This Week in Milford

July 9, 2019

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch.

Filed under: ?, Milford Weirdos — tdrewhardin @ 6:06 am

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Oh, look. Family time at the Jansen household. Time to kick back, enjoy the Gerber Crushed Carrot Cake Mush Souffle Mama Jansen concocted and set out in one of the bowls. You sure she didn’t get Lassie’s bowl confused with the Turnip Surprise, well, never mind.

And before we go any further, don’t you get this sickly feeling that The Jetsons, er, Jansens(I was wondering why we didn’t see a space vehicle parked in the living room) is just a way to take up space in the next 2 months until The Football Chronicles returns for its 61st season in September? Better hurry and get your tickets before theater prices increase.

As a few TWIMers have mentioned, wasn’t this already said and done? Yes, Tiki could stay even though he was a legal resident in another city. As long as he had a venue to lay his head at night and didn’t languish in Hooverville, he could stay in Rockville. He didn’t have to worry about going back to Rockville cuz he was already there.

But that’s when Thorpiverse and the Milford School Board knocked heads on this one (not literally, though I wonder) and decided that the golf plot had run its course. So they rummaged the phone book for any more plot characters and once they hit a snag at Milford Pest Control (Where Termites and Golf Are a Dead Issue) and Mudlark Swimming Pool Supply, they said “What the heck, the Jansens weren’t going to Disney World or the Grand Canyon or anywhere else on vacation, why don’t we tear up that agreement we had with them and throw it in the fireplace at the Milford Moose Lodge and create another living nightmare worth 2 months of Bates Motel drama? We can kill off Norman Bates at the end of the summer by Tiki shooting him with a BB gun in self-defense and dumping his body in Mudlark Lake. It oughta sink to the bottom by the time Tiki turns in his physical for football. Then we won’t have to worry about extricating ourselves from another messy, convoluted golf plot. Just make sure you pass enough $20 bills under the table to the School Board at the meeting, Thorpiverse. The sooner the School Board can fire off that railroad job of a letter to the Jansens, the better. And you don’t want to cut into the 2 months that is getting shorter even as I text. Hurry before the mailman arrives.

And it’s time to play NAME THAT BOWL!!!!!!!!! And now, here’s your host WINK!!!!!!!!!!!!! MARTINDALE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KING OF THE GAME-SHOW-BEFORE-COSBY-HOUR-APPEARS-AT-8:00PM(OR 7:00PM, CENTRAL STANDARD TIME)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now the bowl in the middle has to be some creature Dr. Spock speared on some planet in the constellation Orion. Those are the leftovers. And the one at the far end where the Invisible Man is seated is more than likely the azalea bush Mama Jansen yanked out of the ground with the backhoe and after offering the table d’hote to Mr. Ed, it became a part of the Public Domain. Surely someone has a rapaciousness for true organic cuisine. And you didn’t need to spray it down with DDT, Mama Jansen kept it in the oven at 475 degrees and, Hell, set it and forget it. It’ll get debugged the old-fashioned way.

Then there’s the mystery bowl. This could range from a huge porcelain container of Spaghetti O’s (how many cans did Mama Jansen buy at Milford Kroger? 10 for 10?) to a Betty Crocker Bundt Coffee Cake. Yup, better keep a lid on the latter. You be bitchin’ about the Milford School Board makin’ Tiki finally pay up all his parking fines in the Student Section at Milford High School or he’ll be takin’ the next train out of Rockville, through Petticoat Junction all the way back to his original residence in New Thayer and next thing you know, the Duncan Hines Coconut Supreme White Chocolate Torte got stale. Okay, Papa Jansen, you’re gonna call Hadley Ventura for a possible lawsuit (really, isn’t this script just writing itself? Is this how Mr. Ed got on the air?) but, damn it, put the lid back on the bowl when you’re done scooping your 3rd helping of Chef Boy-ar-Dee Mini Ravioli.

“Willllllbbbuurrr, would you paassssssss that bowl of tater tottttttttttttssssssssss?”

“Ed, you know that’s not in the script. The producer will get mad.”

“Neither is Coach Thhhooooooorrrppppppp coming overrrrrrrrr after Mimiiiiiiiiiiii burneddddddd the hard-boilllllleedddddd eggggssssssssss but sometimmmeesssssss ya gotta immpppppprrrrrrroooooooovise.”

