This Week in Milford

October 10, 2019

I Never Get Blowtop Mad On The First Date.

Filed under: ?, football, Just plain sad, Pissy faced minor character, shadow figures, Tilden — tdrewhardin @ 7:21 am

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Chet and Charlie discuss the game with Chet at full speed singing the praises of Charlie’s game. Charlie takes the high road, thinking of the TEAM first. Don’t that beat all.

Gang, let me first off announce that those of you with kids who play sports or are thinking of playing sports, your career, win, lose, or draw, will go a lot smoother and happier if you encourage your son or daughter to put the TEAM first. He or she will be on more teams that way. You’ve helped your chances anyway.

When I was encouraging my nephew, the Chet’s of this world were the loneliest creatures on the planet. They were in a lawn chair or in the bleachers all by themselves. They were the ones who talked about how their son scored 45 points and the coach sat him on the bench. What Chet WON’T tell you is the team lost, his son allowed his man to torch him for 47 points, and he blew the lay-up that would have won the game. Chet has selective memory.

THEREFORE, don’t do what Chet is doing in P1, in other words. Chet is myopic in relation to Milford Mudlark football. Did he bring his Texas Instrument TI-30 calculator when he computed the average? I don’t know if that one has a slide rule or a metric equivalent. I’m curious to see what his yards per carry efficiency on 3rd downs was in meters. And does it have a graphing function. Chet, you better double-check to see if his stock is rising, literally. If it stalls right about when the linear function crosses the y-graph, I’d worry. Coach might bench him. The first-stringers are always in the first quadrant.

Really, where DID Chet get that info? Okay, the calculator but did he slip a steno pad past the turnstiles and after he put all his coins and handgun in the tray so the metal detector wouldn’t play the Mudlark Fight Song? Chet, as long as you were going to write facts and figures on your pad, write down another figure, when you think of it, of course: The final score.

I understand steno pads at Office Supply sell briskly on that concept.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Leads Milford Parks & Recreation Adult Flag Football League In Yards Per Catch Clutch Efficiency On Second Down With A 5.4 Greatest Common Factor!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“It woulda been higher but some safety ripped my shorts off when he grabbed the flag so they called back my TD run.”

 

Ok, kiddies, we have a special nursery rhyme that beats “3 Blind Mice” and “Jack and Jill” the way Tilden beat Milford, sneak up on you then have a sense of urgency when the script forgot to print the score up until the last 30 seconds

Chet and Charlie

Rode on their Harley

To practice at the football field

 

Gil wasn’t coaching

Kaz went poaching

Chet’s beard had lost its appeal

 

So did his overbearing demeanor but I couldn’t fit that in the nursery rhyme and couldn’t find something that rhymes with “Step-parent needs to get a life.”

 

And don’t get me wrong. Your kid has to have fun and has to enjoy the sport and that has to be the #1 priority. If you win, that goes at the bottom of the list. Sure, losing sucks and winning IS a priority but a BOTTOM priority.

That said, avoid clubhouse lawyers like Chet. Believe me, if your kid is in involved in sports, you’ll run into them. One reason why I think “Ball Four” by Jim Bouton is a waste of time is that he spends a lot of time talking about his individual performance and not about the TEAM performance. Check out the appendix in the back. It is nothing but Jim statistics which is understandable but they’re slanted so that everything’s about Jim and NOT the team. I give every book a chance. This book blew its own because if you want the TEAM to win, you really can’t have the mindset of this book. And Pete Rose, BTW, was not always popular, being a fierce competitor will do that. And a fierce competitor wouldn’t be taking greenies as alleged in the book. I don’t blame ya, Pete, for being upset.

Anyway, encourage your kid to be a TEAM player along with having fun. You might be surprised how many teams he or she makes.

 

I was fascinated by a town in Greece I read about that has survived well before the BC era to the present. Knowing that Agrippina, a public speaker in the 5th century BC who edited Pindaric odes and Aeschylus’ memoirs, came from the same town as members of Buffalo Springfield (or the equivalent, I forgot which)

Yesterday’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Remains Of Thorpolos And His Playbook, Not To Mention His Exegesis On Plato’s Rough Draft Of ‘The Republic’, Discovered While Milford Toyota Plant Works On Prius Expansion!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Milford breaks record for differential between 4 B.C., the confirmed birth of Thorpolos, according to the Anthropology Department at Milford CC, and the birth of Gil at 1958. Previous record was Dr. Pearl’s great-aunt born during the Second Crusade.”

 

Nice to see Charlie Roh doing his best Lyle Lovett impersonation. And Lyle is really the one who is the voice of reason in the present discussion. I always admired (and still do) players who take responsibility for the loss because when you lose, you ALWAYS look inward. It doesn’t do any good to play the blame game at anyone else. In sports, GOOD drives out BAD (believe me) and if you’re winning, politics does not play an overriding factor. Sure, a player’s parent may hate your guts because you’re a Cub fan (couldn’t resist, Robmize) but if people want to win, the politics are normally kept to a minimum.

Okay, that out of the way, Lyle is, take your pick,  transmogrifying into the pupal stages of The Incredible Hulk, is beset with a bad case of zits from all those Snickers he snarfed before the game, or this is a continuation of the Night Gallery segment, “Caterpillar”, and the eggs have escaped the sufferer’s ear and are currently crawling all over his face. Now some of you faint-hearted wussies are steering the easy way out by saying that Charlie, or Lyle in disguise at the Grand Ole Opry, is sweating. C’mon, in THORPIVERSE??? When was the last time sweat actually looked like sweat or they drew those players in the background so we’re not engaged in another episode of “Creature from the Black Lagoon? I bet once those shadowy lizards remove their helmets, they’ll be afflicted with baby caterpillars on their faces too.

And you can’t cheat and say that that’s Minnie Pearl with Milford Cold Cream all over her face to remove the creeping warts that are engaged in a parasite-host relationship. Charlie’s a guy, remember?

 

Chet fed Charlie

A whole lotta barley

To boost his running game

 

Charlie met trouble

When he farted in bubbles

Now his bowels won’t be the same

 

Now we get to the clinical portion of the strip. Grandpa (we think) Macy is trying to imitate Dr. Phil by spouting out terms he learned the other day watching the show while dipping his Milford IGA Restaurant Chips into the IGA Tostitos Salsa Dip.

What the Hell does he mean by “situationally mad”? “Blowtop mad”? Like us readers are supposed to know the difference. Sure, Grandpa, if Chance racks the guy’s nuts, it was because he was situationally mad because the situation, as in baseball, called for the aforementioned action because the Tilden jerk called Chance’s mom all kinds of names, unprintable on this Christian website. If the Tilden jerk said something about Gil’s mom and said she raised him to be an incompetent coach who couldn’t find the end zone even with a AAA Travelogue, well, it’s probably true but THAT’S when you get blowtop mad and blow the Tilden player’s head off with a bazooka. Gotta stick together against the enemy.

Gang, aren’t you getting situationally mad at the one-size-fits-all artwork in relation to Grandma Macy (don’t hold your breath on that one) ? The other day she was Mary Tyler Moore who was married to Rob Petrie. He couldn’t trip over the ottoman because Gil was desperate and had to use it as a blocking dummy. School budget cutbacks, y’know. Anyway, MTM got her glasses courtesy of the Buy One Get The Second One 1/2 Price (Canadian dollars accepted) . Today, she’s the female member of Fairport Convention. Yeah, groovy,  man, #53 is way out, like in Mudlarkland. A real square. Don’t let him upset you, Chance. Instant karma will run his ass over. Just look what that semi did to Booby’s friend. Booby got his.

And I think it is the neatest trick in the book for Grandpa Jones/Walton/Macy to throw his voice and let his forehead to do all the talking. The Tilden Jerk couldn’t do that out of his butt and not use Charmin. Pity.

 

If ya git pig doo-doo all over yore face cuz ya won first prize at the Hog-Callin’ portion of the Milford County Fair Pig Exhibit Expo ’19 cuz yore voice proved ta be a little too irresistable ta Miz Piggy and the rest of her Yorkshire clan, ya might be a redneck.

 

“My God, Fred!!!!!!!!!!!! Aunt Ethyl’s got a spheroid lodged in her skull!!!!!!!!! And who’s that giant out there walking off with Uncle Morton in his casket?”

“Hell with Uncle Morton!!!!!!!!! He owed me money anyway!!!!!!!!! Call The Shark!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Folks, it was a Nightmare on Elm Street until I called The Shark. Then It Was a Wonderful Life. George Bailey had real money coming in and he didn’t have to rely on angels or the Milford Civitan Club to wheel it in. We could lower our aunt and uncle 6 feet under, knowing we had money in our pockets. Joe even paid for the funeral programs at Milford Funeral Solutions. What a swell guy.”

“You heard it from Fred Snerdley. When creepy people who should not be ordering Bucket Shish Kabob from the menu, let alone walking the streets of Milford toting Gil’s grandfather, it is time to act. Tall Man may have thrown one spheroid missile too many at the Tilden Jerk, but decent people like Fred Snerdley need to be justly compensated when the Tall Man barges in on the Nude Swimming Party. Granted, Aunt Ethyl looked unsightly in her birthday suit.  What 93-year-old doesn’t? She still should have been spared the weaponry and I proved that by fighting the insurance companies when Mr. Snerdley made a claim. And the Tall Man will have to loosen his checkbook to the tune of $4, 739, 023, 912. If he can afford to carry corpses around, he’s got the money.”

“I was able to fix the cracks in the pool and clean the blood stains on the diving board. And I can put away some for my grandkids to attend Milford Community College. My grandson wants to be a sanitation engineer. The rest I put in escrow. Thanks, Shark.”

“Sounds like a happy ending to me. Get your own Flintstones happy ending, where that tuba is really blaring, and call 1-FON-THE-JAWS today. Insurance companies are hard at work hauling caskets on the Santa Fe Trail. Don’t let them beat you to Oklahoma. Get the money you deserve so you can play “Home on the Range” on your tuba in the evening. You’ll be glad you did.

 

Time to go to work, Gang. If you need me, I’ll be at the Grand Ole Opry. I want to get there early so I can get a front row seat for the Lyle Lovett concert. I understand Gil is the opening act. I thought his comedy died the way Aunt Ethyl did. Guess not.

 

Chet lectured Charlie

His hair was Bob Marley

But, Chet, my running 4 TD’s settled all bets

 

Better stay humble

You coughed up 2 fumbles

And DAMMIT QUIT CALLING ME CHET

 

At The Bucket drive-in area

“May I (swoooooshhhh) take your (swiiiiiiiiiiishhhhhhh) order?”

