041819

I have a nagging question that won’t go away. Did Thorpiverse rip off an Omaha phone book somewhere from a deserted phone booth off that snaky metal cord and head to the nearest sleazy diner, order a cheeseburger and coffee, and just start going down the list while he’s waiting for his cheeseburger to reach Tums stage? Musta had a helluva pocket knife to sever the cord. Musta been desperate too as us Thorp veterans are used to generic high school names, a Madison here, a Riverton there, not this Pet Shop Boys Worldwide Pony Express/Overland Trail Heritage of Nebraska Tour 2019 route that T-verse is presently employing. Really, who’s next on the schedule? Chimney Rock? Is their nickname the Slaterunners?

Marty Moon at the mike

“And she’s running on the pitch, the throw down to 2nd, and SHE’S OUT!!!!!!!! That’s right, ‘Lark fans, Jocelynn guns down another Slaterunner. They’d be wise not to run on HER arm!!!!!!!!!”

I’ll let you be the judge.

 

We were there…on the Oregon Trail

“Mimi, I called their athletic director. I can maybe squeeze it between New Thayer and Scottsbluff. But lining up the umpires is gonna be dicey.”

“But we can hitch our wagons to their posts?”

“Yes. And the Cartwrights own some property by the bluffs. Got holdings all over the West. Nice little lodge your team can sleep in. I’ll mail the check to Ben Cartwright this week.”

“Tell him that we can take on his Virginia City team and we’re rarin’ to go. I understand Hoss is their coach?”

 

Then there’s the Rockville factor. Back in my home town, Rockville(home of the Dumps), Pringles did a test market survey back in the ’60’s. Well, I think you know where this leads and it isn’t at the Apache Nation where the Lady Mudlarks are scheduled to play next week, complete with exchanging of gifts, peace pipes and beads for Jimi Hendrix hats, one autographed by the same when he was jammin’ with Buddy Miles and Billy Cox on Band of Gypsies.

The trite reasoning was if they’ll munch on those crisp parabola-shaped chips loaded down with more sodium than Gil sprays on his hair every morning, they’ll munch on ’em EVERYWHERE. Yup, even as I text, someone on the Eiffel Tower or in his Maserati going 100MPH on the Golden Gate Bridge or at the South Pole dining with the penguins is munchin’ on Pringles Bar-B-Q or Pringles Cheddar and Sour Cream or Pringles Original (nifty and catchy red design got snackers snackin’, evidently) or Pringles Buffalo Style, all because at one time when the Vietnam War was in full swing, Rockville was indulging in a pop-off cylinder of chips.

 

Rejected lyrics by Country Joe & The Fish

What are we doin’ over in Vietnam

Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn

Watching the Mudlarks beat Grand Island with singles

Here in my lawn chair snarfin’ up Pringles

 

Yeah, I like Pringles but I don’t blame Country Joe for desiring something stronger if we wanted to twist the Administration’s arm on pulling out the troops. We could only go so far with “Congress never declared war on ‘nam” logic.

 

So, yes, this story had a happy ending. Pringles is virtually a multi-national corporation (devouring Pringles Salt & Pepper in Prague, trust me), Rockville got its chips it could virtually call it’s own and city officials even sent a shipment to Platteview. Attaway to pass on the kindness, Rockville. The only hitch was Platteview sent back a case of Pringles Dill Pickle ‘n’ Dijon Ranch. Too many P-view citizenry with acid reflux, they complained.

Ours isn’t a perfect world when promoting Hands Across America.

 

Lookin’ at my watch a 3rd time

Waitin’ in the back lot for the bus

Food was bad, umps no better

We played our game and got a win for us

I know they need to get some pitching and a cleanup hitter to raise a ton of fuss

 

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

And waste another year

 

Timbuys, Big Guy, I have desperately tried to contact you but my phone evidently won’t send email messages. Sorry to leave you incommunicado and will try to get this fixed. I solved one problem. I can solve others. THANK YOU for all you do for me.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. And His Porsche Overrun By Cattle On The Chisholm Trail!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Suffers minor bruises; Cochran not implicating Lady Mudlarks in lawsuit.”

 

What a sexy combo in P2. Roy Orbison shades and the MTV logo. And this damn concept would sell if they’d quit spelling “Milford” in Vulcan. You can see the letters of the girl’s uniform in the back but you need a lorgnette to read Mimi’s shirt? God forbid this is the modus operandi on an eye chart at Milford Optical.

“Okay, put the cup over your right eye and read the letter I’m pointing to.”

“M…U…C…K…, no wait, start over, M…O…T…H…, ah, a hit, let me try again, M…I…Omega…Gamma…

 

On a late night episode of F Troop on WDIG-TV

“IT IS…..BALLOON!!!!!!”

“No, Chief, it’s just the Lady Mudlarks landing here for a 3-game series. You did remember to get extra tipis, right?”

 

And where IS that girl going in P2? The same place Dagwood’s background people go when Dagwood is cussing out Herb Woodley or Mr. Dithers is cussing out Dagwood (BUMSTEAD, you bumbled that Platteview contract!!!!!!!! I’m docking you a week’s pay!!!!!!!!!!!!!) or Dagwood is cussing out Elmo or Daisy the Dog? Okay, I might be stretching the last one but you old timers, I’m sure, remember when that mass of anonymity would pass by while Blondie would go shopping and Dagwood would be with her and she’d be using Dagwood as a sounding board while deciding what to buy? And the blob would keeping passing by in obscurity until Dagwood (normally) would utter some smartass remark, THEN the blob would all be looking their way. And it was a unique Chic Young (the author) trait, something hard to mimic. The blob, or crowd, would fall flat on their face in B.C. or Prince Valiant or Green Lantern or Dennis the Menace or Buzz Sawyer or Roscoe Sweeney or Ziggy. Hell, Marmaduke would scare off the blob.

But that’s where this poor creature is evidently headed, towards Dagwood Hell to face a life of Sisyphean Blondie-gazing, stuck in Macy’s or Kohl’s or Woolworth’s or K-Mart or Saks 5th Avenue or Milford 5-and-10, or wherever Blondie drags Dagwood around to shop for clothes, destined to be a part of men and women whose only purpose in life is to watch Blondie field Dagwood’s zingers. I know I WOULD get right with God if I knew what the consequences were otherwise.

 

At night I drink myself to sleep

And conjure all the teams

That we have yet to play

Lincoln, Wahoo

It’s a frickin’ holiday

I know it might sound strange to play a squad

That’s known by the moniker, Ogalalla

 

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

And waste another year

 

Uh oh. Santa and his Reindeer has just pulled up. Okay, Santa, I take back all the things I said about Gil’s hair. Can I have that Lionel Train Set and Matchbox Collection I ask you about when I sat on your lap at the Milford Mall? Surely it’s in that bag SOMEWHERE.

And I remember when I was a kid when I went to my dentist and the 2 things that stand out was his Frank Gorshin-as-Riddler laugh and semi-demeanor and his largesse from the Goody Drawer if we were good boys and girls while he and his dental assistants were undergoing root canal work. I’d get a toy plastic car here, the ones you got free inside a box of, say, Trix or Fruit Loops, or a smiley face there. Nope, couldn’t get Barbie Dolls or GI Joe Action Figures, the Goody Drawer wasn’t big enough, just a little reward for behaving yourself while he was fluoridating your gums.

I think Jocelynn brought along the Goody Bag today. You’ve been such good boys and girls, mainly girls, that you are going to get whatever you like in the bag, even if it’s primarily hats.

Here’s a Mouseketeer hat for you, Linda, a Beetle Bailey cap for you, Jamila, so they’ll never see your eyes when you’re pitching, art of deception, y’know, a Bear Bryant fedora for you, Nancy, Roll Tide Roll, a Patton helmet for you, Mimi, er, Coach, it might jump start a dead battery and cause you to actually lead the team not let Gomer Pyle issue the order to fire in the hills of Africa when Erwin Rommel is coming.

Somewhere in Tunisia

“Pyle ist Dummesel. Ich bin optimistisch.”

“Ja, Sie konnen optimistisch seien. Ich nicht.”

Couldn’t say it better myself, Rommel. Mimi needs to be optimistic AND in charge. Might help the team.

 

So after all the hat-passing, are we going to see any more softball, let alone BASEBALL this year? Or is there going to be another Dances With Wolves powwow, designed to promote Native American relations even if it doesn’t promote sports anytime soon? To quote Stuart Scott, are gonna get jiggy with the plot?

“Chief say we can’t play that weekend. The Great Hunt starts Saturday and men gone all day. Ladies are needed to prepare the cooking. Everybody really hungry and in no mood for softball. We have no problem with following Saturday. We welcome competition.”

I’d have Jocelynn present Gil with a chief headdress but like the true Tatanka that he is, he’s been gone on a Golf Convention down in Florida. Using his Sick Days from school. And he’d look silly anyway with Arnie and the Golden Bear on #4, Dog Leg Right. Hell, Jocelynn, just give him the Slicer/Dicer. He needs to learn how to cut up Julienne Fries anyway when Mimi and the Mudlarks are battling the eskimos in the bottom of the ninth.

 

“T…H…I…S…S…U…C…K…S”

“Sir, you’re reading from USA Today.”

 

It’s not as though we really need this

If it were smut, I wouldn’t read it

And they have played ’bout every town

In Nebraska, up and down

I wonder if that’s how it oughta be

 

Well, I know it might sound strange but I believe we’ll be in Ogallala once again

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

And waste another year

 

Have at it, Gang. I’m going to see if I can get a Yankees cap. Just to remind me that baseball still exists even when the sport wound up in the Bermuda Triangle when Thorpiverse grabbed a hold of it.

 

“…U…C…K…E…R”

Not bad, but that’s Mimi’s Lee’s label.”

 

“…You’ll wind up on some vacant sand lot

That’s full-time filth

And nowhere else to go…”

 

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April 16, 2019

Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better, Including Hat-Making And Pepper.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 9:04 am

 

 

 

 

Everybody wants to rule the world. Yes, that’s the unofficial theme for today’s post after a Lady Mudlark suggested dropping out of school and plying their wares for the good of Mankind. Why stop at blowing off scrimmage? Why not just declare outright truancy and just skip school and sell hats at a roadside stand somewhere on the outskirts of Milford along with the tomatoes, squash, New Thayer County melons, jowl bacon in a jar, grape jelly in a jar big enough to fit Gil’s hair, Milford Valley Homemade Peanut Butter, and the coup-de-grace, that painting of those dogs playing poker, cigars and all. Wearing one of Jocelynn’s hats, no doubt.