Then there’s the bowl arrangement

I think this was the French Defense Opening employed by Jose Capablanca against Paul Morphy in an International Chess Federation-sanctioned match, before they went to the number system to indicate moves (e.g., k-e2, b(c1)-f4ch, etc.) . No, don’t even go there, Gang. Nothing to do with Bobby Fischer. He always started out P-K4 (p-e4, if you want to be iconclastic) . Notice the bowl of jimson weeds in the way. Unless that’s his opponent, then his opponent can always go en passant if Bobby dares move his bowl of hash browns 2 spaces but I think his opponent is contemplating bowl of Rice Krispies-KB6ch, K-E2, bowl of Stove Top Stuffing-E6mate. I read that pinning combination in one of Irving Chernev’s books. Or maybe it was Bruce Pandolfini.

Come to think of it, Capablanca might be using an  Indian Opening Variation. I just wish the Invisible Man would return from the bathroom. How long has he been in there? Is he that constipated? Chickweed will do that, I reckon.

And then we come to the part where we discuss Tiki’s hair. A Rug Rat variation replete with a skunk’s hide and a poor excuse for dreadlocks (E for effort, Tiki) hanging from it is about as tacky as Rug Rats was. Oh, I loved the cartoon but let’s not confuse it with “Wait ’til Your Father Gets Home.”

“Irma, do you realize how much it’s going to cost to move back to New Thayer?”

“Oh, Harry, we’ll manage. We’re cartoon veterans. We’ve seen worse strips in Buzz Sawyer. Remember when he found out that Roscoe Sweeney had come out of the closet?”

“I don’t blame you, Harry Boyle. I heard there’s more Commie spies per capita on any typical block in New Thayer than the whole city of Milford. You gotta watch ’em. Me and my vigilante group spotted an Iron & Sickle on a Slushee machine at a New Thayer 7-11 when we stopped to get gas.”

“Ralph, you keep out of this. Go give Coach Thorp pointers on his golf game. I heard Stalin was his caddy.”

 

If ya dump deer meat gizzards on the chinet paper plate cuz ya don’t want ta ruin good deer meat that ya shot in yore back yard by dumpin’ the contents in a Louis XIV porcelain bowl that ya bought at a yard sale last week and ya’d ruther suffer from Chinet breath, ya might be a redneck.

Oh, damn, I forgot about the OXO cups on the table. Definite Sicilian Defense, fer sure.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Defeated At Milford Chess Open By Invisible Man!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“”That dude employs the Caro Kann Defense and I fall for it everytime. Karpov killed me  at the Oakwood All-Comers Invitational.

 

Lordy, then there’s P2. Somebody needs to instruct Thorpiverse on the proper technique for hair coloring and/or light and shadow. Papa Jansen is passable, Ward Cleaver misapplying Grecian Formula at worst but, damn, you sure Tiki didn’t spill the bowl of Spaghetti O’s on his head? Thank we’ll probably never know as I didn’t see the colorized version. Groty to the max. There’s only so much I can take from a character who’s regurgitating the past but if he shows up in the hallways at Milford High School, he runs the risk of being stuck with the sobriquet Oreo Head.

And what could be causing Oreo Head to deserve this dubious appellation? Surely there’s not a strobe light flickering by the Stove Top Chicken Stroganof bowl or the chinet platter full of celery w/pimento cheese.

“Hey, you got pimento cheese in my cookies!!!!!!!!”

“And you got cookies in my pimento cheese!!!!!!!!!!

And to think.

 

WHAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Quick!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Call 1-FON-THE-JAWS!!!!!!!!!! Then call 9-1-1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Somebody just got decapitated!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“When accidents happen, isn’t it nice to have piece of mind when you call The Shark? Hi, I’m Joe Sharkey and I make sure people get the money they deserve.”

“I was in The Bucket drive-thru ordering a Bucket Chimichanga when a drunk driver slammed into us from behind, thinking he was at the Milford Beverage Warehouse and hoping to make it before it closed.

Thank God for The Shark. I got my head sewn back on, I got my back pay and lost wages from lost time at work. The drunk driver’s lawyer even picked up the tab on the Bucket Chimichanga which splatted all over the glove box. And he made sure I got mild sauce instead of the fire brand sauce to pour all over my replacement Chimichanga. Thanks, Shark.”

“You heard it from my clients. Insurance companies are working hard and past the time The Bucket closes to present a winning case. Don’t let them cheat you out of the money you deserve. Call The Shark today!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

The Baxendales are going conservative here. Definite Ruy Lopez. And they kept all the pawns covered. Let’s not let the Crock Pot of Sara Lee Apple Cobbler get cold while we’re discussing our options on the remaining years in the NBA. Talking about free agency and one of the teams whose offer intrigues you over a pot of lukewarm Fazoli’s fettucini that you got cuz The Bucket was out of it just doesn’t wash in the scheme of things.