CRACKLE

“Uh, yeah, I’ll have the Bucket Triple Cheeseburger, no onions or pickles, an order of fries, and-what do you want?-she’ll have the Bucket Pork Rib Sandwich, extra cayenne, and a Tub o’ Bucket Buffalo Fries-)

“(swwwwoooooooshhhh, crackle crackle) Ya want somethin’ ta drink (swiiiiiiiiiiiisssshhhhhh) ?

CRACKLE

“Yeah, give us-

SCREEEEEEEEAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMM

“What’s WRONG”

“What is Coach Thorp doing, climbing out of your trunk!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“No idea. Oh, hey, Coach. Sorry about that clipping. Coach Kaz will work on it tomorr-

BOOOOOOOOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

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October 8, 2019

“…Charlie The Roh Down To The 15!!!!!! The 10!!!!! The 5!!!!! Touchdown…”

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You old-timers will remember the Happy Days episode, (I mean this one was OLD because the intro was “Rock Around The Clock” by Bill Haley & The Comets, not the “These days are ourrrrrrsssss, those Happy Days” opening”), where Richie Cunningham is working as an errand boy at this radio station and this hot shot DJ is in a dispute with the station manager over his pay. Eventually the DJ walks out, even after putting on a ridiculous showboating exhibition to prove he’s worth more money. The station manager, the same guy who played The Maytag Man in the Maytag commercials, yanks Richie from his sweeping job around the studio and puts him on the air. Of course, he’s stumbling at first, but then develops more confidence as he settles into the job. This eventually leads to his new identity, Richie the C. And, boy, he just goes to town with it. Had to have been there.
Therefore, as long as we’re going to get ridiculous and have Chance on crutches after snuffing out Godzilla when the Japanese film company should have sent Godzilla back in the ocean, cave, polar ice cap, the boys toilet at Milford Elementary, etc., we might as well introduce Charlie the Roh and display his bag of tricks. What have we got to lose? The plot’s stalling anyway.

“Oh nooooooooooo, Chance is defecting and heading over to Tod Andrews’ team!!!!!!!”
“Shit!!!!!!!!!!!! He’ll be stuck in that time warp like Tod was 30 years ago!!!!!!
Can you get the scriptwriter on the headset?”
“No, he took a personal day and is at The Bucket celebrating his grandkids’ birthday, Gil.”
“You don’t take a personal day on a coaching staff”
“Comic strip union rules, Coach.”
“DAMN. Where’s Charlie?????????”

In Gil’s personal water closet at his office
SHEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEE, What did Coach have for lunch at the cafeteria??????? No wonder why there’s no roaches. That stench works better than Raid!!!!!! Oh, well, this mop oughta get rid of some of the residue in the commode-”
ROH!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET YOUR HELMET AND BE READY TO CHECK IN!!!!!!!!!!!! ON THE DOUBLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Late one night, after Grandma Macy reads Chance a bedtime story (“Rumpelstiltsken”)

“Now go to sleep. It was just a nightmare yesterday. I don’t know why Marty would be walking the streets of Milford, carrying an open casket of Dr.Pearl’s great-grandmother. I’m sure the way you describe it, she looked like a California Raisin that had suntanned too long but let’s close ours eyes and think happpy thoughts. Like when you body-slammed #53 on USWA Wrestling Saturday morning and won the Southern Tag Title from him and Freezer Thompson. Your tag partner, Jerry Lawler, bear-hugging you should send you right back to La La Land…”

Grandma Macy turns off the light

Suddenly, by the poster of Dominique Wilkins flushing on Hank Finkel in the 1987 Playoffs

BOOOOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Ok, so Charlie the Roh and Richie the C will not have to clean out Coach Shaw’s garage. Good thing, cuz there were a lot of National Geographic’s and Penthouse’s to sort through. Charlie the Roh can concentrate on nabbing Discovery One before it heads off to Jupiter. Richie the the C can call the game whenever Marty the Moon has to take a leak behind the booth. I just hope nobody’s down below.

And Chet will enter the discussion before too long. After all, when Richie the C was bombing out because he got Coach Thorp’s hair mixed up with Waylon Jennings’ pompadour, Richie the C needed reassuring

“Ladies and gentlemen, Gil is bombing out singing ‘Luekenback, Texas. That’s WAYLON??????? Oh my goodness, I better cut to a commercial break and slash my throat. Then have a heart-to-heart talk tonight with my dad like I have for 500 episodes. You’re listening to WDIG and this is Richie the C…”

Mr. C. will be there to console Richie in his room and make sure no razor-sharp spheres will fly out of the closet.

“Honey, he’s bombing out!!!!!!!! That’s the 3rd time they’ve cut him off at the line of scrimmage!!!!!!!”
“Oh, Chet. Not to worry. Gil has the situation well in hand. Gil’s the coach, you know.”
HOT DOGS PEANUTS CRAAAAAA-CKER JACK
“Oh, Mr.Vendor, gimme a foot-long!!!!!!!!! And he’s bombing out!!!!!!!!!!!!”

If ya shoot at Dis-kuv-eree One, thinkin’ it’s a Royal Canadian Snow Goose that got sidetracked on its way to Hudson Bay and it plops in your motorboat but ya still take ‘er to the taxee-dermist anyhoo cuz ya like how it looks on yore wall in the den, mountin’ the lite bulb of Hal 9400 next ta thet jaguar ya shot with only two shells in Bolivia, ya might be a redneck.

Now that the action is hot and heavy, will somebody tell Thorpiverse that Marty Moon is not Charlie Chan incarnate? Granted, this whole damn mystery wrapped inside of an enigma is getting to bea mystery but let’s let some sunlight in Marty’s eyes. Wouldn’t want him to ruin his retinas while Charlie the Roh is rippin’ long one.

Ah, but therein lies the problem and reveals Marty’s raison d’etre. A doubting Thomas wrapped in a bitchin’ booster who draws a paycheck because he embodies 5his persona in front of a microphone. Sorta like Pat Robertson railing against Satan while pretending to be Monty Hall. Let’s Make a Deal a hybrid with The 700 Club.

“Pat, I’ll give you $500 and what’s behind Door #3 if you’ll call off the deal and give me your soul.”

Ahhhhhhhhh, I went a little off the deep end but I think you grasp the concept.

One day in Gil’s office
“Tiki, it was just a bad dream. That cafeteria pepperoni pizza has been giving everybody weird dreams. No way was Tall Man toting a casket with my wife in it out of Hooverville. And Tall Man has a restraining order from the Milford Circuit while you’re staying at the Flemings. Relax.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

“Tall Man, how many times have I got to tell you to flush???? If you’re going to use my toilet, I’d appreciate it if you’d use Renuzit Raspberry. Tired of hearin’ it from Home Ec class down the hallway. And that’s the 5th roll you’ve used up!!!!!!! How many burritos did you eat at lunch??????”

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Richie The C Forced To Eat Bucket Fried Crow After Coach Kaz Gives Thumbs Down On Show!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I wouldn’t even dance to ‘Hot for Teacher and that’s my favorite song. Play it all the time during football scrimmage. Richie the C has gotten the big head.”

Okay, so you old-timers know what I’m talking about. Fonzie gave the thumbs down after Richie the C became Richie the Gil after his rising success was causing R the G to be a jerk.

But Charlie the Roh has to hit those holes if he’s ever giing to lead the Hit Parade on the dance floor at The Bucket. Nope, can’t spin “Boogie Wonderland” by Earth Wind & Fire if you can’t turn a 3-and-2 into a 70-yard sprint the way Chance does. Learn the moves of Barry Sanders, THEN be unable to fit through the janitor’s closet at The Bucket because of your enhanced ego and not even get your grandma to dance The Charleston while Eric Clapton’s “Tangled in Love” is on the turntable. First things first.

Remember when Potsie and Richie the C tried to get into this strip joint using fake ID’s? Weellllll

As Booby and Tiki step into the Milford Beverage Warehouse, nervous as Hell, the “Phantasm” theme playing mellifluosly after Hank Williams’ “Settin’ the Woods on Fire” got the Jose Cuervo buyers going in line in checkout lane #3

“You sure the Milford Printing Shoppe said they would go over with the clerk?”
“Like we just punched out of our shift at Milford Foundry.And they said the lamination was durable. They use recycled plastic from Mudlar-K-Cola 20 oz. plastic bottles.”
“Here we go. You got your Michelob Dark?”
” Yup. Got your Jack and Harley-Davidson Full-Flavored Menthols Crush-Proof 100 L-, damn, I know the Warehouse is getting desperate for new-hires and I know their Major Medical benefits package just isn’t enou-”
BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

And if this is isn’t a set-up for the obvious. Charlie Chan virtually saying that Clark Kent should have re-entered the battle at Gettysburg because he and Daniel Sickles would have torn through Pickett’s Charge with both legs blown off while George McClellan Roh would have rested his horses. No wonder why Lincoln asked the latter “Would you tell me what this plot has done lately that has fatigued the Mudlarks or horses of ANYTHING?” Lincoln was right. Thorpiverse is an admirable engineer but it has a special talent for the stationary engine.
Chance looks pretty inert in P3.

Which affords the opportunity for Charlie the Roh to pull a Richie the C on us. That’s right, again it’s pretty obvious. Charlie the Roh will run for 2000 yards, score 30 touchdowns, then sit at the teacher’s table at the cafeteria, eat Twinkies and hamburgers and tater tots with the teachers because he thinks he’s better than his peers. The students and parents, led by The Fonz, will refuse to come to the game, won’t even dignify his arrogance with those placards written in Cyrillic (“Beat Oakwood-They’re a buncha nuts” in the Serbo-Croat cheering section, oh my) .
These last 2 panels are just expressing themselves, aren’t they?

All right, Gang. It’s all yours. I apologize, I have been on the run all day for my dad. Now I know what Chance is running, er, going through.

“Oh, Howard, he’s bombing out. Somebody needs to hold his hand and tell he’ll do better in the future. That’s no way to tell him YOU SUCK. That fan needs to pull up his britches before the Milford Police arrives.”

“Marion, Richie’s holding his own. He has the Mudlarks eating out of his hand.”

“I was talking about Coach Thorp, Howard.”

“Okay, Jaime, time to go to bed. Tomorrow, I’ll teach you how to address the ball. Turn off your tape player and go to bed.”
“Let me finish this song after I get in my Underoos, Daddy. It’s overtime.”
Gil, realizing touche when he hears it, goes to the fridge for another Schlitz

“…you be daffy and I’ll be dilly,
we’ll go have 2 bowls of chili-”

BOOOOOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

October 3, 2019

The Bully That Won’t Stay Dead.