Who knows? They’ll make enough money to attend Milford Community College, where they can talk about blowing off that History 203 exam(essay exam, naturally), flunk out and sell some more hats. Well, Milford and vicinity will be more stylish, if nothing else.

So to kick it off, you whippersnappers, Joe Walsh has been kind enough to step in and rough up the situation. The album’s a classic, “There Goes The Neighborhood”, the album cover reflecting the current mood. Have at it, Joe

 

So you made a wish

On this falling plot

That’s what you got

 

Whoa, whoa

And here it is

Like it or not

 

And the truth is

Nobody cares

Everybody’s gone

 

It’s so useless

Playing the game

Heaven knows they’re lost

 

And if it takes until the story runs dry

’til the story runs dry

If it takes until the golf season comes to see why

 

Joe Walsh killer guitar riff, we proceed

 

If ya got yore ass fired from yore 3rd shift premium pay 9.13/hour job at the Milford Foundry cuz you wuz caught in the bathroom stall makin’ ball caps with fish or deer designs (“Man, Check out that bass on Kaz’s head.”) on ’em on the sly, cuttin’ inta yore productivity on the assembly line, ya might be a redneck.

 

YEEEEESSSSSSSSS, I GET BY!!!!!!!!!!!!! WITHA LITTLE HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!! FROM!!!! MY!!!!!!! FRIENDS!!!!!!!!!!!

“Gil, you damn near knocked over our lamp we got on our wedding day!!!!!”

“Sorry, Mimi, everybody down at the Milford Country Club says I sound exactly like Joe Cocker. They said I have all kinds of hidden talents.”

“Well, the next time your hidden talent knocks over the aquarium, your cleaning it up and putting the bluegill back in the tank.”

“BTW, Mimi, you have any VO5 in the cabinet. I was gonna spray my hair until it fizzes out, then comb it every which way, then head to the sauna at the club for 2 hours. I’m a dead ringer for Cocker.”

“Gil, you’ll probably be just plain dead if anybody sees you.”

“Aw, Mimi, I can do an epileptic seizure like Cocker with the best of them. Don’t rain on my parade. Please.”

 

And as Franku has alluded to or just flat out expressed, as much as I appreciate Show and Tell in P1, Thorpiverse is ONCE AGAIN sending us off on another tangent, another Black Hole for which it’s no fun to watch Santa and his reindeer struggle to get back out of (“Rudolph!!!!!! We’ve been sucked in before!!!!!!!!!!!! Can’t you give your nose any more Lumens?????!!!!!!??????”) . Yeah, on Donner, on Blitzen, now Dasher, now Prancer, fer sure. And we could stretch this with the Rosey-Greer-does-needlepoint outlook but, remember, he didn’t do needlepoint on 1st and 10 on Sunday. Nope, didn’t give the opposing quarterback any crochet needles after he sacked his ass for 17 yards that I’m aware of.

“Hey, Deac, your testicles are showing through your jock strap. Want me to sew it up for ya?”

“Greer!!!!!!!!!! I’m in the middle of shootin’ a Dairy Queen commercial!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Cut, cut. Now, Deac, I want you to mention the Chili Fries after you mention going to a bakery…”

What a perfect activity after a win. A quilting bee. For Show and Tell

“Oh look, boys and girls, Babe knitted an afghan with The Iron Horse in the pattern. And he belted 714 home runs today. I think he deserves a Good Job button, don’t you?”

 

 

“You never even called me by my nammmmmeeee.

Well, a coupla friends of mine, Coach Shaw and Steven Goodman, wrote that song and told me that that was the Perfect Country Sing.

I wrote back to both of them and told them it was NOT the Perfect Country Song because it didnt say anything at all about Mama or Trains or Rain or Prison or Pick-up Trucks or Gettin’ Drunk.

They went over to The Bucket where they’re still tryin’ to get their liquor license and let that sink in and piss ’em off and they got ta writin’ like an elephant on a rampage. Finally, after several Bucket Daiquiri Shakes, they sent me back the revised version. I read over it and said, damn, Bucket Daiquiri Shakes ain’t Falls City and the kids may still have to go to Mom’s PTA meetings to drink any but they had  come up with THE PERFECT COUNTRY SONG. And it goes like this

I was drunk at The Bucket

The day my mom got out of prison

And I went to pick her in the rain

But before I could get to Milford Amtrak

In my pick-up truck

She got ran over by a dammed ol’ trainnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Rizk Gets 3 Standing O’s At Milford Girls-a-Go-Go Club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“She sounds like Coe and even has his hair!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Damn, these strained negations

Feeling 2 foot smalllllll

God, this story crashes

Hidden talent for softballllll??????

 

Guess they made their mind up

Whoa, whoa

Such a shame to wind up

 

In the Valley cellar

Selling chocalate chip

Mired in endless talents

On a sinking ship

 

But I guess they made their mind up

 

 

What a perfect way to lead into my next gripe. The ladies in P2 are getting ridiculous about this. They won a softball game that had its moments, suddenly we’re comparing notes on who can do what when they’re NOT playing softball. Oh, here’s a radical talent. You might wanna hold onto your girlfriend on this one

“Damn, she can CATCH THE BALL!!!!!!!!! Pop-ups in the infield wont be an issue with her at shortstop.”

“She was so quiet. I would have never thought.”

Otherwise, after-game rituals are really not the time to beat your chest and say you can whup anybody’s butt in Chinese checkers. I really wouldn’t mention you can play “Who Are You” by The Who on the Jew’s harp with your harelip. Oh, that oughta be a great duet with you and Keith Moon. A Platinum Album, no question.

“My dog’s better than your dog,

My dog’s better than yours

My dog’s better

Cuz he’s got the Trig table memorized

My dog’s better than yours”

Probably got rewarded with Ken-L Ration after memorizing Sin, then Cosine, etc.

 

Ever’ goddang one of those gloves was a-waggin’

Under the old horseshoe

Tonight, the players chose a leader

Gave Mimi Thorp the screws

 

There were skaters and knitters

And talkers and runners

They had too much to do

They ran off from school

And joined the Legion

Talented in shooting in their Blues

 

I think you get my message for P3 and therefore I will leave you to admire the North by Northwest shot which graces the strip quite frequently. We know one thing. Another one of Linda’s hidden talents is using Colgate.

Shout-out to Ashley Leonard of Louisville, Kentucky. She got approved for her Disability the other day and I couldn’t be happier. You need to be taken care of, Ashley. She is VERY talented at knitting and this BY NO MEANS a hidden talent. She does a lot of intricate patterns, many of your favorite school (UK, UCLA, Florida State, Duke, IU, etc.) and she did one of the US Navy insignia. And I was impressed. Ashley refuses to stop living, getting out and about. Treat her with respect. And get a quilt from her. Her rates are reasonable, trust me.

At the Milford Fun Center Arcade

“Good Lord, Kaz, I didn’t know you could play Pac-Man. You’ve eaten up 1,435 goblins and are at the 23rd level-”

“Gentlemen, we’re closing. Wrap it up.”

“Ah, jeez, one more quarter, puh-leeezze.”

 

“Ya know, some people will stoop to anything to get a license when they need to stick to Burgers and Fries. Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse.

Mr. Absentee Owner of The Bucket has been slingin’ some mud lately and I don’t mean in the stuff you sling at room temperature in the Bucket Moose Tracks Shake. He’s been saying we use threats of intimidation and bullying, to the point of involving the Mafia. If you believe him, I have a Choc-Ola farm over near Oakwood to sell ya cheap. Just pluck a bottle off the tree. What’s more, I don’t speak Italian.

He’s mad because we have the finest selection. of wines and whiskeys with a rotunda at the front of the store with all the Budweiser you’ll ever need. A fountain of paradise. You can lick from the faucet and grab you a case to purchase. Yeah, Mr. AO, try to install THAT by the soda jerk. Don’t want my Bud mixed in with with any hot fudge sundae, thank you very much.

And he can flap his jaws about all these children’s drinks but if I want creme de menthe in a pacifier, I’ll head to Milford Day Care and get one from Keri from her lunchbox. When you want to grow up and smell the Stella Artois, it’s waitin’ on ya by Mike-Sell’s Green Onion Chips. And BTW, if you buy Stella by the pound, ALL Cheetos are BOGO’s, My Friend. Ummmmm, um, Stella and 2 bags of Jalapeno Cheese Curls. With Salsita Dip. It’s like sending Mr. AO in a trunk and letting Sonny Corleone decide where to go when he sneaks by the forest ranger station at the National Forest.

Oops, now don’t get no ideas. I just happen to remember Mr. AO’s horse when the former was in bed. Some things bring back bad memories. But there’s no horse’s heads on all the Martini & Rossi Wines, from Dark Cherry to my favorite, Peach Mango Lite. Hey, if I can enjoy The Good Life and still look like Jack LaLanne, can ya blame me?

But don’t take my word for it or Mr. AO’s either. Come down and see that once you open the door to check out our selection and prices, the car will remain intact. And if you want Daiquiri Pudding Pops in your Happy Meal, you know where The Bucket is located. Suck on your lollipop, go ahead.

Then come down and taste some real drinking, straight from El Dorado. You’ll be glad you did.

 

Do ‘er to ‘er, Gang. I’m gonna go show my hidden talent to the baseball team, singing “The National Anthem” in Bantu. God, do you realize how long it took to memorize Dative Case?

 

SHE CAME IN THROUGH THE BATHROOM WINDOW

“Gil!!!!!!!!! Come to bed!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Living a life of illusion…

April 11, 2019

Put Me In, Coach, I’m Ready To Coach Today.

Filed under: ?, actual action, freak hands, Just plain sad, Mimi Thorp, Pointy Fingers — tdrewhardin @ 9:17 am

041119

Before we deal with reality here (no sarcasm intended, you know me) , is that the same fence that goes around Shawshank? We’ll never get out alive. Get busy playin’ or get busy dyin’ while we’re waiting for the clock to wind down. At least DuFresne had a stone Carver to weasel out of his own plot. And look where he wound up.

 

Outside of the Scrimmage Bust, we’ve really not seen Mimi in charge of anything and if today is any indication, that status seems unlikely to change.

Granted, teams need team leaders. Extension of the coaches. Nothing will pull your hair out if you’re trying to implement your system, philosophy, and ideas but no one cares enough to take that on the field or court and branch that system out to other players. Put Jocelynn Brown on my team ANYTIME. My ideas will spread like wildfire with her communication skills.

But P1, while I’m sure Brown will indeed develop into a team leader, if you had to translate, would ring something like “Sit yo’ ass down, Girl, I’ll go out and get her out of her funk.” Mimi, inverted hands and all, is staging little resistance at this point. Yeah, just sit on the bench, Mimi, and keep filing your nails. The inmates are still running the prison and are unlikely to relinquish control anytime soon.