And who knows what Morthead will do? The Bulls would be a good choice. He could hope they draft another Pippen and they can start their own 3-peat or 4-peat, etc. People with that intimidating Bull on their caps and “I Like Morthead” on their shirts, no wonder why Mr. Baxendale broaches the subject. Over Boone’s Farm Premium, no less. Oh, BTW, pass the Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls, Mr. Baxendale. And you might want to be careful leaving that platter of Oscar Meyer Fried Bologna exposed to the rook. No sense in getting smothered mate by one of the Boone’s Farm glasses.

Gang, I don’t know about you but that frickin’ quill that Thomas Jefferson used to sign at the signing of the Declaration of Independence just looks bad on Hadley Venison’s head. As long as we’re going to throw around NBA Lingo like Jerry Lawler used to throw Freezer Thompson around in the ring, can Hadley Venom give VO5 a try?

And whattup with the discussion of the NBA? I don’t think Air Jordan is showing up at the Baxendales next week for scones and tea. Steve Kerr does not have one of his vehicles parked in their garage. Luc Longley does not call long distance from Australia asking Hadley Vermouth how it went at the orthodontist. Nice try, Thorpiverse. This is just a diversion until we get to the real meat of the issue, Hadley Verkampfen battling Clarence Darrow at the Milford Municipal Court over where to attend school.

 

“Mr. Darrow, he should be able to teach evolutuion at Milford too!!!!!!!!!!!’

I’m sensing an oncoming Battle Royale.

 

Comment away, Gang. I think I can checkmate Mr. Baxendale once I queen my Paul Newman’s Ranch Dressing bottle. The King is dead.

 

“Hey Oreo Head!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You got Star-Kist Tuna in my Chips Ahoy!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Sorry, Charlie, but only the finest tuna-chocolate ship goulash gets to be Star-Kist.”

Managed to kill 2 birds with one stone. God, I’m good.

 

 

“Harry, you think Hadley Vladimir Ilyich Lenin will ever marry Jaquan? Because you just don’t mix the Commies with Old Glory. Huh?”

“No!!!!”

“Huh?”

“No!!!!!”

“Huh?”

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! Look, Ralph, Jaquan is doing it the old-fashioned way. He’s earning a good living as a basketball player and is in a position to get married financially. Sounds like the American Way to me.”

“I don’t know, Harry, that Bull on his cap looks too much like Pancho Villa to me. He wins an NBA ring then the next thing you know he and Trotsky lead a revolution right into downtown Chicago. It’s only a matter of time before all the NBA cities come tumbling down. Then Milford High School starts adding The Little Red Book to its curriculum.”

“Oh, Ralph, you come up with the wildest ideas.”

“Just doing my patriotic duty to protect this country from Mao and all his family.”

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June 25, 2019

We Didn’t Expect The Spanish Inquisition.

Filed under: ?, Gil Thorp, Mimi Thorp, What the hell is going on here? — tdrewhardin @ 7:09 am

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On the verandah one fine lazy summer day at the Thorps

“Mimi, one of the workers at the Milford Salt Mines went up and wet himself and caught pleurisy.”

Mimi puts down her Country Time Gooseberry Lemonade on the tray

“Say what?”

“ONE of the workers at the Milford Salt Mines went up and wet himself and caught pleurisy.”

“Let me get a Q-tip out of my purse and clean that little bit of wax stuck in my Eustachian tube. There, that’s better. Now, come again?”

“One of the damn workers at the Milford Salt Mines went up and peed all over himself and CAUGHT PLEURISY.”

“What in the world does THAT mean?”

“Hell if I know, Mimi. Damn, woman, you ask too many questions. All I said was some goddam plebe at the Milford Salt Mines who’s probably a scab went up, peed all over his Levi’s and CAUGHT PLEURISY. Lordy, I didn’t expect the Spanish Inquisition.”

BOM BOM BOMMMMMMMMMMMM

3 gentlemen in priestly garb with gilded roods and somber capuchins jump out of the Smokemaster

NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION

“Gil, I think you better call the Smokemaster Man. I knew when that grill was leaking grease there’d be trouble.”

“Our chief weapons are fear, the element of surprise, ruthless efficiency and wearing a Lady Mudlark softball uniform, oh shit, let’s start over.”