Filed under: actual action, football, Just Plain Awesome, Tilden — tdrewhardin @ 7:41 am

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Hey, Oh boy, we’re getting into the Friday the 13th version of the plot where Jason Voorhees apparently didn’t learn his lesson and comes out of perdition, Hades, the cemetery, etc., to terrorize the Milford Mudlarks for, oh, another 15 sequels, give or take a throat-slashing of Coach Shaw or Gil’s hair being set ablaze with Match-Lite Fluid and rubbing some sticks (gotta make the terror and torture SLOW, y’know. We oughta know, we’ve been tortured observing that Everly Brothers coif for 60 years) . Doncha just love it when Freddy Krueger kicks the running back in the crotch, the Bruiser from Milford retaliates with a machete to chop off Freddy’s head, the head gets carried off the field on a stretcher, we readers thinking we’ll have FOOTBALL the rest of the game AND the season in general but, nope, Freddy returns in the 4th quarter to stop the game-winning field goal by using an ax to the kicker’s leg?

And where is Gil in all this slash-and-burning? I’ve never been one for terror movies but I know if you want SOMEONE to play the stooge who tries to in vain prevent Jason from running rampant with the knives, that stooge has to be IN THE MOVIE. It’s like Jason given free rein to hacksaw people with no restraints, no resistance. But that’s what’s happening here.

“Gil, you know #53 went after Chance’s nuts?”

“I’m sorry, I just got back from vacation. We’ll talk tomorrow. Those post cards from Cancun are priceless. And wait’ll you see the Mayan ruins. I didn’t know they had microwaves in their civilization.”

Freddy Krueger chopping up the town of Milford with no police to stop him, for 21 sequels? Only in Thorpiverse.

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Withstands Onslaught By Freddy Krueger, Uses Bucket Burgers To Satisfy Taste For Gore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I thought it was my landlord at first, but damn, I’m paid on my condo the next 3 months.”

Friday the 13th 17: The Year Jason Arises From The Mausoleum And Actually Starts Coaching!!!!!!!!!”

Girls, I’d be clinging to my boyfriend on this one.

And if it’s not bad enough that this idiot didn’t learn his lesson after being knocked for a loop, Tattoo throws the flag into P1 to signal his disapproval. Oh, I can imagine this Fantasy Island episode

“Mr. Roarke, Chance Macy has just arrived.”

“Very good, Tattoo. Show him to his quarters. I’m sure he will find his stay here most auspicious.”

“Do you still want to use that goal post we smuggled in Milford?”

“Yes, of course. And be careful that our guests do not carelessly look in on the replica of the Mudlark girls gym.”

“Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem, Mr. Roarke. Nobody went to the girls gym anyway. Nobody complained about any action while it was on the island.”

“Very well. Show Chance to the football field. We should have a REAL coach ready to lead him to the path of achievement, an accomplishment that should prove most noteworthy for Mr. Macy.”

“And if Freddy Krueger comes along and chops off Chance’s scalp in the end zone after he scores the game-winning TD, I promise to throw the flag way into Herb Woodley’s house for a late hit.”

“You are most hospitable to our guests, Tattoo.”

 

One day in the Bumstead household

DING DONG

“Dagwood!!!!!!!!!!! Someone’s at the front door!!!!!!!”

Dagwood, arising from his slumber from the couch he bought at Gil’s yard sale last year, heads to the door

“Herb!!!! What can I do for you?”

“Dagwood, is this YOURS?”

 

If ya git fined $500 by the Fish and Wildlife Offi-shul cuz ya sprayed too much buckshot into the 8-point cuz it wuz still kickin’ nd ya had ta violate the rules by shootin’ a couple of arrows when the prey was in someone’s back yard, the deer dyin’ gittin’ doused by the water sprinkler, but ya still ate the critter that night, shotgun shells and all, ya might be a redneck.

 

Now playing this week at Milford MegaCineplex

“Nightmare on Elm Street: The Year Freddy Rips Off Coach Kaz’s Earring And Wears It On His Nose For His Birthday.”

“Friday the 13th 21: Jason Throws The Flag And Decapitates Ms. Rizk While She’s Typing.”

A double feature, yeah, buddy. I understand that there’s Matinee Sunday. Bring your church program and you can watch both of these for the price of one, free bucket of popcorn included, butter extra (gotta make money somewhere, I reckon) . I know I’ll be answering the altar call this Sunday to “Just As I Am” at Milford Interdenominational Fellowship.

Now showing at the Milford VFW Post #56, Ladies Night

“Nightmare on Elm Street: Chance Finally Bludgeons Freddy With His Helmet, Charlie Roh Enters The Game”

We are about to learn about Chance’s past, given the outburst that he is inflicting on The Bully That Recurs Every Full Moon. No doubt, there’s going to be repurcussions of some kind and I wouldn’t be surprised if Roh, indeed, enters the scheme of things. If that’s the case, well, I’ve always wondered what would happen if Roh WASN’T ready while they’re reading the Tilden player’s last rites and puttin’ the cuffs on Chance, not that I blame Chance. 60 years of late hits and saying your mother is in the cell next to Papa Bader CAN build up. Now Chance know what us readers go through. Did you ever get blind-sided by the Gatorade cooler by bad plots?

Anyway

“Roh!!!!!!!!!! You’re in for Macy!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Hold on, Coach!!!!!!!!!!!! I can’t find my jock strap. It was laying on the bench SOMEWHERE.”

Or

“Where’s Gil?”

“I dunno. Last I saw him, he was in The Family Circus going to the store to buy Purina for Barfy.”

“That’s Billy’s Dolly’s Jeffy’s P.J.’s job!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We have a fourth-and-goal situation on the 1-yard line and we need to know whether to send in Roh on short yardage.”

“Hell, Chet took him to Mudlark Lake Refuge to go huntin’.”

Like coach, like player.

Anyway, tune in tomorrow, same Gil channel, same Gil time for the conclusion, or lack thereof, of this Revenge of Norman Bates.

Couldn’t he just have stabbed the Tilden player in the shower? Why wait until the game?

 

Friday the 13th 32: Gil Hacks Jason With A Poulan When Jason Attacks Mimi’s Schedule!!!!

 

“And this time, I think Freddy will leave Chance alone. Freddy is going back to the huddle, licking his wounds. Man, those blades have to be sharp. Time out is called out on the field with the score, Milford 20, Tilden 7. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

“Have you had trouble recently with Jason coming into your household? Did he skewer Grandma and Grandpa at Thanksgiving? Was Aunt Bertha a replacement for the pig at the Thorp Family Reunion, apple included?

Hello, this is Dr. Pearl for Milford Funeral Solutions and if you’re like me, you worry if Barnabas Collins can break through the coffin and arise out of Milford Generic Cemetery and start feasting at Milford High School Annual Picnic.

Let me put your fears aside as Milford Funeral Solutions has installed the latest technology to deal with any Jason that needs to sleep in the Batesville casket where he belongs. The fine people at MFS have installed Sonitrol Wiring Systems under the reposing arms of the dear departed and securely fastened them to the pillows as extra security to ensure no unnecessary resurrections will transpire and interrupt the Easter Egg Hunt at Milford Day Care. An activation switch, the Hewlett-Packard F1000, is the best in the business and guards against Jason writing his own script and terrorizing once again the streets of Milford.

And with the casket made of solid pin oak that is grown at Milford Nursery, Jason will find himself trapped by the same item that produces acorns for the animals to feed. Doesn’t it give you peace of mind knowing that Jason is up to his derriere in acorn shells and trapped by the same? The lid is then sealed by tungsten handles that only that hideous idiot from ‘Phantasm’ can open. But he’s dead too and won’t be at your next Fourth of July Fireworks Extravaganza.

Let’s face it, when my sister died during the War of the Roses, I didn’t expect for her to come looking for me with a lance. I was not going to be pierced and somebody shouting ‘Vive le Revolution!!!!!!!!’ because the MFS personnel, in conjunction with the Milford Police and Sonitrol, have coordinated efforts to prevent tragic renewals from occuring. Harry Houdini will not choke my grandchildren with a chain before the alarm goes off. Nice to know Starsky and Hutch will be at my house to send Houdini back to his tombstone.

Come see for yourself and see why Milford Funeral Solutions is #1 in customer satisfaction. Freddy Krueger will just have to go terrorize Gilligan’s Island. At Milford Funeral Solutions, the customer is always right and 6 feet under.”

Go for it, Gang. But Ruh Roh, the times, they are a-changin’.

 

LOOK de plane de plane!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Tattoo, is that Mr. Thorp and his wife AGAIN???? That’s the 7th trip in the last 6 months. We have to let the sod settle before he can fulfill his fantasy on the gridiron.”

October 1, 2019

I Think, Therefore I Cheap-shot.

Filed under: actual action, Fat Guys, football, Just Plain Awesome — tdrewhardin @ 2:24 am

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Nobody is ever going to accuse Gil of running a tight ship. When the play calls for a draw but the Tilden safety said something about the wide receiver’s mother, the Mudlark 11 can always call an audible so that the wide receiver can run a fly and run to the end zone and if he doesn’t catch the TD pass, he can at least use the goalpost stand as a turnbuckle. No, he didn’t get the game-winning score but Jerry Lawler got his Southern Tag Team Belt back that way. Coach, the Mouth of the South questioned my manhood. I had to throw him through the ropes. It’s a guy thing. You understand, of course.

Then we will also explore all the ways to conjugate “Cheap-shot.” Betcha you didn’t there are many ways to skin a cat. No really, when Descartes was expressing himself in Latin, when he wasn’t busy inventing the x-y graph, he was expanding the frontiers of our vocabulary. Just listen

Cogito, ergo Cheap-shatum

Isn’t that just mellifluous? Doesn’t that just make you wanna run to the Milford 5 & 10 and get the latest copy of Wheelock’s Latin? I understand they’re running a 2-for-1 special. Better hurry. This Latin classic and Lassie Levels Rin-Tin-Tin On The Porch is going like hot cakes. I know I’ve reserved my copy.

“Lassie, did you chase Marmaduke out of the neighborhood? I know he called you a dog.”

WOOF!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was Ruff. Where was Dennis the Menace?”

WOOF!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Over at Mr. Wilson’s house? What was he doing over there?”

WOOF!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Skinny-dipping in his pool? I didn’t know that Mr. Wilson built one in his back yard.”

WOOF!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“And Ruff said you look like you are hunching a fire hydrant every time you dog-paddle? Yeah, I guess I would have bitten his butt too. Good girl.”