“Hi, Pat Summerall for True Value Hardware. Did your hands make contact with the Milford & Oakwood coal train and you couldn’t spin away? And you’re already diagnosed with dishpan hands??

The good people at True Value have all the equipment to deal with such irregularities that won’t strain your budget.

Get a Dewalt 20V Combo Drill Kit on sale for just $159. You’ll also need a Stanley Fatmax Utility Knife to cut through the socket. Great for cutting through the wires when you’re tired of listening to Madden or Brookshier diagram another play.  That’s a bargain for $9.99. A Dewalt 30′ Tape Measure, now selling for $9.99. Gotta have accurate measurements here if you want your appendages screwed back in at the proper angle. GearWrench 8-Piece Set, an appropriate gift for anybody’s birthday, adaptable to any carpal size, on sale for $59.39. Poulan Chain Saw, in case the wrist project was more ambitious than anticipated, selling at a remarkable $55.99.

True Value Hardware has all the things you need to make life a little easier and when you’re finally able to hold tea cups without spilling Earl Grey on Gil’s lap and still be able to watch the game, life is sweeter.

But don’t take my word for it. Stop by your local True Value store and meet the friendly staff who’ll help you with your dreams and designs. And tell ’em Pat sent ya.”

What can I say about P2? It’s a given that Thorpiverse is trying to strut its stuff and flash its Withitness out for the world to see. Art patrons from all over the globe will be mightily intrigued, if not impressed, at this portrait hanging in the Gallery today, next to Dejeuner sur l’Herbe.  Girls who missed scrimmage because the Great Pumpkin was coming to Milford Farm Market to sign autographs in a questionable perspective next to a painting of naked women dining with Men About Town in Gay Paris, you couldn’t match George and Gracie any better.

So Thorpiverse is establishing the strike zone(Hoo boy) by showing what the diamond would look like if we were forced at gunpoint to give up our American Express Traveler’s Cheques AND take a snap shot from a certain angle, focusing on the catcher settling down the pitcher.

And, as mentioned earlier, Jocelynn could possibly be another Ozzie Bean, a catcher on Gil’s team who knew how to shrewdly handle a pitching staff. Yup, Milford Penitentiary was operated by John Dillenger and Pretty Boy Floyd back then, too. I felt sorry for the Sysco semi trying to implement food logistics past those 2 clowns.

Anyway, when she’s telling Kareem Abdul-Jabbar to quit aiming her sky hook and just pitch, is that the 3rd baseman to their left? Really no way that could be the shortstop, Ted Williams was left-handed, unless they got ANOTHER shift on an extreme pull-hitter who’s a 3rd base umpire’s nightmare. But what in the name of Dutch Rennert is she doing facing AWAY from the scheme of things???? Saying “Hi Mom”? If we wanted to be truly fair with perspectives, Mom would have to be perched along with the buzzards with their binoculars watching the same game on one of the branches on the mutant poplar in the background. I reckon that affords a better view than the bleachers and we’ll excuse Thorpiverse for mutant poplars taking foliage liberties in early April. Okay, T-verse, it’s in full summer bloom even if the sugar maple trees in the neighborhood around here are just now shooting out its whirlygigs(wink, wink).

So is the 3rd baseman playing pitch and catch? That’s what warm-ups before the game are for, amiright? And WHO would she be tossing to? The 3rd base umpire, who was last seen hiding behind the tarp rather than get pelted with a down-the-line job, at least that’s what the Missing Persons show reported anyhoo.

“If you’ve seen this man, call now at 1-800-THE-LOST or text at umpireisonthelooseandhis familyisgettingworried@yahoo.com. You can leave an anonymous tip and your call can help track down a man who’s needed for the Milford American Legion Tournament next weekend. He is in his 30’s, has blond hair, hazel eyes, calls a strike zone wider than Gil’s verandah, makes an occasional bad call at 2nd base because he’s dyslexic and thinks that’s 1st base. Please, if you’ve seen him, go to the phone IMMEDIATELY. Your tip does make a difference.”

 

Is the 3rd baseman playing pitch and catch with the 3rd base coach? That, BTW, wouldn’t be Mimi. Try giving the green light when the runner’s rounding 3rd with your hands welded in reverse. Man o man, the welder down at Milford Steel ought to take a urine test pronto. Don’t flash the bunt sign, Mimi.

The only other option is she’s pitching horseshoes. True, there might be a horseshoe pit by the batting cage and I’m sure horseshoe-tossing instills character and competitiveness, in that order (“RINGER!!!!!!!!! IN YOUR FACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!” “CARR, SHAKE HANDS WITH BROWN OR YOU’LL BE RUNNING LAPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!”) , but even if there is one (Thorpiverse and its Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds outlook on the softball diamond) , NO WAY could she be doing that with her cauliflower-shaped glove (Milford Sporting Goods were out of Spalding Rutabaga Special Edition) . She won’t get too many ringers that way.

Finally, the (fingers crossed) left fielder with the Christy Mathewson New York Giant 1905 Commemorative World Series Champion Memento uniform, complete with socks up to her pelvic area, is really out of position. No left fielder stands 3 feet from the fence on the 3rd base side unless she may be sneaking in a Camel break. Or kibitzing the 3rd baseman pitching horseshoes. She’s close enough to the action.

Or maybe

“The kisses and love

Won’t carry me

’til ya marry me

Gillllllllll

I got the Wedding Bell Bluuueesss”

 

Nah, couldn’t be whistling anything by The 5th Dimension. Just chewing on a Bazooka Joe while Jocelynn is learning Mimi’s job.

If ya swagger yore beer belly while yore standin’ in the 3rd base box as a signal that yore softball hitter’s got th’ green light on a 3-0 count ta park one over in the next softball diamond on a typical Monday night Men’s Open 40 and Over League, ya might be a redneck.

 

Jocelynn, your words of wisdom in P3 are priceless. You will make a great head coach one day. When Mimi is reduced to a role of a mannequin with her hands in reverse gear, you know the stage is yours. She and Gil are on the golf course half the time anyway.

 

 

You come on like a dream

Peaches and cream

Lips like strawberry wine

You’re six feet tall

You’re strong

And you’re still throwing heat.

 

All right, all right, get off my back. Jocelynn Brown and Ringo never met. Ringo just saw that on graffiti somewhere in Liverpool next to “Echo & the Bunnyman is God”. Just became a rough draft and the rest was history. Ringo bunked Pete Best and Mimi felt like Pete Best when George Martin wanted Jocelynn as the coach. Sue me.

Gang, it’s your turn. I’m going to get the left fielder’s autograph. Anyone have a Bic handy?

 

You walked out of my dreams

And into my arms

Now you’re my angel divine

You’re six feet…

 

 

In Dr. Pearl’s office on any given school day

“So you coached the Milford Optimist 3rd Grade Girls Softball League? What was your relationship with the fellow coaches like?”

“You have excellent references. I know Darryl Strawberry personally. He was coaching when Gil was on Sabbatical.”

“We have 3 other candidates to interview. Send me that cover letter at your convenience. My fax number is 1-888-523-9473.”

April 9, 2019

“We Beat The Mighty Ducks. Now Go Kick Bugs’ Ass.”

Filed under: actual action, softball — tdrewhardin @ 10:07 am

040919

Laughter is free

But it’s hard to be

A TWIM reader

Anytime

 

No one’s believin’

That this plot

Has any meaning

And we’re shocked

All the time

Deep inside

 

Sorry, Gang, had ta start off with a Moody Blues number to confront the Mighty Bunnies. Who’s their mascot, Elmer Fudd?

Shhhhhhhhhh. Be vewy vewy quiet. I’m hunting Mighty Bunnies. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I mean, really, can’t you see the fans in the bleachers, along with the fielders, shoutin’ out “Heyyyyyyyyy, battuh battuh, heyyyyyyyyy, battuh battuh SWING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” with Elmer Fudd leading the charge from his megaphone??? Shoutin’ something derogatory to the umps

“Come on, ump, you need gwasses!!!!!!!!!!!! That pitcher can’t thwow stwikes. That pitch was at his bweastpwate!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

I can see the discipline report

“Man with severe lisp and shotgun by the chalk liner was getting very abusive with the men in blue. Repeated warnings were to no avail, even when offered rabbit stew from the concession stand. Had to be escorted by Dudley Dooright from the premises.”

And what’s he gonna do when it wains, er, rains????? Is he going to be able to fit under the concession stand with the rest of the fans?????? One would hope but some concession stands aren’t fit to withstand the capacity of a whole slew of bunnies, mighty or no. He could always go to the maintenance room and sit on a riding mower if the door is unlocked and his butt will fit on the mower.

Gil and Elmer, sitting on bags of peat moss stacked about 6 bags high, talkin’ baseball. Willllliiieeeee, Mickie, and The Duke. Priceless.

 

I’ve shed a tear for this plot

Watching it rot

Hoping it skips town

 

With back flips, cartwheelies,

Somersault feelies

Baseball’s one big clown

 

Laughter is free

But it’s hard to see

Gil coaching anytime

 

No one’s believin’

That this team is achievin’

We’re not shocked

At the thought

Anytime

 

P1 is interesting. Surprisingly, it really doesn’t have too many flaws, that’s what happens when Gil isn’t in the portrait and you can”t make another Everley Brother crack.

Mimi returns to Hee Haw. Lulu is sitting in the bleachers at the Milford Multi-Purpose Parthenon and Atheneum and Outdoor Facilities General Recreational and Enhancing Activities Softball Complex, surrounded by corn fields, the developers nice enough to bulldoze 9/10 of the same field but leaving Lulu and Grandpa Jones and Buck Owen and Roy Clark, et al SOMEWHERE to sit.

Mimi: “Hey, Lulu!!!!!!!!!!”

Lulu: “Hey what?????”

Mimi: You know how many Everley Brothers it takes to screw in a light bulb????????”

Lulu: “Wait, don’t tell me, Grandpa Jones  told me before he had his lobotomy-”

Mimi: “3. One to hold the ladder, one to screw it in, and one to say ‘ Hey!!!!!! You dumbasses, if we’re gonna make it down to the Muhlenberg County Fair, we can’t pull a Gil and wait!!!!!!!!!  The WK is backed up because a semi overturned and spilled Bucket Cheeseburgers everywhere!!!!!!!!! We gotta go now!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Lulu: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

 

Oh, there’s Grace Jones gracing her presence in the hallways. I’m kinda curious what position she plays on the team. I’m comforted knowing that she’ll have a helmet big enough to engulf her hairdo so we can focus on her position. Ahhhhhh, Mimi know all, tells all.