Back in the Smokemaster

“Gil, did you hear this news on WDIG? You know how sleazy their journalism is.”

“Damn, Mimi, I got it straight from Marty at the Milford Lounge. I didn’t expect a Spanish Inquisition.”

BOM BOM BOMMMMMMMMM

Same gentlemen jump out of Smokemaster with grill stains all over their robes

“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!!!!!!!Our chief weapons are fear, the element of surprise, ruthless efficiency, and a fanatical devotion to Marty Moon’s broadcasting style, oh buggers, mate, Gil, can we try this one more time?”

“Hurry, the burgers are about to coal black on us.”

Back inside the Smokemaster

“Gil, sometimes you just don’t come through.”

“Hell, Tori, I’m not God. I just read about the salt mines on p.7 of the Milford Enquirer. HERE, RIGHT HERE next to the Milford Adult Shoppe ad. Geez, I didn’t expect a Spanish Inquisition!!!!!!”

BOM BOM BOMMMMMMMMM

3 gentlemen et al only this time a burnt offering a/k/a overdone Oscar Meyer Wiener is transfixed on one of the roods

“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!!!!!!!!! Our chief weapons are fear, element of surprise, ruthless efficiency, and a fanatical devotion to the Pope. There, I got it right!!!!!!!”

Gil, impatient

“GET TO THE POINT!!!!!!!!!! My brats that you stepped on getting out of the grill are becoming the cafeteria food at the high school!!!!!!!!!!”

“HAH, Coach. We shall more than speed things up!!!!!!!!!!! Cardinal Cardano, read the charges!!!!!!!!!!!”

“You are hearby charged with heresy by thought, heresy by word, heresy by deed, and excessive criticism of Marty’s commentary during the Lady Mudlark Softball Tournament.”

“Thank you, Cardinal. Now Mimi, how do you plead?”

INNOCENT

“HAH!!!!!!!!!!! We shall soon change your tune!!!!!!!!!!!!! Cardinal Richelieu, fetch the bungee cord and tie her to…..the SMOKEMASTER GRILL!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Gentlemen, I have tunaburgers just laid on the grill..”

“HAH!!!!!!!!!!! Too late, Coach!!!!!!!!!! That’s right, get the bungee cord and do your duty, Cardinal Richelieu!!!!!!!!!!”

“Can I brush on some more Heinz 57 on the tunaburgers before you…”

“HAH!!!!!!!! Too late, Co—–, er, well, we haven’t had a bite since we left New Thayer from our Reign of Terror there, just slip us a burger in our robes and I won’t tell anyone.”

“Got it. You want McCormick’s Oregano on it.”

“Why not?”

15 minutes later.

NO YOU IDIOT YOU TIED HER TO THE HANDLE THAT TUGS THE GRILL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

One thing we don’t know for certain in P1 is who is in the car talking. We don’t think it IS the Spanish Inquisition, leastwise I can’t picture those 3 hooded gentlemen talking about the Inquisition in that inconclusive, vague context. Awkward? The Spanish Inqusition?

“Luhm, you’re going to have to rewax the gym floor. It doesn’t look like you even put a mop to it. The free throw line still has Fanta stains on it.”

“Oh, Hell, Gil, I didn’t expect an awkward Spanish Inquisition.”

BOM BOM BOMMMMMMMMMMM

They jump out of the box where the slaughterballs and volleyballs and basketballs and nerfballs are stored

NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Cardinal Cardano, read Mr. Luhm the charges.”

“Heresy by calling the Inquisition ‘awkward’.”

THAT’S IT?????

“Hah!!!!!!!!! Even the most minor unwitting remark is considered Sedition to the Pope!!!!!!!!!!!!! Cardinal Richelieu!!!!!!!!! Give his hair THE BUFFER!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Ooooooookkkkkkk, I’ll just take a wild stab and say that that’s Gil and Mimi in the ZZ Topmobile. Borrowing it from those 3 ladies who boogie in the “Sharp Dressed Man” video. There was a rumor floating around that one of the ladies was Dr. Pearl, who was wearing a wig to conceal her Granny Clampett beehive, evidently extra income to supplement her pittance as an administrator (Milford School Board did vote for a raise at the last Board Meeting because if the rumors were true, she’d throw out her back, after back surgery, trying to shake that thang) but the Milford Enquirer reporter couldn’t get close to the set at the parking lot behind Milford Foundry to confirm those rumors.