 

If ya “accidentally” turn the wrong way when ya say “pull” and aim yore shotgun at a guy’s butt hangin’ outta his Levi’s instead of the clay pigeon at the Milford Con-ser-va-shun Club Turkey Shoot and ya didn’t git a 10-pound turkey with Stove-top Stuffin’ but ya went true on all his pimples in his crack cuz the dude said yore in-bred in-law needs ta settle up at the County Clerk and make it offi-shul, ya might be a redneck.

 

I used to officiate City League basketball games and one of my officiating partners, a good friend of mine, had a daughter who was married to a college basketball player. It wouldn’t be fair to tell who the coach was but the reason why this player transferred from this coach’s program, a major DI school in one of the better conferences, was because one day the coach called for a huddle and said

“Okay, gentlemen, we’re gonna run this play!!!!!!!!!”

And one of the players in the huddle calls out

“No way, go to Hell, Coach, we ain’t runnin’ that play!!!!!!!!!!”

Needless to say, this player wound up in a program where the coach was runnin’ the show.

And that’s what galls me in P1. Can’t you just SEE this one

“Okay, Guys, we got ’em where we want ’em. First-and-goal on the 2-yard line. We’re gonna do a double reverse left. We’ve run that play on Tilden for 60 years and they still haven’t figured it out yet.”

Gabe Salazar, adjusting his jock strap, getting the fleas out of his butt

“NAW, COACH, Go to Hell!!!!!!!!!! You’re just a sorry-ass comic-strip coach anyway. We’re doin’ an off-tackle right cuz the Tilden guys have a bunch of wienies, according to the on-going script anyway, and one of ’em said we only play teams that’d show up on The Brady Bunch!!!!!!!!!! I’m gonna level Greg Brady into the next county!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Mudlarks Win On Last-Second Field Goal!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I told Coach Kaz that if we pulled off that slant left one more time that we were going to meet behind the dumpster.”

 

And really, this whole conjugation thing, Latin or no Latin, wouldn’t have transpired if the Tilden player had just shut his mouth. But Gang, look at it as an opportunity. They haven’t shut their traps in 60 years anyway and if people want the strip to continue, do you REALLY expect the Tilden nose tackle to invite all the Mudlarks over for tea at the nose tackle’s abode? It might never happen (not really) but I entertained the notion because Tiki didn’t have a place for tea for a while. Hard to fellowship over Earl Grey in Hooverville.

ANYWAY, let’s explore the conjugation of cheap-shot when you decline it in the future pluperfect indicative

I will have had cheap-shotted Steve Luhm because he forgot again to put toilet paper rolls in the Port-o-Lets at the game. It was no fun using my football program to wipe.

You will have had cheap-shotted Luhm because he could have at least emptied the containers. the stench had reached Tilden.

He will have had cheap-shotted the refs when the Tilden player cheap-shotted Chance Macy and the refs cheap-shotted Coach Thorp with a 15-yard unsportsmanlike penalty.

We will have had cheap-shotted this plot by shifting our attention to Nancy and Sluggo.

They will have had cheap-shotted Coach Shaw for going on another sabbatical when Chance Macy is hitting his stride. This will not have had cheap-shotted any surprise but for once you’d like Coach Shaw to be there for the Championship ceremonies.

 

And as long as Gabe “Coach de facto” Salazar is wearing the headset because Gil wiped his butt with his own cuz Luhm forgot to install Charmin, could we have had at least cheap-shotted (i.e., removed)  those Lego blocks that shine at the most inopportune time? Nothing is more annoying than watching one of the players take charge when those rays of Toys ‘R’ Us are beaming on Mutiny on the Bounty. I am a horrible artist (my niece is the one that can draw, trust me, several exhibits along the Esplanade in our city attests to that) but, damn, I can draw a square with circles in it and draw rays (A line emanating from one point in a particular direction infinitely, in case you forgot your geometry) in all directions from that square full of circles. If this particular figure ever shows up at the Transfiguration, I’m changing Bibles.

And then we get to the gerundive case. Perfect (pardon the pun) for what’s happening in P3 (Gabe will have had humped the Tilden player on the 1-yard line.) . Heck, the verb in its proper form has already been supplied, all you have to do is fill in the details.

I am cheap-shotting this abysmal plot and anticipating basketball in the future indicative, er, future.

You are cheap-shotting Gabe and telling him STFU and be respecting his elders (2 for the price of one) .

He is cheap-shotting Gil’s hair. It is in dire need of Prell this time, not VO5.

We are cheap-shotting Mimi because all she does is have verandah chats and coach 5-game basketball seasons.

They are cheap-shotting the girls basketball season because there WAS no season last year. Mimi felt cheap-shotted (hey, bending the rules here) .

 

“And Gabe really took a shot here. Man, things got ugly pretty fast. I know Gil calls his plays out of the comic section but this is ridiculous. We’ll take a break as the Milford General EMT goes to go get the stretcher. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

“Honeyyyyyyyyyy, I bought you something!!!!!!!!!! It’ll make things more fun at night!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Coach Shaw is buried in his Second Year Latin book trying to conjugate the Latin word for “cheap-shot” in the imperative case

“Okay, here we go ‘Cheap-shoterum urbe Romularum” Man, that’s a funny way to say “Nuke the city of Rome” but if ya wanna learn the language, ya take the good with the bad. I learned that when I was ditching and coaching the team. Now let’s see here, ‘Caesar Augustus cheap-shotat Hannibaleris Montonae Capitolae Anno Domini-”

“Honey, let’s learn Latin another time and let’s learn how to have a good time.”

“Just when I was gettin’ to the part where the verb ‘to fiddle” was declined? I’m still having trouble with the accusative case. Let’s see, ‘A flunky cheap-shotted Nero with his violin-”

“Put the book in the Saturday Evening Post rack and take this pill and this glass of water.”

“Man, it looks like a Contac. Woman, I ain’t got no snot up my nose. What are you tryin’ to do, put me to sleep so you can catch my significant other off guard? Have sex while I’m in La La Land?”

“Just try it and see what happens. I didn’t just want to give you pills like these other sex clinics. Once you swallow this one, there’s a time-release that’s supposed to really get you aroused.”

“Woman, you tried doing that with Flintstones Chewables and I wound up worse than a kid eatin’ Twinkies. I was bouncin’ off the walls for 3 days and I was still flatter than a pancake. What makes you think THIS will work?”

“Honey, just try it. FOR ME?”

“Oh, all right.”

 

“OMG. Whatever they got out of Milford Creek got me goin’ like Jumpin’ Jack Flash. I’d never gotten so horny in all my life. It just hit me like a ton of bricks and next thing you know we were having sex just about anywhere. You name it, we were doin’ it. It was a little tight at the top of the Statue of Liberty but visitation was slow so we managed. Bribing security helped. And we had to watch the piranhas in the Amazon but we stayed near the shallow waters, no problem.

Yes, you men should take the cue and special-order these tablets that’ll get you higher than Gil’s hair. And with the coupon that you should be getting in the mail anyday now, that’s even more of a reason to conquer your erectile problems once and for all. Conquering that and your woman never felt so good. Get your own time-release from Milford Men’s Clinic and you can pump your woman and watch for sharks in the ocean too. Greatest feeling in the world. Check it out at The Clinic today. You’ll be glad you did.”

 

All right, Gang. Cheap-shot away. I still gotta do some more work on the genitive case. Hmmmmmm “The Cheap-shottedness of Gil Thorp’s grandma…”

 

“We will cheap-shot the fish by the river, they will cheap-shot the thugs under the bridge…”

“Gil, come to bed.”

September 26, 2019

“Did You See Him With Shades On And Carrying A Bottle Of Jack Out Of Milford Beverage Warehouse?” “I Did.”

Filed under: big arms, Coach Kaz, exposition comics, Gil Thorp, Milford Weirdos, song parody — tdrewhardin @ 1:11 pm

092619

Down in the dumpy, roach-infested digs

We’d roll and fall in green

You wore a beehive like this Spalding pigskin

Too much Sassoon, too pepper-gray

 

Why don’t you leave me

So I can possess the game

I hated you, I loved football too

 

Bad calls in the night

Coach told me I was going to lose the fight

Leave behind my

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse Heights

 

Coach Thorp, it’s me, I’m legal age

I’ve passed the physical, I’m still eligible

Let me in the game

 

Coach Thorp, it’s me, I’m etc., etc., etc.,

 

Gang, I apologize, I had this one wrapped up for Christmas but a personal matter turned up and like Grandma Macy, she was was hard to bounce out on the street so I had to find her bifocals which we FINALLY tracked down under the cushion of the couch along with the remote we’ve been searching for for several months. Thank God we weren’t trying to find her dentures. Under the seat slobbering on the channel function? Yuck.

Anyhoo, Today’s post includes a performer I have always admired. Her music is electric and scintillating and really gets in me. But I grew up on Alice Cooper, no problem. I grew up on Black Sabbath, in particular, Ozzy Osbourne, no problem. I lived to tell about it every time I played “Children of the Grave”, the lead-in “Embroyo”, if you want to get greedy, off of “Master of Reality”. I grew up on Frank Zappa and Captain Beefheart, no problem.

NONE of these performers have scared the shit out of me the way Kate Bush does. She has an eerie presence that works and adds the touch to her music that really sends me. One night at 2:00AM, I was reading an article on her that I had to put down, her photographs were THAT frightening. But that’s what also makes it appealing for me and will add, in my opinion, the punch to this plotline that is enigmatic and starting to limp after a strong start at the Milford Marathon. God, I hate to see what happens at Heartbreak Hill. Kate will be there to deliver the death blow, trust me.

 

At the 26 mile mark, situated at the beveled loading dock at Milford Foundry

“Gil, want some Gatorade? You look like you could use some.”

“Hell, no. I can suck it a few more yards. I’ll have my picture with my family proudly beside me.”

“That’s nice, but the photographer went home for the night.”

 

If ya gotta pass the ‘rithmatic Final by studyin’ the multi-plik-a-shun tables ’til the rooster crows early mornin’ so yuz can FINALLY pass 3rd grade and be eligible as a redshirt freshman for the junior varsity football team and ya FINALLY got 9 x 9 cuh-rehct by placin’ 9 monkey wrenches on the hood one way and 9 the other way, pointin’ towards the dice in the rear-view mirror, ya might be a redneck.

 

P1 is scary but if Thorpiverse thinks it’s going to get to Chance singing “The Red Shoes”, I think we better stick with Kate, thank you very much. We are led to believe that Chance is the second coming of Ted Bundy, about to chop up Grandma Macy with a Ginsu knife once he gets off the team bus, unbeknownst to the kids sitting behind him, talking about girls, football, what’s available online at The Bucket (“Let’s order that Bucket Tunaburger again. It’s got tuna wild-caught out of Mudlark Lake.” “HOLD ON. My phone ain’t working.”) .