“Grace, I’m going to try you at DH. Watch the ball all the way into your hairline.”

“Yes, Coach.”

And Mimi pulls off Hoosiers II

“What’s the matter now??????”

“Coach, if you’ll give me a bobby pin, I’ll hit that homer. Their pitcher is throwin’ mangoes.”

 

Then there’s the Hand of Lurch. Why can’t Thorpiverse draw anatomy of teenagers without involving Father Time?????? Do teenagers carry their Chem 1, Advanced Lit, Algebra 2, and Mechanical Drawing textbooks attached to forelimbs once owned by a little old lady from Pasadena who only used them on Sunday?????? Then endowed Barnabas Collins with them in her will before she died?????

 

At The Bucket

“WOW!!!!!!!!! That banana split looks awesome!!!!!!!!!! I’m gonna order that. Hey, waiter!!!!!!!!!”

“You rang?”

 

If ya pitched a no-hitter for Milford Foundry on Men’s Open Slo-Pitch Wednesday Night against Milford Toyota cuz half their team was too drunk to even bunt the ball ta git on base then go right around and coach Milford Tool & Die’s ladies team on Ladies Industrial on Monday night, complete with scorebook, pen, and Bud in your back pocket so the ump don’t see it while you’re standin’ square in the 3rd base box, ya might be a redneck.

 

And while I can appreciate their membership in the Reader’s Digest Book-of-the Month Club, they really should be toting textbooks. Isn’t that why they’re in the hallways to begin with???? I’m sure “Ball Four” was interesting (not really, Bouton was a clubhouse lawyer throughout the book, IMHO) but it’d be wise to be studying your capitals for that Geography 203 test tomorrow.

Otherwise, HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY

 

If ya bought a new Hillerich and Bradsby Titanium special cuz ya like ta hear the WHACK of the bat when yuz hittin’ a homer over the right field fence even when the poor beer-bellied right fielder is givin’ chase and his CRACK is stickin’ out while he leaps 2 inches off the ground tryin’ ta rob ya of any glory, instead of KRAK, somethin’ some Pole stuck in the English language at ball games when Hary and Steve weren’t lookin’, and now it’s standard vocab for Fodor’s Polish in 10 Days, ya might be a redneck.

 

It sings

It dances

It throws and it prances

The ladies put on a show

 

Too bad

This is softball

No disco, no cannons

Linda won’t get shot out

Guess we better go

 

Laughter is free

But it’s hard to be

A Mudlark when it counts

No one’s really caring

The ladies have no daring

And they choke

Under pressure

Everytime

 

 

OK. P3 made me laugh. Benson Mighty Bunnies??????? But hold on, this was more of a Thorpiverse contrivance than a School Board-motivated vote. And I like different until it involves Thorpiverse and different has a tendency to steer the plot and create another New Madrid Fault. Life on the Mississippi with a steamship full of Mighty Bunnies steered by Mark Twain. And Thorpiverse one of the patrons. It’s different, if nothing else.

 

Anyway, I like different nicknames. In my home state of Indiana we have the Vincennes Alices (don’t laugh, they won the State in Boys Basketball in ’81 and have always been formidable) and the Shoals Jug Rox (named after the biggest free-standing rock structure east of the Mississippi, shaped like a jug, propping another boulder perpendicular to that-drive east on US 50 as you head into Shoals going down a gentle curvy hill, it’ll be on your left, can’t miss it) . So I like different. It makes for good high school rivalries.

But again, when Thorpiverse is involved, well…

That’s why I’ve employed the help of the late Stuart Scott, a man who took ESPN journalism to a new level and as long as the Mighty Bunnies are going to stick around

“It must be jam cuz Elmer don’t shake like that”

“Porky Pig, one swing at the plate BOO-YAH, it’s gone and the Mighty Bunnies tie it up”

“Foghorn had a no-hitter going through 6, Leghorn was like buttuh, he was on a roll”

“And they called Daffy Duck the Bus Driver cuz he took Linda Carr to School with that laser in left”

“Yeah, a grand slam and the Mighty Bunnies are runnin’ away with it, making the Mudlarks pay for no scrimmage cuz of all the sorry-ass excuses, YEAH, I’M FEELIN’ YA, BUGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Oh, my, look at that great catch to rob Nancy of extra bases, can I get a Yosemite Sam from the congregation?”

“The dog in Foghorn Leghorn was cool as the other side of the pillow”

 

If you have others, go for it. Stuart would have wanted it that way.

Stuart, I miss you. You brightened my day EVERY day.

 

Comment away, Gang. Just watch out for that UFO in P3. And tell the coach in P3 the box is on the other side of the line. Oh, that’s the umpire. Doin’ the “Same As It Ever Was” dance as the Mighty Bunny runner. Ump, I think the proper mechanics is “Safe”. You know, wave both arms away from you, not strut like David Byrne.Remember, the umpire manual says “No one likes an actor.”

 

Laughter is free…

 

Your painted hair hides you

While you still hang out on the

Golf course

Yesterday

And Tomorrow’s fine

Fused as one

AS ALL THE CROWD IS GOING NUTS OVER THIS COCOA PUFFS OF A PLOT AND THEIR LOVE’S FORGETFULNESS

Upon you

So be thankful

For your painted hair

Clown

er, Gil

If loneliness wears the crown

of the

Veteran Cosmic Mudlark

April 4, 2019

The Dumbness Of It All

040419

Are we STILL in this powwow caterwauling about our personal reasons why we didn’t make scrimmage which I think Mimi scheduled about the time they elected the last Pope? Do we really honestly have to keep harping on our petty differences and keep wasting 3 panels per day and watch several Sysiphus’s keep pushing that boulder up the hill, only to find out we have 3 MORE panels to push the boulder on and then learn we could be thrown 3 panels at a time and the damn rock is still in the gym at the half court line? Thank God, Mimi didn’t schedule the end of the year Sports Banquet. Did Sisyphus ever try to push a humongous MVP trophy up a hill?

Gang, before I go any further, a HUGE apology to y’all because I have been trying like Hell all day to get this published and my phone kept erasing the work. As you can see, it took a while to get to where I could publish anything. I wouldn’t blame if you don’t want to read any further but if you do, I will ’til my dying days try to get this damn problem fixed. It is no fun having Eureka! moments, only to watch the phone wipe them away (fortunately I wrote it all down, something good comedians do, as my dad has taught       me) . Thank you for your patience. Your readership in a over a year of publishing means the world to me.

Isn’t Nancy beating a dead Mr. Horse in the ground????????

“Nope, she’s running the ticker tape out into center field. I’ll have to use the vacuum. I don’t think I like getting the extension cord and plugging it into the outlet in the scoreboard. I don’t like it one bit.”

OK, OK, Nancy, Diff’rent Strokes for Diff’rent Folks. We gotta live together. P2 is a good embodiment of that. I’ve listened to the same Sly & The Family Stone album you have. Now will you turn off your Close ‘n’ Play and Puh-LEEEASSSSEEEE get your ass out on the field and play ball???????????

By gum, we’re still in the Milford Mall after having danced to “All Over the World”. Are we waiting for an encore?????? No, Nancy, I don’t think Guy Lombardo and his Orchestra are going to appear to play the same song, I’m doubtin’ he has the same technology as Jeff Lynne, ditto, Lawrence Welk. Mitch Miller? And those acoustics that sounded like they were singing straight from the commode? Fuhgetaboutit.

I just mentioned Jacqueline Susann and her band of Merry Valley of the Dolls in a tongue-in-cheek manner, thinking,well, it IS a sports strip, Major League Baseball just started the season, and there was action at the beginning of the arc.

But Susann can go to Midas and read through several articles in National Geographic (“Milford at a Crossroads.”) in the waiting room  before all her calipers and brake pads are fixed and still have time to spare, maybe go to the Milford Majestic to catch “Mary Poppins for the Saturday Matinee (all seats, $4.00, free unbuttered popcorn) , before Valley of the Dolls concludes the Mini-Series. God, hope there’s not a sequel. And she might have just enough time to do a guest appearance on Holly wood Squares, assuming her agent gives the green light.

Linda and Nancy will surely kiss and make up and Linda will make the final cut for the Olympic Volleyball team and Nancy will have polished her act before performing Synchronized Kung Fu at Carnegie Hall (“Everybody was Kung Fu fighting HAAAAA!!!!!!!…”) .

EVERYBODY ALL AROUND THE WORLLLDDDDDD

LET ME TELL YOU WHAT I JUST HEARD—

“GIL!!!!!!!!!! Get those teenagers away from the pool and tell them to leave!!!!!!!!! And get your ass in bed!!!!!!!!!!”

“Honnneeeeeyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!! The doctor said this is good physical therapy on  my back.”

As we continue our tour of the Milford Museum of Fine Arts, we approach a painting recovered out of the property across the street from The Bucket, a lost entry from Picasso called “Diana Ross-One Day, We’ll Be Together”. No truer words could be uttered.  She simply never mentioned that she was forced to use Elmer’s Glue to prove her point.

Now the challenge is to figure out the rest of the anatomy and if you can match limbs to torso, apply at your nearest med school. They need you.

“…Catwoman at the rodeo with The Joker on a double date with The Riddler and Totie Fields??????”

“Gil, just because SHE got 30,000 hits, doesn’t mean YOU’D get the same result…”

All righty then, if you’re through playing Jenga, your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to figure out how Nancy rolls gutter balls publishing articles about Batgirl’s sex life. I’m sure it draws some interest but 30,000????? If there was an episode  about The Joker dumping alum in Batman’s Bucket Full o’ Cheerios while Robin is chowing down on a Bucket Sub, designed to give Batman the runs and Erectile Dysfunction so bad you’d  no longer see that bulge you used to see when Adam West donned the costume and there’d be no hope of little Batmans running around the Bat Cave, sporting bulges of their own, the episode would score big on the Nielsen ratings, I’m sure, but nowhere NEAR “Who Shot J.R.?” proportions. Nancy, it’d be in your best interests to adjust the numbers a tad.

So I don’t look like a wet blanket and rain on Nancy’s parade, so Batgirl calls the Green Lantern for a weekend retreat and because she’s lonely and she just has had a thing for phallic symbols painted green so she’s gotta have that Green Thang when they hit Mudlark Lake Resort. Sure, it makes a unique romance novel storyline but doubt any President of the United States really has any interest. Nope, don’t think Eisenhower would take the bait, much less use his influence to get 30,000 other people to read it.