I DO KNOW I love to cook, following in the footsteps of my grandfather, Leonard Thomas Hardin, who was a cook in WWI, and that I’m a huge fan of The Naked Chef. Some of his recipes involve salmon.

And WE DO KNOW that that dude in P1 has the ugliest pair of black salmon that the Naked Chef could fish out of the Yukon River in Alaska. He’s stinkin’ up the porch even as I text. Unless that’s way of curing them, hanging them around his neck while he bids adieu or read the evening paper.

AND WE DO KNOW that NO ONE mounts a picture of Libra as a front vanity plate. “I’m the only Hell my mama ever raised”, sure, they’re pretty common on a lot of vehicles. Or “God, guns, and guts made America the #1 nation”, a lot of those seen on vehicles owned by, presumably NRA members or sympathizers. I don’t think Gil sticks that on his Lexus grille but maybe I need to keep up with the times.

“Tod, what a thing to say about your mother.”

“Gil, it was either that or ‘My kid beat up your honor student’. Wouldn’t look to put that on my Nova driving into the school parking lot.”

 

After viewing the worst lip-synching job known to mankind, perhaps since we left the cave sheltering the Neanderthal Man in the Middle Paleolithic Era, the bad montage, loosely speaking, of The Who performing “You Better You Bet”, and montage is being generous as it was the art project equivalent of Keith Moon being Loonie Moonie on top of John Jay or Roger Daltrey twirling the mic, barely missing FDR, the latter of which was executing his “Day of Infamy” speech, knowing my niece would have received an A- for this Elmer’s Glue cause celebre because that was the benchmark for excellence in 7th-grade art class

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Assistant Producer For The Mitch Miller Singers Fired After Gaffe At Milford Outdoor Amphitheater!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“The singers were lip-synching to The Who’s ‘Sister Disco’ instead of the intended ‘In The Mood’; fortunately, no one in the audience seemed to notice.”

 

For P2, I’m going to take the Reductio Ad Absurdum route to see if it’s anybody besides Gil and Mimi. My Intro Logic class out of high school FINALLY put to good use

“…awkward, suspicicious, Spanish Inquisition sort of way? Sure.

ONE ADAM 12!!!!!!!!!! ONE ADAM 12!!!!!!!!!!!! AN ARMED ROBBERY IN PROGRESS AT MILFORD FEDERAL BY THE MILFORD GREYHOUND STATION. CALLING ALL UNITS TO PROCEED WITH CAUTUON!!!!!!!!

Well, can’t be Martin and Kent. Let’s try this again

“…awkward, suspicious, Spanish Inquisition sort of way.”

“It’s the only way I know how to run an EKG on his heart. Otherwise, we’ll have to stick a tube up his anal system if we want to get an accurate reading on his rhythm. We have plenty of microsurgery tubes.”

Okay, “Medical Center” or “Emergency!!” is out.

 

“Boy, Steve, it’s bad enough smelling that Muriel at the ballpark but do I have to open up ALL THE WINDOWS????”

“…awkward, suspicious, Spanish Inquisition sort of way, sure.”

Ah, I believe the standard response to that one is “Shut up and drive, Harry. We’re gonna be late. You know how the Wrigley traffic can be.”

Nope, nope, nope.

 

And to drive home the point it can’t the Spanish Inquisition themselves, they’re just being used as a metaphor

 

At the S-Mart

“Sir, the soda machine is spouting Coffee Mate out of the Diet Coke spigot.”

“What can I DO????? The Maytag Man won’t be here until this evening, he’s working on Gil’s dishwasher. Geez, I didn’t expect a Spanish Inquisition!!!!!!”

BOM BOM BOMMMMMMMMM

Coming out of aforementioned vehicle

NOBODY EXPECTS ETC. ETC. ETC.

Later

“How do you plead?”

INNOCENT

“HAH!!!!!!!!!!! We have ways of making you talk!!!!!!!!!! Cardinal Cardano, give our heretic….THE SLURPEE!!!!!!!!”

“No!!!!!! No!!!!!! Anything but that!!!!!!!! I confess!!!!!!!!! I swear on a stack of One Way’s I confess!!!!!!!!!!!”

I think we better stick with the Gil-and-Mimi theory until further notice.

 

At the Milford Outdoor Amphitheater

“…with your flashy trash pants!!!!!!!!!”

Heard among the senior citizens in the audience

“Boy, they don’t make ’em like they used to. That Glenn Miller was King in his Court.”

“I agree. That’s a unique style by Mitch Miller to help ’40’s Swing make a comeback.”