And what sucks, We were getting used to Chet being an asshole and tolerating his inchoate methods for dealing with his stepson and his potential football talent or dealing with Coach Thorp and his coaching in absentia and still putting a product on the field. Aren’t you getting vertigo jumping from Stiff-Necked Lout to Norman Bates about to turn Grandma Bates into sawdust? Like Robert Frost, I prefer the Road Less Confusing. But I know a lot of you aren’t into “Fire and Ice”. Diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks.

STILL, once the only player who hasn’t been carded at Milford Lounge gets off the bus, I would like a little stability here. It’s time to get back to normalcy. So the League of Nations was a bad concept and now we’re going to have to endure every man for himself. But, Hell, we’ve had plenty of practice watching Chet at football games. Talk about grandstanding in the name of your own ego. His son better make the NFL and make this damn thing worth it, is all I can say.

 

Oooohhh, game gets close, it gets chippy

On the other side from you

I bitch a lot. I whine a lot

Wish I got ‘Dad’ from you

 

Don’t let Dreher back, Chuck

Cruel Macy, my one blot

My only other running back

 

Too long, Chance is in the play

Charlie’s coming in on second down, to put it right

He’s rolling right to

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse Heights

 

Charlie, it’s me, I’m obnoxious

I’ve read the pattern, I’m a pro at this

Let me call the plays

 

Charlie, it’s me, I’m etc., etc., etc.,

 

Well, did you think the lyric was going to be “I’m a Good Samaritan, I believe in sportsmanship, shake the hand of your opponent when you lose, Charlie”? Hell, we could end the football plot RIGHT NOW and take a sneak preview into basketball. But noooooooooo, Chet’s gotta be an asshole for about 2 more months before we schedule the Billy Graham Crusade at Milford Outdoor Amphitheater. Can’t have Chet answering the altar call before October. Ooops, I forgot, we still have Ted Bundy and his grandma. But you can only chop her up 31 ways if that plot lasts until Halloween. Better to drag this jalopy all the way to the finish line. Jughead Jones will be there at Heartbreak Hill with a Radio Flyer full of Bucket Burgers.

 

Oh, come on, coaches. In P2, we are subjected to a conversation a bit on the unrealistic side. I was only kidding about Chance being compared to Ted Bundy. They aren’t.

As long as we’re going to be ostentatious about weightlifting and hoist something your average senior citizen with his or her yearly pass at the Milford Athletic Club could jerk up and down without Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em head serving as a spotter, why don’t we at least get real. I have dealt with, either in Babe Ruth or at the private school I coached, SEVERAL players who were short on conversation. That didn’t make them Lizzie Borden. As long as they showed up ready to play and listen, giving me 110%, I really didn’t care if they weren’t much for words.

Now don’t get me wrong. I think it’s in every coach’s best interest to establish an excellent relationship or at least a workable rapport with your players as long as you’re in the same dugout or on the bench.  I can honestly say that I could get players to crash through a wall for me as long as I treated them with RESPECT (Notice big case letters) . The players were GREAT to me and they made me who I am. They took the wins, I took the losses.

But common sense rules the day. If Chance doesn’t have a meat cleaver in his locker, I think it’s safe to say that his grandma will sleep another night. 2541 will enter another halcyon period since it’s hard for me to imagine Silent Chance attacking his grandma with his Boy Scout knife out of his drawer.

Time to hit the sauna, Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Head.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Cleared On Rape Charges In Grandma Macy’s Living Unit!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Judge Ito knows me better than that. I wouldn’t touch her with gloves on or off.”

 

Then in P3, Coach Kaz is really sweating it out, either from bench-pressing the 25-pound weight (allowing for 5 pounds on the bar) or the agony of cerebralizing whether they’re harboring someone who’s old enough to file for Social Security benefits. Heavy-duty mental loads like this can be hell on the last rep, we know, Coach Kaz. Gil is there with a Handi-Wipe.

BTW, how do they know all this unless they were riding on the bus THEMSELVES? And, okay, if they didn’t ride in the Coach’s Limo (So THAT’S where Thorp keeps his golf clubs in the summer when he’s not not-coaching during the school year) , or in a separate bus which some schools do if the team is carrying a lot of players (i.e., Sophomore bus, Freshman bus, etc.) , and they indeed rode with Ted Bundy and his arguably subversive, slightly dangerous demeanor, what were they doing, observing the entire bus ride back to Milford? And not celebrating with the rest of the team? Concern is one thing. Stretching the storyline so it makes the half hour slot without having to fill in with another Toyota Corolla or Breeze Detergent commercial is another. The silver lining to the latter might be I’d get a towel out of the box when I’m dumping detergent in the washing machine with the “rinse” letters barely legible at the Milford Laundromat to wash my tube socks but that’s about it.

But us Thorpiverse veterans are used to Rubber-Band Man scenarios. Stretch away, Coaches.

 

“And that just about wraps up the Milford Marathon here at the finish line here by the Wacky Water Slide here at Mudlark Lake. Jerry Pulver Jr. wins the event in a record 2:27:16. Coach Thorp and Coach are yet to be accounted for. I understand they got lost by the drawbridge by The Bucket. They had to wait ’til the Milford & Oakwood frigate finally got its orders. That gives me an opportunity to take a station break. This ius Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG-Radio, a division of Learfield Sports.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Go away!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m training for the Milford Marathon!!!!!!!!!!”

“Honey, it’s 2:37 in the morning. And why are you training in the bathroom in the basement?”

“I gotta stay mentally strong. You can’t have any lapses in concentration when you’re chuggin’ for 26 miles.”

“Darling, I can give you that extra boost if you’ll give me a chance. Now come to bed with me.”

“Mrs. Shaw, you don’t understand. I have to be at my peak performance. That’s why I’m drinkin’ all these Nutrament Dutch Chocolate shakes. There’s plenty more behind the Pennzoil 10W-30 bottles here in the closet.”

“Aren’t there linens in there too? Where’d you put those?

“Blubba blubba, you’d be surprised how many Holiday Inn towels can cover a case full of Nutrament French Vanilla and Bar’s Leaks. Why it’s a match made in Heaven. And you can’t have any dissension when you’re at Heartbreak Hill. I’ll be sprintin’ like Jesse Owens if I got the Nutrament Black Cherry Special Blend wrapped up out of view.”

“And I don’t EVER remember your buying running shoes.”

“Ickity ackity oop, uh uh, I bought some cross trainers at a yard sale. Kid ran ’em in the Milford High School X-Country meets. Still got some high school invitationals left. I’ll be runnin’ like the wind at mile 15.”

“I just hope the crowd doesn’t notice the wimpy thing between your legs by then. Hard to hide that one with a Holiday Inn towel, My Love.”

 

“What could I say? She had me and she knew it and I knew it. It was time to take the towels back to Holiday Inn and pay the $7.00 Missing Merchandise Fee, then head down to Milford Men’s Clinic to deal with MY OWN missing merchandise. With treatment programs that work, my significant other came out of hiding and none too soon. I won my age division at the Milford Marathon thanks to the sprints I won in bed. Boy, it’s nice when you can pump your arms and your significant other simultaneously. My wife sure as hell agreed. But don’t take my word for it. Run on down to Milford Men’s Clinic and win your own age bracket. There’s plenty of ribbons to be won there. Come and claim your own Blue Ribbon. You’ll be glad you did.

 

Gang, thanks for your patience. I can only pass it along BUT I WILL. Y’all mean the world to me.

 

Ooohhhh, let him have it

Let Charlie take the game away

Oooohhhh, let him have it

Let Chance slice Granny away

You know it’s Gil, Cathy

 

Chet, it’s me, I’m concerned

I’ve come home, you’re so frazzled

Let Charlie, though fumbling, through the window

 

Chet, it’s me, I’m cornered

Etc., etc., etc.,

 

What are Gil and Kaz doing, pumping iron in Thorpiverse Heights? I hope they have plenty of Off!

Well done, Kate.

 

 

 

September 24, 2019

…Wasn’t The Last Time Milford Properties Said We Had To Be Out By The First.

Filed under: Chunky Bracelets, Coach Kaz, What the hell is going on here? — tdrewhardin @ 7:36 am

092419

I’m livin’ with Grandma

We’re splittin’ the rent

It’s best to tolerate the toilet seat slop

Or it’s sleep in a tent

2541

Big windows to let in the sun

2541

Richie Rich poster’s caught in the sun

Ooooooookkkkkk, Grant Hart aside(RIP, Big Guy, you touched MANY people), we know two things 1) Chance Macy reads Hardy Boys Mysteries (“The Clue to Gil’s Safe Deposit Box at Milford Federal”) when he’s not on the gridiron chewing up yardage and running over his opponents 2) Dr. Pearl’s sister lost it all in The Depression and is forced to live with family, the other option Milford Soup Kitchen Ministries and a bed at Milford Temporary Hostel, Inc. I didn’t think Chance was related to Grandma Moses. We would have seen “Winter Scene at Mudlark Lake” rather than Captain America on the wall.

And yet another diversion, just as we were getting used to Sharp Dressed Man performing in his role as Obnoxious Oaf in relation to his stepson’s football career, at least at Milford. And if we want to be efficient about this, why don’t we call a truce and say that if Chance’s parents won’t make Grandma Macy sleep next to the Snapper Riding Mower out in the garage and let her bed down in the basement of Chet’s abode, Chet can go to football games in attire from Milford Men’s Wearhouse, acting like a baboon when Gil calls a pass on 3-and-2. I understand Chet has a nice bar down below. Grandma Macy can get drunk and, well, you Jimmy Buffett fans know what I mean.

“GODDAMIT, THORP, THAT’S THE THIRD TIME YOU’VE CALLED THAT SHORT ROUTE!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY STEPSON CAN SHOVE THAT NOSE TACKLE OUT OF THE WAY ON SHORT YARDAGE!!!!!!!!!”

“Sir, you mind? There’s kids playing over by the press box.”

Big shout-out to Greg Simmons over at Shreves Engines in St. Louis, Missouri. He has been a very loyal customer for years and has weathered a lot of storms to keep his end of things at Shreves more than thriving. Every time I come there, the business is humming and hopping. He gets things done either as the boss man or when he does it himself. Last week, he got a truck unloaded then did business with me in a matter of minutes. Sounds like Small Business America gettin’ it done to me. His crew has always been the best to me as a pleasant bonus. I salute you, Greg. You da Man.

Support Small Business, Gang. It makes America run.