Wonder Woman saving the Milford Gymnasium from Lex Luthor’s Gigantic X-Ray Machine is catchy but 30,000 sitting on the edge of their seats wondering if they’ll have open gym tomorrow is inflating the figures somewhat. You might squeeze another 5,000 if that same ray gun is aimed at The Bucket (“I’ll have the Bucket 3-Bean Salad and Apple Fries—GET DOWN!!!!!!!! LUTHOR’S POINTING HIS GUN RIGHT AT YOUR BUCKET PEACH COBBLER!!!!!!!!!!!”) but let’s not confuse Nancy’s “Let Me Roll Female Superheroes to You” with “Great Expectations”. One’s a classic and I’ll let you do the math on that one.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J.: ‘I Didn’t Use No Gloves This Time!!!!!!!!! Me And Batgirl Are Completely On The Level!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

STOP!!!!!!!!!!!! IN THE NAME OF LOVEEEEEE

BEFORE YOU BREAK MY HEAR——

“Girl, is there ANY way you can get your foot offa my spinal column???????? Hard to turn to the right at the bridge of the song.”

Kevin Wright of Louisville, Kentucky, you do a GREAT job of taking care of the customer at the Pizza Hut in St. Matthews, Kentucky. Your enthusiasm for your job is contagious and the Cookie Pizza that was made the other day was DELICIOUS. You hve over come a lot and it shows in the pizza you make. Giving up is not in your vocabulary. Gang, if you go to Kevin at The Hut, give him some love and respect, he’s earned plenty of both.

With “Fun, Fun, Fun” by The Beach Boys in the background

“Great balls o’ fire, we’re havin’ a great time down here at The Bucket!!!!!!!! Wish you were here.

Hi, this is Mr. Absentee Landowner, here to stop bad publicity in its tracks. Like bad plotlines, they put a damper on your business. Nobody buys Bucket Banana Splits when there’s no girls basketball as was the case this year. Had to send 2 tons of Chiquita to the Milford Recycling Center. Believe me, we’ve had more Bucket Slurpees dumped on our image and it’s time to answer the charges that Milford Beverage Warehouse has been leveling at us.

The Warehouse claims our last Zoning Commission meeting was cancelled because our case was hopeless. Allow me to set the record straight. One of the members of the Zoning Commission lost a grandmother when she put the car in reverse and got the surprise of her life. He had to attend the funeral. Out of respect, we sent a bouquet of daffodils that we ordered from Milford Floral to express our condolences. The meeting has been rescheduled a week from this coming Tuesday.  And our lawyers will be there, not down at The Warehouse buying Lance’s Sour Cream Crackers. Land o’ Goshen, the shit The Warehouse piles on.

And The Warehouse will have you believe that  our lawyer, Nick Vinicello, got concrete shoes fitted on from Payless Shoe Stores and dumped into Milford Reservoir, due to a rival family perturbed at his representing the Gambinos. But even as I speak, he is ordering Bucket Popcorn Shrimp and Caesar’s Salad, complete with 2 packets of Bucket Italian Dressing. The Bucket even let him wear his bullet-proof vest. He is confident we will get our license even if the whole damn Zoning Commission loses members of their families, explicable or inexplicable. Sometimes you can’t help it if a Milford businessman was a cousin of Jimmy Hoffa. I’ll bet an order of Bucket Rattlesnake Fries someone at The Warehouse was kin to Al Capone.

Now the good news. We are offering something unique. Right now through April, The Bucket is offering Children’s Drinks as a way of expressing our thanks for sticking with us while fighting The Dark Side. Darth Vader can fight this all he wants, but if The Force wants The Bucket to serve Buds and PBR right next to Bucket Grilled Chicken and Scallops Combo, The Empire can bomb The Bucket all it wants but Han Solo returned in the movie and will return to file an appeal should our initial efforts to serve The Good Life next to a Bucket Oreo Blizzard fall through The Galaxy.

And the kids are gonna love Creme de Menthe sprayed into their favorite drinks, from Coca-Cola to Choc-Ola to Hawaiian Punch. My personal favorite, Grape Kool-aid, has more zing with Peach Creme de Menthe squirted in the cup.

And don’t worry, we’ve arranged with the Milford Police not to make kids take a Breathylyzer test nor walk 10 feet in a straight line. As long as they’re not behind the wheel and they’re secure in the child’s seat, the Milford Police will call it even. You wouldn’t let your kids drive your Chevy Malibu when they’re sober. Why take a chance after a couple of brewskies? Buckle ’em up and forget it. Just wipe their mouths should they spit up all over the stereo speakers.

At The Bucket, we gotcha covered. We can cut into The Warehouse share of the market while still continuing to fatten Archie and Jughead on Bucket Burgers. Pop’s Choklit Shoppe will remain an institution even if they pull Moose over for a DUI. We can overcome the technical stuff. Come see how today.

We will always serve Milford no matter what affadavits The Waehouse tries to file.”

Gang, comment away. Thank you for your patience. May God truly bless you.

BABY, BABY, WHERE DID OUR LOVE GO

“Girl, it’s goin’ straight down your throat if you flash your butt in my corneas one more time.”

April 2, 2019

How Bizarre.

Filed under: actual action, softball, What the hell is going on here? — tdrewhardin @ 4:25 pm

040219

ALL OVER THE WOOOORRRRLLLLDDDDDDD

 

WHAT??????????????? P3 isn’t ELO’s video “All Over the World” video??????????? That just sucks. And just when I was getting happy feet from all the gossiping, belly-aching, and dancing, not necessarily in that order.

 

Visited The Bucket

They fried me up a shake

I can’t brook this valley talk

It’s pneumatic and it’s fake

 

Cut the dope

Nuke this Soap

 

Sittin’ in the bleachers

Observing girls at play

Flappin’ ’bout their troubles

They’ll be scheduled any day

 

So I hope

Can we cope, can we cope, can we…….

 

Ooooooooo, Baby(Pewwww, Baby)

It’s drivin’ us crazy(it’s shit and it’s hazy)

Every time we stick around(do we have to)

Every time we stick around

Every time we stick around

We lose faith

 

And we’re STILL in a valley but if you think I’m discussing the Valley conference, I got that vacant lot behind The Bucket to sell you cheap. Don’t snicker. One of these days they’ll make a playground out of it or a soccer field. You just beat your 3rd grade homeroom rival on penalty kicks from the Milford Elementary Major Soccer League, it’s Bucket time. Time to grab a cold one. I’m talking about a Raspberry Slushee, dolts, The Bucket is still in litigation over the liquor license issue. May take a while, Sharkey’s brushing up on Real Estate Law, taking a couple of night classes at Milford Community College. One of them was Advanced Rezoning Appeals 301 but I can’t remember, been some time myself since I’ve taken the class.

Back to the topic, Jacqueline Susann would be proud of this group of gossipy girls. This Valley of the Dolls is just writing its own script. Susann can go to Milford Styling Shoppe and get her hair bleached like she’s always wanted, get her nails done at Milford Nail Salon, and get a tan at Milford Tanning Outlet and still come back in time for this San Fernando Valley to reach the epilogue. You talk about having blinders for the Redwood forest because you’re too caught up in the trees that squirrels and unicorns piss on and you plunge head first into the Pacific Ocean.

“…No, really, officer, the unicorn was wiping his butt behind that elm tree at the entrance to Golden Gate National Recreation Area. I was about to get out some Charmin and didn’t notice the San Francisco Bay. BTW, where’s my car?”

“Got a call from dispatch. They just towed it out of Alcatraz.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Throws Out His Back At Milford Shopping Mall!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Former Bill was trying to keep up with teenagers dancing to Electric Light Orchestra’s ‘All Over the World’; will have to wear a back brace for 8 weeks.”

 

I mentioned the Harlem Globetrotters a few weeks ago. And sure, they gossip just like the rest of us mortals. I bet the Boston Shamrocks do the same thing (“Boy, Meadowlark needs to do some thing about that overbite.”) . But during the GAME, I bet they throw gossip to the wind and act like PROFESSIONALS. No “Did you notice Curly changed his barber? Said the other was gay and Curly wasn’t interested?” while they’re in the free throw spaces while a Boston Shamrock is shooting a free throw to complete the 3-point play. No “That Shamrock needs to buy some Janitorial Size Oxy-5 for his butt. I can see them pimples through his shorts at the half-court line” while the Globetrotteers are breaking a press. No ” Mimi’s leavin’ Gil for Goose.” “Man, where we gonna put her? The plane’s already full.” Hell, we can sit her on Abe Saperstein’s lap. He won’t mind. She works better than jumper cables and he’s already had a stroke” while the Globetrotters are doin’ all that razzle-dazzle (lot of that going around, might want to take some Ny-quil before you go to bed) for 30 minutes, finally Meadowlark pulling the ball out of his shirt and shooting a Kareem sky hook, to the consternation of the Shamrocks who were anticipating a slam dunk.

In, short, P1 is more razzle than dazzle, leading to a commercial break about Ovaltine. Dentu-Creme pulled out as an ad last week after the plot went slower than it takes for the adhesive to stick to the gums. I guess they didn’t want false teeth on the softball field. Linda and company would be gossiping about some parent’s dentures leading into Golf in August. Can’t have that.

“Yeah, I’m so sure, I drink a quart of Ovaltine before my Synchronized Bowling match. I get more spares that way.”

“Groty to the max!!!!!!!!! I drink a liter of Faygo Wild Cherry. I rolled a 300!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Oooooooooooooookkkkkkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn has been gracious enough to help us cope with a plot getting off on the wrong foot already. Not even the Cubs could shoot themselves this much in the foot (Robmize, I was trying to hold back) . Without further ado

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought you had to have another ______________________ to Synchronized Surfboarding.”

 

Before we go ANNNNNYYYYYY further, you have to be blinder than Stevie Wonder to NOT notice Nancy Kaffer having gone through the Mr. Potato Head factory for her physical composition. And those are either earrings or she needs a flea bath BIG TIME. P2 is nice if you enjoy Mr. Potato Head attempting to rally the troops since Mimi can’t even get a simple scrimmage going without some lunkhead saying she can’t make it because that’s the weekend she has to be at the Security Council meeting at the UN to vote on expelling Easter Island from the UN due to nuclear spillage still rampant underneath those statues. Chile had to dump their load SOMEWHERE, I suppose.

 

And I was thinking that that was Ricky Ricardo in the background, playing sports for the Mudlarks when he’s not leading his band at his club but forgot those are girls; ah, but I came up with Plan B, i.e., one of the dancers in OMC’s video “How Bizarre.” Dancer and softball player, woman’s got versatility. And ears you don’t have to stick in a socket like Nancy.

 

Alone in the gymnasium

It wants of any action

Sophomore Intramurals

Was the main attraction

 

Omigod

Spare the rod, spare the rod…

 

Bought me box of Cracker Jack

While baseball’s put on hold

The prize became a Gil doll

Good Heavens, that is cold

 

Batter up

Had enough, had enough, had…

 

Ooooooooo, Baby (Hey, Baby)

It’s driving us crazy (Gil is so lazy)

 

Every time we’re pushed around (We push back)

Every time we’re pushed around (That’s a fact)

Every time we’re pushed around

We pull rank

 

“…so the mandrill asks the jackrabbit,’ do you know how to get out of South Dakota?’

And the jackrabbit answers, ‘What do I look like, a trombone player for Ricky Ricardo’s band?'”

 

“Good news, Mimi. I made my own mom laugh. And I didn’t even have to resort to Harry imitations. I’m making PROGRESS!!!!!!!!! I’ll get there. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

 

If you want to jump right into P3 and dance to “Rapper’s Delight”, be my guest. Because that’s about as much as going to get accomplished. If Mimi would take CHARGE, there’d be no need for this Mouseketeer roll call. Okay, talk about how bad the last Donald Duck cartoon was, that Donald should not have been up Daisy’s skirt, that there’s standards within the Disney world, that it wasn’t necessary for Minnie Mouse  to admit she’s been off the wagon and frequents Milford Beverage Warehouse more than she sees Mickey, but Mimi, YOU’RE THE COACH. Enough of these players-only meetings that are more players than coaches. SOMEONE’S got to direct traffic and it looks like Linda anmd Nancy are the de jure coaches. And I don’t even know Latin.

 

“Hi, this the absentte owner of The Bucket. Our establishment is getting dragged through the mud, thanks to a lot of distorted and misleading information.  Let me clear the record and say I will ALWAYS bre absentee to better serve our customers. And we are only seeking a liquor license because we feel our customers deserve a slice of the pie. Sure, Mil;ford Beverage Warehouse can serve fresh cheese cake. We just want the fork.

Gil should know better, He’s splayed out one too many times in one of our booths after mixing a Tom Collins he smuggled in The Bucket with a Lemon Lime Bucket shake. In front of his own kids, no less. Can’t he get his thrills without involving the family?

And Gil says we are stalled in litigation right now. Nothing could be further from the truth. We have hired one of the finest New York attorneys, the ones who represented the Gambino family, so we expect competent counseling to get us through the bad Bucket o’ Shrimp until Joe Sharkey graduates next Spring, Real Estate Doctorate in hand from the Clarence Darrow School of Law at Milford Community College. We’re so confident that nobody from  Cosa Nostra will shoot up the juke box that we are offering free Double Cheeseburger Combos, Swiss cheese extra, should someone come in with an Uzi and truncate Air Supply’s ‘Two Less Lonely People’.

And while we admit you can FOR NOW stock up at The Warehouse, the Milford Beverage Commission has issued a Variance and we can sell Creme de Menthe, on ice cream products only. Otis the Drunk might not be thrilled about ordering a banana split but if it’s sprinkled with Hersheys Chocalate Syrup and Tapioca Creme de Menthe, he might change his tune, especially while being lead back to his jail cell with El Dorado in his right hand and down his shirt.

Come to The Bucket today and clear up the rumors. We still sell the same things we’ve been selling to teenagers for 60 years and now we’re prepared to encounter the 21st century with new ideas, new breakthroughs and new cuisine, especially the ones you drink to while celebrating your passing the bar. We promise Sharkey won’t be on the streets all decked out. He doesn’t want to get hit by the Milford Street Sweeper. The Sopranos have given us their word.

We’re ready for change and I don’t mean Susan B. Anthonys. Are you?”

 

Comment away, Gang. I’m going to Milford Chiropractic tomorrow morning. I knew I shouldn’t have done the YMCA dance.

 

Filion’s in a nuthouse

Got to see a shrink

Has to gather sanity

Or the story’s going to sink

 

Down the john

Gotta yawn, gotta yawn, …

 

Golf is not much better

It shows when things break down

Get tired of taking Gil’s advice

Much rather pump a clown

 

From the town

Circus town, circus town…

 

Ooooooooooo, Baby (Ooooooo, Gilberto)

It’s drivin’ us crazy (This plot is so spacy)

Everytime we hit the ground (From a bomb)

Everytime we hit the ground (feels like ‘Nam)

Everytime we hit the ground

We lose face

March 28, 2019

I Never Knew “Pictures at an Exhibition” Would Appear In Milford

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IT’S THE BLOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! EVERYBODY RUN FOR IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Relax. It’s only the students at  one of the picnic tables,  gossiping about Andre Dawson when he was with the Cubs, pretty hot news among teenagers, then the conversation that’s been on the backburner after they got tired of talking about Mike Krukow’s career at Wrigley (“Gnarley, dude, he struggled with that wind blowing out”) has been taken out of the oven FINALLY that of what Molly Hatchet does in its spare time when they’re not touring New Thayer, Oakwood, Madison, Goshen, etc., with Lynyrd Skynyrd and The Charlie Daniels Band. I understand the Marshall Tucker Band practices pirouetting in water polo when they’re not on the road again.

They are so caught up in this fad we call (by their own definition, unfortunately) synchronized skating, they’re oblivious to the girl in the background that got ran over by the waffle iron.

 

Mr. Horse, trying to be a Mudlark Cafeteria Lady, having already passed the Cream Slaw Certification Test

“Nope, I don’t think these linens fit.”

 

 

I’m sorry, Gang, I’m TRYING to be nice but

“Gimme 3 steps, gimme 3 steps, Mister, and you’ll never see me no more…”

“Okay, that’s a rap. You can take your skates off.”

 

Eggo Head is just the start of a bad joke.

Gil catches Dr. Pearl in the hallway before her staff meeting

“DR. PEARL!!!!!!!!! DR. PEARL!!!!!!!!!! You know how Eggo Head burned her hair???????”

“No.”

“She forgot to use Pam while sticking her head on the pancake griddle.”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Boy, put some Aunt Jemima on them babies.

 

And the artwork coming directly from El Prado. Really, is this truly a comic strip??????? P1 is just classic Cezanne, the missing piece being “Still Life With Apples”, something not shown in P1 because Eggo Head is sitting on them while consuming a Bartlett pear and those same apples would be shown in P2 if The Blob wasn’t chowing down on them while washing it down with leftover Milford students. The Blob resembling The Everly Brothers???? Gil must have been mighty tasty.

Meanwhile, back at the NR Ranch (“non-Reality”) , I mentioned ‘Pictures at an Exhibition” the other day, a concept album based the Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky’s work of the same name, which my favorite group, Emerson, Lake, and Palmer recorded and put their personal stamp to and ran with. Getting mixed reviews because it was slightly controversial, it stood the test of time and came out a cult classic, loved by many critics. I just never thought we’d see a sample of it in today’s strip.

“The Gnome” is P1 and I think “The Great Gates of Kiev” is located somewhere where Eggo Head’s hair is parted.

The Gnome telling a joke to his baby sister, whose in the lower right hand corner. Does she need a high chair, BTW, if her caption is somewhere where Luhm could sweep it up with his janitorial-sized broom?

“Baby sister, do you know why Gil will never be Eggo Head?”

“No.”

“He’d have to find a different rake to comb his hair, plus VO5 and Pam are combustible when fried together in the skillet. Try explaining that one to the Milford Fire Marshal.”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

 

Then P2 definitely has to be “Promenade”.

I mean, The Blob executing a spaziergang (“pleaure walk” to you non-Deutscher whippersnappers) through the cafeteria after a hearty 3-course meal of Alpo, Twinkies, and students is worth the price of admission and going about as slow as this plot. Don’t get no better than that.

“Officer, The Plot’s at the Milford Bowling Alley!!!!!!!!!! It’s eating half the town!!!!!!!!!!! Strip Bowling was tonight!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

“The Devil went down to Georgia, he was looking for a soul to steal-”

“NO NO NO That’s not how the tripel axel is done, you have to do this TOGETHER. All right, let’s do it again and SMILE. Let Butch Trucks see those pearly whites.”

 

P3 is interesting. I was tempted to say “The Sage” but what wise man in a lotus position at the peak of Mt. Fuji or Mt. Everest or Mount Washington or Mount Greylock (highest point in Massachusetts, BEAUTIFUL scenery, just threw it in to get a cheap laugh when the audience is getting bored-don’t want to wind up like Gil at the Milford Comedy Club) discusses synchronized bowling????? That one crashed and burned.

So I went with my gut and Ickity Ackity Ooh, uh uh, Ickity Ackity Ooh. ee ee, uh uh, slee, uh uh slut, POOF!!!!!!!!!!! “The Curse of Baba Yaga”. As long as teenagers are going to spend more time fretting over bullfighting and Sammy Sosa’s stats (C,mon, I’ll bet Ron Santo’s contract that the sign said “Bullfighting Ring”, geez Louise) than actual sports, reduced already to an exhibition, pardon the pun, at the Ringling Brothers Circus, we are in for a long Spring and Summer until Gil hitches up with another tag team. Really, I think Gil can teach Jerry Lawler and Jeff Jarrett how to golf. They’ll be sinkin’ those putts at the Mid-South Coliseum by the end of August. The Moon Dogs won’t know what hit’ em. An eagle is more effective than the Sleeper Hold any day.

 

Day 16

Marty is butt naked, confronted with a new challenge. Someone from the Milford Zoological Society, trained in Blobology, managed to direct The Blob towards the Nature Area. Street edges lined with ice, much of it from the ice freezer out front at the Milford 7-11 and the trainer invented a new way for The Blob to stay on the Straight and Narrow. Ingenious way to keep The Blob heading in a certain direction. Can’t eat Gil’s children if his driveway is spayed with permafrost.

Marty has enough problems with the elves from Crackerbox Palace and mosquitos. Now, he and Peaches must run for their lives, knowing The Blob could suck them up in 2 seconds. Can’t go up a redwood like a cat. The Blob can climb also. For the moment, The Blob will be content with a warthog it just steamrolled and call it a night. Marty and Peaches can sleep in their tents and only have to worry about shooing away the moths. And all they have to do is blow out the lantern.

Marty on his walkie-talkie

“It’s by the pond, Marty. It took some Sominex and crashed on a dead poplar.”

“Good. Where’s Peaches?”

“Marty, you know that’s the deal. We’re not allowed to tell. In fact, that’s the first warning AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, where’s the trainer????????? I didn’t know I was a midnight snaaaaaacccccckkkkkkkk-”

“Joe? Joe?”

 

“We’ll be back after these messages.”