 

If ya splat a poster on th’ wall that shows Cap’n America battlin’ the aliens, warmongers, Huns, Visigoths, Vikings, Vietcong, Nazis, Siberians, Sandanistas, Martians, Jacobins, Seljuk Turks, Dravidians, Tuscanites, and the charter membership from the Milford Bridge Club and he’s haulin’ his shield around to saw ’em all in two and blastin’ the rest with his ray gun that he hangs on his gun rack in his pickup while his Fruit of the Looms are stickin’ out proud as a peacock in the heat of the action, ya might be a redneck.

 

Hair wrapped in curlers

Downed my Haley’s M-O

Waitin’ for my grandson to come home

And brag how many yards did he go

 

2541

Big windows to let in the sun

2541

Big sunbeams shinin’ on his toy gun

 

Okay. I could bite and get REAL sarcastic here and just jump on Grandma Macy’s comment about fame in P1. But let’s explore the possibilities, you know, solve problems, not fight them. This, after all, is a comedy blog, not the Demarcation Zone. We live to see another day without warfare in the rearview mirror.

“How’s fame treating you, Big Boy?”

“Well, I had to hire an agent to talk with Gil. I needed SOMEBODY to talk some sense into Coach T. 30 carries wasn’t enough and I wasn’t going to be no blocking back for Luke Bunkin when he ran that double reverse sweep. Sacrificial lamb is not in my vocabulary. Then I had to hire a bodyguard to stave off all the groupies at Milford High School. Hey, I almost flunked my Organic Chemistry exam getting mobbed by the sophomore girls in one of the M.C. Escher hallways. Then I had to hire a press agent after Milford Men’s Clinic called for the 15th time. Like I have erectile issues. Where’s Coach Shaw when you need him? He always leaves after suicides. Otherwise, I’m just a normal kid. I poop like everybody else.”

“I always knew you’d turn out to be a good boy. Want some Swiss Miss?”

 

I love it when I can get to the heart of the matter with no bloodshed, don’t you?

 

After we get all touchy-feely in P2 and the dust has settled, it has been driving me crazy while I sip on my Chock Full o’ Nuts Natural Blend coffee and try to place the face of the person who has clearly age-progressed. I’m talking about the woman, you ninnies. Didja think I was insinuating that Chance had age-progressed from Pop Warner League?

Misunderstanding out of the way, I think it is safe to say that Velma Dinkley has retired from crime-fighting and ferreting out criminals in caves and barns and silos that surround Milford with Shaggy and Scooby and the rest (Fred and Daphne replacing Professor and Mary Ann in those wheels in the opening credits of Gilligan’s Island) and come to retire in her grandson’s abode. Isn’t this just the storyline tailor-made somewhere in March for a happy ending? Naturally, we’ll have to slog through the rest of the soap opera with Chet “Call Me ‘Dad”, Dammit” Baker and Charlie “Get Off My Case, Dad” Roh, the football season that MIGHT utilize all 3 panels for action down the road (Wouldn’t THAT be a change of pace) , the 5-game season that Mimi teaches as a character-builder to her female hoopsters (“We might be filler while Gil has to convince Jaquan he is NOT a member of the team, but we KICKED GOSHEN’S ASS”) , the Super Bowl and Valentine’s Day but if it leads to more tender moments like between Chance and Velma, by gum, I’m all for it. Just keep your dentures in place, Velma, when you kiss out of mutual respect.

 

Now the ball game is over (guitar struttin’ each line down the pipe in this sequence except last line)

Grandma’s hair in a bun

Totino’s Supreme in the oven

At 2541

 

Because I will never know how Muldraugh, Kentucky, the only town in Kentucky COMPLETELY surrounded by Fort Knox, has EVER withstood a bomb that went awry in the firing range, even with all that land. I mean, someone could have pull the trigger when the soldier was drunk, right? The Dairy Queen has never endured a wayward A-Bomb?

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Moving To The Other End Of Town After Missile Barely Misses His Condo And Obliterates The Furniture From Evicted Tenants!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I’m movin’ close by Cochrane’s place. I need some legal advice on my pension plus he’s nowhere near Camp Mudlark.”

 

We move from the Macy household section of the tour and continue our our Era of Good Feelings in P3. Now wouldn’t it be just like Thorpiverse to ruin the Botticelli landscape by inserting Chet when Charlie was just beginning to have fun playing football? And Coach Kaz needs a pick-me-up after the inexplicable cryptic tete-a-tete he had with Gil and his talking hand the other day. I wouldn’t be surprised if there is some lingering bad vibes from that conversation and I’d be pissed too if I was basically blown off after asking a legitimate question. What’s wrong with Chance’s bio nestled in the Milford Enquirer between “I Saw Elvis At The Drive-Thru Picking Up His Medicine At Milford Apothecary!!!!!!!!!!!!!” and “‘Beer Drinking Is Good For You’, A Study At Milford Community College Confirms.”? Gil needs to get off his high hand and take a chill pill. And quit chewing his nails. That talking hand is down to nubs.

So keep Chet out of the conversation and let Gil’s hand get surgically removed. As Allen Neuharth, the great CEO of USA Today once said “Keep your good people on top and keep your bean counters on tap.” Stay in the stands and drink your Mr. Pibb and shut up, in other words, Chet. Stick to insurance and hand-purging.

 

Granny’s not into fist bumps

She’s privy to hugs

And it won’t be the last time we’ll ever compare Chet

To a roomful of bugs

 

2541

Big windows to let in the sun

2541

Here’s hopin’ Charlie’s havin’ some fun

 

254111111111111111……

 

Big shout-out to Danielle Harpe (Harpy) who does a great job at Cash Saver in Edwardsville, Indiana. She was very courteous and professional in her job, something us customers always appreciate. As a cashier, she got me out the door before you know it. I could tell she knew her job well, able to steer customers to where they needed to go and she was able to answer any question I had about pricing. Sounds like someone who represents America, Gang. Give her a salute the next time you shop there. She’s earned it.

 

“And Charlie Roh gives the friendly fist bump to Coach Shaw after Coach Shaw and Charlie have both performed. And that gives me an opportunity to call a station break. You’re listening to Marty Moon on WDIG-Radio, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

“Hi, this is Dr. Pearl. Don’t you think my sister is giving an Oscar-winning rendition? We were both actresses in the school play. As a matter of fact, we were in the play before ‘Our American Cousin”, the fateful show where Lincoln was shot. I will never forget hearing the ambulance coming for ol’ Abe. My sister and I had to hold back the tears.

So how does my sister keep plugging away after all these centuries and still make it to the john well into the millenium? Hugging her grandson and keeping that sleeper hold on him but not enough to dog-hunch him until he goes to bed?

The good people at Bristol-Myers have came up with a cold cream, Acid-Gel that does wonders on the lower limbs. Simply apply a dab to the kneecap and ACL’s are a thing of the past. That’s important because she could have used that when she was a Flapper Girl trying to impress John Barrymore but her knees gave out doing the Charleston. And when her tendinitis was acting up, she needed more than prune juice to move her legs properly. She lost her job as Rosie the Riveter that way and had to go back on welfare. Knowing you weren’t contributing to the war effort while munching on Shredded Wheat from food stamps can be a crusher. And when her toe nail polish won’t wash away, Acid-Gel is right there so embarrassing Revlon stains won’t appear in the carpet. Erase your mistakes and hug ’em tighter when they score the winning touchdown, I’ve always said.

But you too can get this wondrous cream that solves a multitude of sins. You can order it online at http://www.acidgelhelpsoldgeezers.com or call 1-888-GEL-HELP. AND it will be available at Milford Apothecary and Mudlark Orthodontics come this October. It takes a little time to clear tariff regulations.

What have you got to lose except pain in your legs? I wish I’d had some when I was on the playground with Grover Cleveland. He could be a bully. Come try some today and never feel old again. Now it belongs to the ages.

 

Comment away, Gang. I’m going to hug Granny Clampett just as soon as she gets done boiling my jowl bacon ‘n’ chicken gizzards. We all need incentive. Like Wilt Chamberlain once said when a reporter asked if he could jump to a chandelier in the building, Wilt replied

“No, but if you throw a $100 dollar bill up there, I bet I learn real fast!!!!”

Motivation, baby.

 

“He could have topped the century mark in rushing if you’d left him in the game. I know you didn’t want to run up the score-”

“Chet, come to bed.”

September 12, 2019

Mudlarks Are Forced To Punt It Away To The Script.

Filed under: actual action, football, freak hands, Just plain sad, Milford Idiots, Oakwood — tdrewhardin @ 11:37 am

091219

Now the Oakwood Mighty Cashews look a little awkward, doing that Sha Na Na routine, one Cashew humpin’ another, but if it’ll stuff the run and give them a shot to right the ship before time runs out, ya do what gotta do.

The consolation prize is the melange of tacklers and blockers and the poor schmuck running with the ball DOES resemble tackling and blocking. No 15-leg octopus stepping off the UFO with several 7-legged Martians and their fiancees. If the earth is going to be taken over by Kanamits, it’s comforting to know they cannibalize earthlings with only 2 appendages.

But we were understandably antsy about Charlie Roh’s kismet, his having fumbled once earlier in the game that occurred 2 months ago. Labor Day is when Gil gave Roh a bear hug and told Charlie “when the going gets tough the tough get going.” But remember, Gil cussed him out over the same faux pas around Guy Fawkes Day. Tear their ass down  when they goof but hug ’em tighter later on, especially when the game’s on the line. Sounds like good coaching is the order of the day here.

Come to Fuel Mart in Austin, Indiana where they will give you the great service that’s a given around their neck of the woods. Savannah and Helen run a super operation, the customers at a steady flow whenever I walk in. Gang, THAT’S busy. And that’s because they have great goodies, from hot dogs and frankfurters on the grill to SEVERAL snacks, from potato chips to cheese puffs, candy bars to snack cakes by the BOATLOAD. And don’t forget the sandwiches. Nor the colas, another plentiful quantity. Add in great gas at great prices and I don’t wonder why they are busy as bees. I also wish to give shoutouts to Daelyn and Roberta, 2 ladies who have been there for several years and treat you like you want to be treated. I have seen Daelyn for several years and she has ALWAYS been professional in her dealings with the customer, plus she can get things in order because she knows the store and knows hows to get it done. Roberta has been there for 18 years and I congratulate her because she has been dedicated to the business and she does so with a smile. She also knows the inner workings of the store and knows also how to solve knotty problems. Ladies, they don’t pay you enough. I salute you.

Support Small Business, Gang. Come to the neighborhood where fellowship and food and fuel all go hand in hand.

Did you see this coming

Was it all so obvious

Charlie was stuffed

But the ball was conspicuous

You don’t have to be a genius to know this reeks

Don’t need the DNA test to plug the leaks

Charlie hopes are sinking fast

His talents are poorly cast

C’mon, admit it, everybody in the Western Hemisphere and the Island Nation of Fiji thought that Charlie was going to do something stupid with the ball, the Miracle at the Meadowlands replayed or, to keep quoting Yogi, “deja vu all over again.” And I’ll admit and I daresay the vast majority were thinking he would fumble the ball a second time which would be a logical choice, were this to be an answer on the multiple choice portion of the exam.  Let’s look at the other choices

B) He did a Flubber and ran all the way to the end zone where he was so caught up in the Medfield crowd that he smashed into one of the goal posts, coughs up the ball, and the Rutland Cashew runs the other way for a score, they kick the extra point, the game winds up being a sister-kisser and he gets amnesia and thinks he is taking over for Darren McBride as Milford’s quarterback in the next game after McBride’s A-Fib flares up again

C) He does a Forrest Gump and runs PARALLEL with the 50-yard line all the way out of the stadium and is found later on Mt. Everest after the Hillary Expedition finds the football in some sherpa’s tent. Milford goes on to win as there were spare footballs in Coach Shaw’s pick-up, right below his gun rack

D) With one Rutland Cashew to beat, Charlie kicks the poor free safety in the nuts, subsequently getting penalized half the distance to the goal line THE OTHER WAY, prompting Gil to remind the Flubber referee of the proper ruling, that it’s defined under personal foul, according to Valley Conference Comments on the Rules, therefore should only be assessed 25 yards. The game is played under protest, to be played at when the game started, the date sometime in December just after Gil’s party.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Rioting On The Streets Of Milford After Protest Parade Fails To Settle Issue On Roh’s Fate.”

sub headline

“Roh on indefinite house arrest at the Fleming household after 2nd fumble causes comic strip to lose its charter.”

Did you see this coming

Was Chet obvious

Belching his ire

Contempt for Gil conspicuous

You don’t have to wear your glasses to see what’s new

You don’t have to look again to catch Chet’s spew

Charlie’s mom, hanging her head

Wishing that she were dead

And I realize that there are people out there who are nice people off the field who turn into bug-eyed fanatics wondering why their kid isn’t the next Jordan when the gun goes off or the ball is tapped. Now, in fairness, if you haven’t seen family play sports, you couldn’t possibly understand how easy it is to judge until YOU ARE THE ONE WATCHING YOUR KID PLAY. And I’ll admit that I got overly excited when I first started out but I asked a ton of questions and got better at the game, literally and figuratively.

That said, P2 is just utterly ridiculous. Last month, he was the Sharp Dressed Man and acted the part. Hadley Victor Victoria might have headed out of Dodge with the brass ring but I admired Chet because his points were valid and very well-taken. Today, or tonight, in a star-studded sky that looks like Mr. and Mrs. Roh are watching their kid play sports in one of those tiny jars that you get a Christmas time that spread the sprinkles and stars every which way when you flip it upside down, ad nauseum, Chet is reaching Pro Wrestling Bad Guy status. Sure, unfortunately, the sad reality is there are parents like Chet that get that way.

But Chet is getting melodramatic here. It’s getting to the point where if the trombone player in the Milford Marching Band misses a note on “The Horse”, it’s Gil’s fault, he didn’t prep the player to grease the slide before pre-game warm-ups. Or if the P.A. announcer mispronounces the Rutland player as “Shitter” rather than “Sheeter” when the player originated from German lineage during the Bismarck era and therefore carries the surname “Schitter”, Chet is blaming Gil because he didn’t hand the announcer a media guide or Fodor’s “Milford in 10 Days”. Miracle at the Meadowlands? Gil should have called a time out before the Eagle could make it to the end zone.

And Chet’s wife’s body language says it all. She is dejected, either because Roh got stopped and couldn’t make mama proud or she is embarrassed for Chet’s boorish behavior. Likely a combo of the two. Or maybe the concession stand taco salad loaded too much ostrich beef. Definite Rolaids Moment.

If ya want the other kid on the other fishing team at Mudlark Lake disqualified and yore own kid on his team to grab the trophy cuz yore boy caught 184 walleye and the boy on the other team caught a hammerhead shark, a blatant violation of the rules cuz it’s a foreign object that ain’t got no business in the water, even though it were a fate d’komplait cuz the other kid done it with a Popeel Pocket Fisherman, ya might be a redneck.

And aside from Chet making a jackass of himself, something I’m led to believe will be the norm in the next 2-3 months (Now if he blames Coach T. on Valentines Day because Charlie should have been looking the Russell Stover Dark Chocolates in the tuck, Chet should check in at Milford Psychiatric Associates) , why does Thorpiverse ALWAYS show some kid, adult, Martian, tweener, wheelchair-bound personality from the nursing ho,e out to get some fresh air and take in a game, etc., SMILING or in general having that Stimpy face every time Milford runs into misfortune?

“Milford fumbles!!!!!!!!!!!! Oakwood runs it the other way and scores!!!!!!!!! Oakwood wins!!!!!!!!!!! Oakwood wins!!!!!!!!!!! This is Harry Caray…”

HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY

HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY

HAPPY HAPPY…

 

But it’s nice to see Beetle Bailey weigh in and soak in the sights. Snorkel must have given him a 3-day pass.

 

Robmize, you know I’ll never change. I’ve tried.

 

Okay, Gene Rayburn is here to restore things to order here on Match Game 2019. Without further ado, you got the floor, Gene

“Dumb Dora was soooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), she thought that Charlie _______________ the ball when Oakwood got it back.”

Did you see this coming

Was the bull shit obvious

Out of his butt

His butthead’s conspicuous

You don’t have to be ahead to cheer your team

Your son doesn’t have to be Montana for him to beam

Mama’s raising lots of cane

Cuz Chet’s just a stinkass pain

And Mama Roh is getting off the mat after Chet Drago insists on making a royal donkey of himself. Good for her. I get the feeling she will be the one who keeps Charlie level-headed when Chet never gets the hint that he should stick to insurance and let Gil do the coaching. Uhhhhhhhh, well, you get the idea. Gil might not be doing any coaching, like he hasn’t in God-knows-when but he’s still an expert in his field. That’s what’s important. If the bus driver crashes the Greyhound into a utility pole because he was too busy on the cell phone with friends but still has his CDL, he’s covered.

Still waiting on the outcome from Mama Roh’s encouragement. Don’t choke on this one, Thorpiverse. All the free throw lines are 15 feet from the basket.

“Will Oakwood tie things or can Milford hang on? We’ll know in a moment. We’ll take a station break with the score, Milford, 14, Oakwood, 7. This is Marty Moon on WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

“You know, when my house blew down after some PLO terrorist sailed through town on their way to a convention, we had issues with our house after they set off one bomb too many. We couldn’t possibly invite guests over next week for pot luck supper, let alone use the verandah, except for a fortress should those terrorists return.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Mudlark Brick and Masonry. The good people there were understanding after having been bombed themselves when some of the Japanese took a detour from Pearl Harbor and somehow located Milford in the Rand McNally. The shag carpeting was ruined.

We had cracks in the flagstone brick after shards went all over the lawn. It was hard to get any privacy. Did you ever try to take a dump when Coach Shaw and the kids are on their Sunday afternoon stroll down the street? But Mudlark Brick and Masonry showed me ways to plug those gaps with the finest brick-repairing materials you could lay your trowel on. With the finest Bedford, Indiana limestone, the kind that built the Empire State Building, it gives me and my family piece of mind that the shower stall was once going to The Big Apple as a foundation for the Chrysler Building.

Walls bowing in? Yup, that was a problem but these experts have faced adversity and a Japanese howitzer so they yelled “Tora! Tora! Tora!” when they saw our cupboards in the kitchen about to cave in. Gypsum never looked any better and gave a nice touch to the Lazy Susan containing all our Kashi cereals. We could lean the Amana stove against the wall and the gypsum walls would keep the stove from landing on top of the refrigerator magnets. Did you ever try to cook Shake and Bake in a 3-quart saucepan with your ice cube tray floating in with the chicken breasts? Thank God these pros knew what they were doing.

And how ’bout uneven concrete? Hey, bombs will mess up the promenade leading from the verandah to the bird bath and feeder at the end of our yard. Mudlark Brick and Masonry redesigned the sidewalk so we wouldn’t get vertigo trying to walk with a sack of bird seed on our shoulders. You know how concrete can make you do the 50-yard hurdles if you don’t implement preventive medicine. Concrete mixed well like a baby formula from the cement mixer was the perfect tonic.

But don’t take my word for it. Come in today and see for yourself. If you’ve been victimized by aliens who like to do joy rides on your driveway with their UFO’s and mess up the masonry all around the household, why reach for your Uzi when Milford Brick and Masonry will take most insurance plans? Come on in and check out your own florr plans and tell ’em Coach Thorp and the Milford Neighborhood Vigilante Associates sent ya.”

Go at it, Gang. Chet ought to be done by the time all the stars and dust in the jar settles.

“…I’m not superstitious or even religious, I just want things so true

I’m not worried about things, Gil, they’ll take me away from YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU.”

September 10, 2019

The Plot Is Marching Deep Into Enemy Territory. Maybe It’ll Reach The Red Zone.

Filed under: actual action, football, Just Plain Awesome, Oakwood — tdrewhardin @ 9:03 am

091019

Now I didn’t say it was going to score. Thorpiverse could run into a goal-line stance. Yup, just when we think Joe Montana has engineered the drive that’ll win the Super Bowl, we could experience a reversal of fortune

“Montana sees Rice in the end zone, for the Championship, Montana throws, Rice ha-”

MARY HARTMAN, MARY HARTMAN.

Well, it was fun while it lasted. Joe kept the chains going anyway. And it was smart for Jerry Rice to step out of bounds to kill the clock. That kept The Drive going. I’ll just have to watch it on tape delay after the local news tonight. I think the plot does do reruns.

If I do stay up late, do I want to see that Late Abstractionist footwear again? Thorpiverse apparently forgot to bring his cleats so he went to the locker room to get out his Red Ball specials. Didn’t they wear those items in “Son of Flubber?” They were able to jump over the goal post in that game, as I recall. They could get to the concession stand in one bounce and Coach Thorp would never know. Why run an end around when you could run like a flea on a fly pattern. Just throw to that Oreo sky, I’ll catch the damn thing.

Well, at least the centipede today in P1 has all its legs. Normally, there’s a foot or two missing when we’re engineering the plot, or the football, forward. This time, shoild they score, the good news is, the Mudlarks will have all their appendages attached and I mean, in the proper order. No Toy Story job,  i.e., hand going in the shoulder socket where the collarbone is as a rule located. The hamstring will be right side up. Pectoralis major will be a pectoralis major, not flashing a facade as your tibia.