 

Gil, accompanied by “Nut Rocker”

 

“Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse. God almighty, wouldn’t want to be in Marty’s shoes right now, would you? Just hope The Blob stays away from the daiquiris.

But if Marty thinks he’s got problems, do I have some news for him.

Did your car get repossessed and now you have to go Milford Transit? Did you get cleaned out at the slot machines like I did because I didn’t know when to say when at the Milford Casino Lodge? How ’bout Milford Credit Union putting an estoppal on your account because you ran up a bill at Milford Plumbing Concepts and now they’re dunning you something fierce????? Shoot, I’d run up a bill too if they took 23 times to unclog that toilet in the pool room in the basement. They used that much Drano to flush out the turds, c’mon.

The point is, you shouldn’t let The Good Life get estopped because banks, credit unions, and the loan shark at the poker table isn’t bargaining in good faith. That’s why I’m proud to announce that The Warehouse and Milford Cash Advance have teamed up to help you get your favorite liquors without having to worry about Sonny Corleone knocking on your door about that overdue note.

Just give them your driver’s license, your Social, and 2 recent check stubs, yes, chain gang work release stubs are honored, and you can shop for Buds and Michs with peace of mind. Durn tootin’, Milford Cash Advance will hand you $250.00 cash with interest rates that’ll be as low as the packages of Slim Jims on the impulse-buying rack by the register. Doggone, I know I’ve got MY $250.00 in by wallet so I’m gonna go get a shopping cart by the Bud Man display up front and stock up on all the sinful stuff.

And I’ve got some Chauvignon Berry Surprise, something I’m going to keep a secret for my wife, I’ll just put in one of the gutters on my roof, to celebrate our 35th, 38th, Hell, I can’t remember, we’ve been married so long and spent a lot of time pretending to be coaches. Then I got some Sterling Classic Roast Fire Brand, guaranteed to satisfy your taste buds and burn a hole in your belly, a problem if you have ulcers, but if you’re drunk on the couch, you won’t feel a thing. And you might have to hit the bathroom stalls a lot but as long as Pee Wee Herman isn’t in there, it shouldn’t be a problem. And when the bank imposed a lien on my house after my Big Adventure at the Casinos, I snatched that 750 ml bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey right off the 3rd shelf. Ummm, ummmmm, I can drink my blues away tonight and puke in the bed if need be cuz Mimi went to her mom’s place with the kids over the weekend. They’ll be visiting Principal Ek’s boyhood home, a historical marker, “The Hut of Baba Yaga”, so I can splay on the Serta mattress like Foster Brooks.

And because The Bucket is bogged down in a legal battle with the Milford Beverage Commission over the liquor license, The Warehouse wants to kick ’em while they’re down by this great offer: Right now, until the end of the month, if you’ll buy 2 bottles of 1.75 Bacardi Superior Rum, The Warehouse will pay your March Milford Gas & Electric bill. No sense in having no lights just because Milford Interiors repossessed the divan. You shouldn’t have to use your neighbor’s water in a bucket just because there’s no electricity for the shower. Yup, they’ll help lighten the load on your bills when the deputy sheriff sends a bench warrant on your motorcycle, even if it’s your only mode of transportation to Milford Foundry. The Warehouse would rather you not pay late fees for the motorbike.

Yeah, Mr. Owner of The Bucket, when you come out of your chateau in Switzerland, wake up and smell the Apothic Red. Because your chances of selling Cook’s Brut Champagne along with a Bucket Double Cheeseburger and Fries as my recouping my losses at the roulette wheel at Milford Casino. At least I have better luck.

Come in and check out our specials and get a bill paid to boot. At Milford Beverage Warehouse, we take the load off, Fanny, and dump it on the car hops at The Bucket.”

 

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry goes to Mary Ludwig Hays McCauley, affectionately known as Molly Piutcher. Originally a gofer, like several women in the battles during the Revolutionary War, especially for water, the nickname came about when soldiers would shout “Molly!!!!Pitcher!!!!!!”, a nickname that somewhat unfortunately carried a slightly negative tag.

But Mary stepped in during the Battle of Monmouth to stoke the cannon after her husband was hit by a bullet (but survived, thankfully) and immediately boosted soldier morale with her courage in the line of fire. Serving perhaps as a good luck charm, the British retreated and really weren’t a factor for quite soem time. George Washington was so impressed (and he didn’t impress easily) that he awarded her a non-commision and was thereafter addressed as “Sergeant Hays.” Still strongly holding to her femininity, she proved a worthy soldier that helped the Continental Army win a HUGE battle when they were at a crossroads. The momentum swung in the Continentals direction, Mary palying a big part. Please join me in saluting a woman who proved that a woman could more than hold her own on the battlefield.

 

 

 

Comment away, Gang. I’m going to sneak out the back door before Robmize reads all my Cub jokes. Can someone suggest a nice apartment to hide in on Waveland Avenue?

 

Mr. Horse watching “The Blob”.

“Nope, ‘Lawrence of Arabia was much better than this B movie. Doesn’t even have Ronald Reagan when he was 80 years old to rescue the kids. I don’t think I li-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, IT’S GOT ME, WHERE’S REN AND STIMPY???????? STIMPY’S GOT AN ICEBERG STUCK UP HIS BUTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“I’m as free as a bird now, and this bird you’ll never changgggeeeee.”

I can see Peggy Fleming and her partner with the American flag draped around them in Sochi after that Gold Medal performance.

March 26, 2019

“The Sopranos? I Thought They Were The Chiffons.”

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Where are we GOING with this??????????

I’m tempted to do another chorus of Zappa’s “Valley Girl” but I didn’t want to pull a Gil and beat a dead Marty or Principal Ek, since the latter’s already dead and anyway I get a sneakin’ suspicion that that wouldn’t do justice to what’s going on at the present moment.

And to add insult injury, we are flip-flopping between Milford’s school cafeteria and Barney’s Pub and Morrison’s Cafeteria or Milford Bowling Lanes Bar ‘n’ Grill or some generic upscale eatery that Gil and Mimi have chosen to air out their grievances concerning High School Athletic Association protocol. It doesn’t do justice to work these issues of Scrimmaging Procedures within the convenience of their own offices, naw, we gotta talk about lining up the umpires and settling any contract dispute (“I can make more umpiring Dagwood’s company team and they suspend a guy 2 games plus he gets his pay docked an hour by Mr. Dithers if he gets ejected.”) while Freddy Mercury is serving them Steak Flambe Au Jus avec Mashed Potatoes ‘n’ Gravy (blanche, bien sur) and Collard Greens.

BTW, how can I tell it’s the cafeteria in P1? The cafeteria lady, should we broaden the scope and get a panoramic view would likely not be in her Jordache jeans based upon her upper wear. Looks like classic white linen only a Mudlark Cafetria Lady could appreciate and subsequently don. Our high school cafeteria ladies didn’t dare wear this haute cuisine of the school cafeteria world. Linens made by starving children in China in a sweatshop somewhere in the slums of Shanghai have heightened theimage that is the Mudlark Ccafeteria Lady. Dr. Pearl will not wear this at the Principal’s Convention in Seattle. Ms. Rizk doesn’t type sleazy stories about Marty and Peaches at Mudlark Lake in those linens. And it’s hard for me to imagine Miss Cafetreia Lady for the Gil Moment at Milford Natural Area hunting bison with Shaw and Gil. No way does she ladle Hormel Sauerbraten Hash that are in all the compartments in the cafeteria line (the 14,000 bowls of chipped Jello is probably one compartment over) while wearing Alice Kramden attire. And did you ever see Freddy Mercury in those linens shoulder a full tray of dinner plates ready to be laid down at a random table at Barney’s, the majority of the plates SPAM????????? (Hey, it’s hash in reverse) ????????????

“Enjoy your Kartoffelsalat mit Huhn Gebackt und Brotchen, ganz Vollstandig mit Mosellewein with a side order of Spam and Dorito’s Cool Ranch.”

As the horse on Ren and Stimpy would say “Nope, I don’t think I like Spam.”

 

Giving a shout-out to Bethany Bennett of Louisville, Kentucky. Though she uses a walker, you hardly notice because she’s a real go-getter. She gets up EARLY to go to work and always does so with a smile. She represents America by her her hard work and determination and her decision not to let setbacks get her down. Gang, we need more people like her. I always offer to help her get in her place of employment but she always refuses and gets in by herself, and then some. I salute you, Bethany. Give her respect, Gang. She’s earned it.

 

Then the word “family” intrigues me. Oh, brother. I really don’t want to go into Mammoth Cave but I’m bringing a flashlight if Gil is twisting my arm. Researching the word “family” while looking at cave drawings with a lantern filled with Matchlite fluid is as exciting as watching Luhm’s wax dry on the Mudlark basketball floor. Trying to sift through the plot like you were sifting through the channels of the cave with no light source being like trying to decipher Gilplots is bad enough but I’m packing plenty of Eveready batteries. And plenty of Bucket Fries. It’s a cave, the gas won’t escape, trust me.

Munching on my Bucket Livercheeseburger, I started asking myself (I’m in  a cave, remember?) , what ELSE could be going on? What would pique people’s interest while they’re plunging in the buffet table at Barney’s, discussing the Cubs’ chances for a repeat this year, or while the baseball team is spending another useless moment in the dugout, par for the course in the world of Thorpiverse in ANY sport,  before waiting their turn to practice hitting off the machine (after we’d seen Meadowlark twirl the baseball a couple of weeks ago) and then head to Rome where one of the Hardy Boys is sitting in the mezzanine level of the Colosseum, all 3 panels in different locations with one thing in common: The hot topic concerning the 3 girls whose reason for not being able to make scrimmage was non-athletic in scope. You want some more hash? Looks like the hippie lady in the background is ready to shovel it on her tray.

Then it hit me. It’s The Chiffons. Or The New Chiffons. Back for another Comeback Tour after 50+ years of singing and performing, they couldn’t make the scrimmage because they couldn’t back out of their contract. What happens when Mimi gets desperate and gives basketball the shaft, people drop out due to lack of activity. Then you start groping for players and going after the first one in the hallway. The Chiffons were stopping in Milford to ask Luhm for directions to the New Thayer Amphitheatre. Next thing you know, they’re shagging balls for Mimi. They might not get thrown to the lions, even if it is the Colosseum, but can’t blame ’em for avoiding a  nasty lawsuit over breach of contract. Mimi, you not only should plan ahead next time but you really shouldn’t impede nostalgia. They got a juke box at Barney’s don’t they? “He’s So Fine” one of the selections???? No Tchaikovsky’s “Symphony No. 5”? Case closed.