What about the other team? Will they have their fibula in its right mind? Hey, in this business, you worry about your own problems. I’ll let Coach Andrews worry about how to shoehorn somebody’s humerus and ulna bone out of that Oakwood free safety’s butt.

 

Come to Jeff Smith Marathon and say hello to Bre and Crystal who run the place professionally and with a smile. They are getting a HUGE shoutout because they treat the customer like a king and keep the place humming in the bargain. Sounds like service to me. Heck, the customers in the waiting room were in a great conversation with the ladies, that’s how much of a rapport they have with customers and the public in general. Factor in great mechanics where the parking area is ALWAYS full(gotta hand it to ’em, they’re BUSY), great gas at great prices, and you have a winner for a business. Take Exit 118 off I-64 in Indiana, follow Indiana 62 West until you see the FIRST road to your left and you are THERE(across the road from Edwardsville UMC).

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

 

And it appears that Mudlarks are finding the seams in Oakwood’s defense and moving forward in their quest for a score. It may have taken 6-7 panels for Milford’s offensive coordinator to make the adjustments but looky here, in P1 they made it to the 9/10 line. Toldja they’d run a screen out right. Caught the O’wood outside linebacker napping.

 

Because I’m a little overwhelmed after reading some travel magazine article saying we, the general public, would be surprised at what country leads the world in the divorce rate, myself laying money on Papua New Guinea because Christie Brinkley may be foxy-looking but being cooped up with her on an island 24/7 and looking at coconuts and monkeys in trees as your summer social in the South Pacific might not as appealing as what is being stated in the travel brochure

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Leads The Valley Conference In Marriage Annulments Granted, According To The Milford Municipal Clerk’s Office!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Coach Andrews: ‘I kept telling the reporter “My wife and I are still together!” The Ward and June arrangement was just a stopgap until they took the stitches out from my hernia surgery!!!!'”

 

And P2 gets a little more funkier in the artwork. In P1, shoes were the only issue but the Dadaist Movement has extended itself just a little bit more. And it works.

It’s art worthy of Guggenheim when the quarterback is handing off the Wonder Bread loaf, or faking the French bread and making it LOOK like the fullback is going to rip the sideline with the pumpernickel safely tucked in his bicep.

Speaking of biceps, isn’t it amazing how the quarterback has been pumping iron to fill his right arm with a generous supply of muscle, unclear why he left his left arm so that he’d have to use pour Liquid Drano down his wrist later on to remove the nasty clog.

And again, we THINK this is a fake, sneaking a peek into P3. Mr. Pentagon Head in the background might know, he’s really wrapped up in this cliffhanger. I hope he doesn’t fall out of the stadium, the structure is leaning over again after Milford Disposal dumped another wad under the bleachers. And that sign!!!!! You’d hate to lose it just because the Leaning Tower of Pisa finally gave out and overlapped onto the field. It’d be hell on goal post repairs and the sign might be lost forever. What other comic strip has cheesy generic placards? Should have done some pre-planning, Thorpivsrse.

If ya march yore trailer down Main Street in Milford and ya had ta have the Milford Police, Milford Sheriff’s Department, Milford Reserve Guard, Milford Horse Brigade, Milford Elementary School Patrol Boys, Milford Air National Unit, Milford VFW Post Retired Guard, Local 234, and the Canadian Mounties serve as escorts while yore runnin’ all the red lights, stop signs, yield signs, and the School Zone speed limit warnings, just so ya could make it to the Milford Luxury Estates Trailer Park b’fore they shut the gate at 8:00PM, ya might be a redneck.

3 and 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WE ARE MAKING PROGRESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I remember when I was in school and we would cheer on our high school football team with the war cry

FIRST AND TEN!!!!!!!!!!! DO IT AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!

FIRST AND TEN!!!!!!!!!!! DO IT AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!

FIRST AND ETC., ETC., ETC.

I’m confident I don’t need to repeat myself ad infinitum. Anyway, this is how I feel HERE. The plot is going to keep churning up the yardage and ram it down Oakwood’s throat. Man, those Walnuts don’t stand a chance. Just remember, Milford, look the ball in the tuck, don’t grab the nose tackle’s leg when you’re blocking and no unnecessary chances. We don’t need heroes. No long bombs at the 16-yard line. If you’re thinking of going deep in the 18th row where the marching band is playing, forget it. No calling for the ball by the tuba.

Let Pissy Face do his Texas Line Dance while the quarterback executes a fake draw. Those fans sitting in the splotchy staircase that’s leaning over the county line will never know what hit ’em. Neither will Oakwood. That’ll teach Coach Andrews to bolt on Gil when there was normalcy returned to the plot. You’re going to run into shitty plots whether you’re in Milford, New Thayer, Oakwood, Amsterdam, Havana, Rio, etc., Coach Andrews. Serves you right.

 

And I tell you what, Gang, I just get excited when I read that Alex Trebek holds the Guinness Book of World Records for hosting the most game show segments, 6,829, outdueling, yes, you guessed it, Bob “I moderated the Lincoln-Douglas Debates when I was a college student, majoring in Frontier Broadcast Journalism” Barker. Now I know that Barker did “Milford or Consequences” back  in the ’60’s-early ’70’s and he did a lot of shows so I’m thinking this is a dubious record. After all, the show was shot in the gym and that gets very little usage, the plot spending much more time divided between “Romper Room” and “Another World”. Studio audience in the bleachers? And they’re saying pre-historic Barker didn’t host beaucoup shows where they SHOULD be shooting free throws with the game on the line? Are you serious?

 

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O. J. Openly Questions Trebek’s Duration; Will Have Cochran Research The Issue InThe Archives At Milford Public Library!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I KNOW that dude didn’t do better than Wink Martindale. Wink had to have hosted over 7,000 shows of ‘Dialing for Mudlarks’. Ol’ Wink’s a legend here in Milford. Picks up the tab every time at Milford Lounge.”

 

THEY’RE RUNNING THE FLUBBER PLAY IN P3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Mudlarks want Oakwood to THINK Biff Hawk Schuring is throwing a pigskin but in reality it’s a fake reverse; Tiki Jensen is inflated with Flubber and has the football crammed up his butt, hidden by the overly inflated uniform. I sniffed it out because the referee was a dead giveaway. He’s the great-grandson of Alan Carney, the referee in the “Son of Flubber” game. He just grew a Fu Manchu so that Oakwood wouldn’t notice (“Hey, wasn’t that the guy who signaled a field goal when Biff kicked that 98-yarder?”) . Plus, the atmosphere in Milford Planetarium and Observatory can wreak havoc when you’re trying to read the play; some of the stars on the cardboard cast a poor perspective on Tiki Flubber so he can just float the last 20 yards untouched. Otherwise, you can see Venus in the sky if you squint.

 

ALL RIGHT, FIRST UNIT BACK IN AND FORGET YOUR MANNERS. WE AIN’T LETTIN’ THE MUDLARKS AND THE REST OF THE FLUBBERS BACK IN THE GAME!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Coach Andrews, it’s 7-7, 4th quarter.”

 

“The game is knotted at 7 apiece but Milford threatens to score. They’re 2nd and goal and Coach T. wants to call a time out to talk things over. We’ll head to a commercial break. This is Marty Moon and you’re tuned into WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

“You know, there are legends and there are LEGENDS. That’s why when I heard that the Guinness Brothers didn’t give Wink Martindale proper respect after he had hosted Milford Bingo Busters (“If ya yell ‘BINGO, you’re BUSTED”) for as long as Marty Moon’s goatee grew from peach fuzz to GQ celebrity statues, we were just a little perturbed here at Milford Beverage Warehouse. Hi, this is Coach Thorp and I wasn’t going to let Mr. and Mrs. Guinness get away with murder, that’s why WDIG is happy to announce the Wink Martindale Marathon, starting this Sunday at 5:00PM, Mudlark Standard Time and will show all of Wink’s memories from beginning to end, 24 hours a day until Wednesday, sponsored by Milford Beverage Warehouse and Milford Sewer Department. Didn’t you get a chill when you were downin’ your Early Times Bourbon Whiskey, $24.99 a bottle, when the contestant decided to go for it? The odds weren’t  favoring the peanut landing on B 24, but that’s why I’m an absentee coach and Wink’s a true star who has his star on the Milford Walk of Fame. Wink told the contestant to go for the gusto, you only go around once in life, and it paid off, the jackpot totaling $35 million. Wink shouldn’t have slobbered on the guy but that’s Wink.

How ’bout kickin’ back with your Evan Williams Hard Cider, $120 a case and kibbitzing while the judges try to decide on a ruling on whether the peanut that landed on N 19 should count, just because it bounced off Wink’s hair? Pretty sure that the judgment ruled in the contestant’s favor on the condition that half his winnings go to Milford Charities Bureau. Wink was all about fair play.

And I remember coming home late one night, half soused, and poppin’ the remote and seeing a tape delay of the show, swipin’ a Bud Dark Burn Lite from the 24-pack on the coffee table, that I bought for $40.99. Thank God I had my Visa Magic Milford Beverage Warehouse Platinum handy cuz I lost the damn thing under the couch. But Wink was in rare form, chastising a couple of contestants after they tried to sneak in Q45 and Z 75. Like Wink couldn’t spell. BINQO? Puh-lease.

And this week, as a special bonus to stoke up the competition for the 6th Annual Frisbee Golf Competition here at the Warehouse, there’s a challenging route, par 4, dog leg left, where your frisbee has to negotiate over the pile of Milford Beer Nuts in the middle of the floor. Talk about a sand trap. Then you have to position yourself to knock the covers off Wink’s bed in a cardboard cut-out showing him sleeping with the assistant female producer of the show. I may not like the concept but sometimes you gotta play the game if you want to host a first-rate operation. It was either that or take Eubanks’ place on the “Newleywed Game” and I couldn’t see him trying to get a couple to stop fighting over their disagreement on where they vacationed in Finland.

It’s all right here at Milford Beverage Warehouse. And have your sleeping bag ready this Sunday where you can go back to the good ol’ days and sip a cold Coors while enjoying the Marathon. Come down and get your TV bill of fare and tell ’em Wink and Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

All right, Gang. It’s all yours. I hope Ned Brainerd used the right amount of  Flubber this time; the last time, Tiki ran into his flying Model T and both landed on top of The Bucket.

 

“Do you know how to make a dead baby float?”

Gil and Mimi are clueless

BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

“Oh, Coach, I’m sorry, it’s 2 scoops of dead babies and a Bucket Root Beer. Well, since you couldn’t tell the Truth AND you live in Milford, you’ll have to pay the Consequences…”

 

 

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