 

Now allow me a little backdrop. The record company for The Chiffons sued George Harrison of the Beatles because it argued that “My Sweet Lord” sounded too similar to “He’s So Fine”. Now, in fairness, Led Zeppelin were guilty in the first degree, “Whole Lotta Love” and “When The Levee Breaks” having been performed several decades in the past as Blues standards. Quite a few Blues musicians got a generous out-of-court settlement from the group.

But The Beatles were notorious for writing their own material. Even Ringo, not a songwriter by any stretch of the imagination, weighed in with some key contributions. And The Beatles sued ANYBODY for stealing their songs. BUT they were very generous in helping a group get started in their musical career by giving them a song. “A World Without Love” by Peter and Gordon and “Come and Get It” by Badfinger come to mind.

That in mind, they made an out-of-court settlement where George agreed to pay a certain amount and the record company representing The Chiffons agreed to let George keep playing “My Sweet Lord.” Personally opining that George or any other Beatle would NEVER plagiarize another group, I reluctantly would agree.

 

So with that in mind, Joe Friday and Bill Gannon have come to sort this out.

This is the city. Milford, USA. It has plenty of stores, schools, houses, and parks. Plenty to do in Milford. All legal. But when some truant runs afoul of the law, that’s where we come in. My name’s Friday. I carry a badge.

10:22AM. It was Tuesday in Milford. It was cold and crisp. The weatherman predicted warmer temperatures by the end of the week. We were working the International and Domestic Copyright Infringement detail. The boss is Captain Andrews.

We were transferred to Rome, Italy because there were unconfirmed reports of illegal recording and wiretapping of another man’s music, allegedly by a Milford connection. Captain Andrews handed us our flight tickets out of Milford International Airport and we were on our way across the pond.

1:45PM. We arrived in Rome and got to the Marriott di Roma ASAP. I had jet lag something fierce and Gannon ate too much airplane chicken and upchucked for 2 hours in the hotel room toilet. We didn’t call room service for 5 hours until the stench died.

7:48PM. We got in our rental car from Alamo and headed to The Colosseum. We had sent a SWAT team last week to bust an illegal lion trafficking operation, thinking the bad seed had left the building like Elvis. Elvis sounded horrible singing “Suspicious Minds” while the Christians were getting thrown to the carnivores and it had to stop. But while Elvis continued his tour in Baton Rouge, the bad seed was still in the ground.

We had to be careful. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. The New Chiffons were using The Colsseum to secretly record George Harrison’s records. Nothing was sacred. “All Things Must Pass.” “Cloud Nine.” “Somewhere in England.” You name it, they were putting it on platinum. We could have busted them right then and there for singing “Octupus’s Garden” but that was Ringo’s song. The tear gas would have to wait. We had to move fast, but slow.

9:12PM. We didn’t want the Romans and the rest of the Senate to suspect we were cops. Seneca and Cicero would tip off the 3 girls that Friday and Gannon were back in town, even if that town wasn’t built in a day. And they weren’t kidding. Just try asking a cabbie, using your Fodor’s Italian in 10 Days, Give or Take 24 Hours, for directions from Alamo to the Colosseum without having to pay toll across the Tiber.

So we scooted over to Burger King for a Whopper and Martini & Rossi. We weren’t supposed to drink on the job but you didn’t drink the water. Tasted like Lassie piss. Later, we’d sample the Thai Veggie Stir Fry Pan Pizza at Noble Roman’s which was located across the street from Vatican City. We didn’t want to blow our cover.

“Hey, Joe!!!!!!!!! Hey, Bill!!!!!!!!!”

Trouble was already in our rear-view mirror.

“Awright, punk, how’d you manage to swim across the ocean? Don’t you boys have homework?”

“My lab’s completed and not due ’til Friday and my 3-page essay on John Jay for American History has already been turned in.”

“And my Geometry class problems are completed and I got an ‘A’ for constructing the Bridge of Sighs without a compass and straightedge.”

“That’s in Venezia, you losers!!!!!!!!!! Now come clean or I’ll kick your ass straight over the Adriatic!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Those girls ARE recording Harrison’s music. We slipped security a 20 and got an earful. Man, the dude’s heavy with his religion. Should’ve heard “This is Love”. “When we use the power provided, free to everyone-”

“Cut the concert and get tot the point!!!!!!!!!!! You sound like Slim Whitman!!!!!!!!!!”

“Once they’re done cutting the record, they send it to a factory within St. Peter’s Basilica. While the Pope is holding Mass, “All Those Years Ago” and “Crackerbox Palace” are mass-produced, pardon the pun-”

Gannon steps in, keeping Friday from hitting one of the Hardy Boys with a wine bottle

“Okay, son, enough comedy. So what happened?”

“Then they ship them to places like Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore where there’s some catacombs. They wait until there’s rioting in the streets after another Papal decree, then they make their move to smuggle them to a United Airlines plane and stack ’em in the luggage portion of the plane.”

“How the Hell do they get past the Customs at the Aeroporto di Roma!!!!!!!!!! You’re gonna tell me they lug crates of records up a chute next to someone’s Samsonite of Hanes and sport coats!!!!!!!!!!”

“Simple. Some of the Customs officials are Chiffon and Beatles fans. Plenty of cash supplied from a Swiss bank account in Geneve and the crates are put on a C-130 next to arms Oliver North smuggled to Nicaragua. Just inventory to the Logistics lieutenant.”

“I vote Republican, jackass!!!!!!!!! Watch your mouth!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“The rest they store in the Papal Archbasilica di St. John Lateran. “When We Was Fab” next to a saint buried in a vault below the sanctuary is the last place la polizia would look.”

“I don’t want any advice on how a police officer, Italian or American, should conduct their investigation!!!!!!!! Now scram!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh, and you dropped your copy of the rental contract with Alamo. Better be careful, they might smuggle that and “From Behind That Locked Door”.

“GET A HAIRCUT AND GET OUT OF TOWN!!!!!!!!!!!” I’ll run you in on Milford Penal Code Article 364, Section 45, Clause 58 “Intent to Impede an Officer While Conducting International Affairs in the Line of Duty!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“You heard the man, boys. Smuggle your locks and at least get to Paris. You can miss a day of school before we nail you for truancy. BTW, how are you going to get back?”

“You never find out. Thorpiverse just zaps us there and we’re there. Kinda how Friday gets his own haircut at Milford Style Shop.”

Friday pulls out his Sig Sauer but the Hardy Boys are already zapped to Greenland.

 

A shout-out to Belinda Hawkins of Louisville, Kentucky for her courageous stance against bullying concerning her grandson, Jose. She is going to home-school him and do it her way. She worked several years in convenience stores, many of those years as an assistant manager. She KNOWS the meaning of work and can instill that into Jose. The reality is, schools are going through trying times but Belinda is leading the charge in doing something about it. Way to take the initiative, Belinda. You have my blessing to work with Jose. Never give up. You both are too smart for that. You represent America.

 

All righty then. Let’s get out of Rome and approach it from another angle. I’m thinking they indeed have a contract, but a much graver one, i.e., The Sopranos. I know Gil should step down as coach but do The Sopranos have to leave New Jersey, let alone involve 3 girls, to make their point? Why drag them into this, not to say they couldn’t flash a weapon (see “Prizzi’s Honor”) ? As macho as they were, it was hard for me to fathom  getting mixed up with the female Harlem Globetrotters.

Put in perspective. Anyone remember when Doonesbury went caustic on Frank Sinatra??? Don’t get me wrong, I love Frankie with my life but those comics of him at the gambling tables were a riot (“That’s DOCTOR Sinatra to you, Chiffons!!!!!!!!!”) . And his mob dealings were painfully obvious.

And remember Doonesbury showing Frankie posing with mafiosos in a photograph,  many of them part of a family??? The Gambinos, I’m thinkin’ but God knows. Anyway, let’s try squeezing those 3 girls  in the picture, in fact why not have them pose to the left and right of Frankie. What better way to show loyalty and respect (the mafia, remember) if P1 is going to harp on family matters? If it’s that clandestine, it’s hard for me to think they’re talking about The Brady Bunch

“Here’s the story

Of Lou Gambino

…the  lower left in curls.”

 

Besides, I don’t think the other mafiosos in the picture would mind 3 girls from Milford (family matters, right?) displaying their pearly whites along with these rough-hewns. As long as these 3 girls aren’t Corleones, of course.

For that matter, I wouldn’t be surprised if that photo got taken in the gym after practice. Perhaps Mimi doesn’t mind these thugs observing practice as long as the 3-point-circle doesn’t get dynamited.  Ehhhhhh, better not go that far. Especially when they didn’t play basketball. It was just IM’s But they still took the picture. And we got a credible explanation why there was no basketball. Priceless.

“Sonny, I thought I told you to dynamite the boys gym. I ain’t fightin’ the Gambinos in the bleachers. I’m too old for that.”

“Sorry, dad. We wired Gil’s office. The Gambinos won’t come around as long as there’s no leadership.”

“You do me honor, my son. Now order me some Bucket Linguini.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Emerson, Lake, and Palmer Estate Sues The Chiffons Over Copyright Infringement To ‘Pictures at an Exhibition!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'”

sub headline

“Estate points out that ‘Sweet Talkin’ Guy’ sounds similar to ‘The Hut of Baba Yaga.'”

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry is Marie Curie. Polish by birth, she eventually moved to Paris, partly to escape persecution, partly to encounter better opportunity. She became a professor while there and in the process discovered polonium and radium, 2 elements off the Periodic Table. Her brilliant mind and constant search for the truth through diligent research earned her the distinction of being the first person to earn a Nobel Prize in 2 different fields, Chemistry and Physics. She also fell in love with and married her lab partner, Pierre Curie, for which they enjoyed a health and productive relationship. Please join me in saluting a woman who coined the term ‘radioactivity’ and made great strides to this world by leaving iot a better place through her work.

 

Comment way, Gang. I think it’s safe that they’re not The Chiffons or that they’re not at The Colosseum in P3 with a contract out on Gil. But I’ve been wrong before.

 

11:23PM. We made our move.

“…forgetting all we have, isn’t it a pity…”

SSSSSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Cough, cough,

“Don’t shoot!!!!!!!!!!!! Don’t shoot!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“All right, Gannon, read them their rights!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Can we include the Dragnet theme on ‘Living in the Material World?'”

“You can make all the records you want where you’re going!!!!!!!!!!! Papa Bader makes plenty of ‘Abbey Road!!!!!!!!!!”

 

The Horse at The Bucket eating Bucket Fries.

“Nope, too salty. Gil sprayed ‘Afro-Sheen’ all over them. Don’t think I like ’em.”

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