 

And as for P3, limping to the finish line, ending up dead last in the Milford Marathon

Mimi, you said it, us TWIMers didn’t. You are just rubber-stamping what we have been saying since Hoover was voted out of office. Gil is just biding his time with the Junior Golfers or Senior PGA members or the Milford 4th Grade U-11 Traveling Golf Kings or whoever he intends to “coach”. I mean, pass the tunaburgers, please. Maybe Gil might accomplish something by the end of the summer or after I down the 7th corn on the cob off Mimi’s tray, whichever comes first. We’ll see. In the interim, Mimi, do you still want that London broil on your plate?

 

In Dr. Pearl’s office

“Ms. Rizk, I must advise you that De Windt’s parents are upset about that ‘D-‘ you gave their son in Lifetime Journalism.”

“Dr. Pearl, that’s the 5th student you have failed to back me on and my patience is wearing thin!!!! Pete De Windt has not turned in his assignments, barely passed his exams, and only his project of investigating where Dr. Livingstone was living in the jungles of Africa and how he wound up with 2 illegitamate Rwandans because Dr. Livingstone couldn’t keep it in his pocket saved his grade.”

“They’re saying you never called them when Pete was in trouble.”

“What do I look like, the Milford Welcome Wagon???? Heck, Dr. Pearl, I didn’t expect the Spanish Inquisition!!!!!!!!”

Springing out of the 2nd drawer file cabinet

BOM BOM BOMMMMMMMMMMMM

NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION

Later

“Ms. Rizk, you are in grave danger. Dr. Pearl tells me you have been guilty of heresy by thought. I mean, fantasies about the Pope is understandable but we have standards!!!!!!! How do you plead?”

INNOCENT

“HAH!!!!!!!!!!! We will drive those fantasies out of your cranium and make you pledge your allegiance to Vatican City!!!!!!!! Cardinal Richelieu, pound Ms. Rizk with…THE TYPEWRITER KEYS!!!!!!!!!!!!”

45 minutes later

“No, Cardinal, dum dum, that’s the margin space key. She’ll never be properly tortured that way!!!!!!!”

 

Gang, comment away. Maybe it’s Captain Kangaroo. Nah, why would Mr. Green Jeans be discussing the Inquisition with Mr. Moose?

 

“Is that Kenney Jones up there? Didn’t he play with The Small Faces?”

“I think so. Man, he’s just as crazy as Moon.”

“No question. He’s just banging and crashing with the Singers on ‘Blues To Be There’. Only Ellington did it better at Newport.”

 

“When will they get rid of Coach T???? He didn’t even have a baseball season to speak of. You’re listening to Marty Moon on WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports. And if I was expecting a Spanish Inquisition, I’d have been wearing my cross by now.”

BOM BOM BOMMMMMMMMMMMM

Bursting out of the WDIG Director’s office

“NOBODY EXPECTS THE, oh, buggers, let’s head to The Bucket. All this terrorizing is making me hungry.”

 

 

 

 

May 16, 2019

National Merit Scholarships Are TCFS?

051619

Wait, Linda is trolling for a button/badge? And her teammate Nancy, who isn’t even sure if she is a part of things, denied her? But there does seem to be a specific set for couples TCFS achievement? Are there any written rules at this point or at least some sort of appeals process? Will a rival badge-less clique rise up to contest the new social hierarchy only to itself recreate the rigid social boundaries it was meant to disrupt? Will we leave lots of unanswered questions and then, all of a sudden but after several tall lemonades, see Gil teaching golf to surly seven year olds at the Milford CC over the summer?

I think we know the answer to that last one at least.

Bonus points: Nancy is depicted sitting as far away as possible from the steering wheel and its potentially lethal airbag as one should.  Not sure how well she’s going to be able to steer with her elbows locked like that, but one problem at a time I suppose.

Minus points: Even though Nancy has her hands at the recommended 9 and 3 positions, in the event of airbag deployment, her chunky bracelets are sure to become deadly, if fashionable, projectiles. Also, Nancy comes across as super passive-aggressive as she tells and tells us about what happened (or didn’t) after panel one’s exciting action.

May 9, 2019

Rocki Works In Mysterious (And Quick!) Ways

050919

P1: Either we skipped a few days, or Graphic Goddess Rocki whipped up some original design in just a few minutes. Perhaps she used lots of copy and paste art.

P2: That word, you keep using it…

P3: Oooooh! Thursday cliffhanger! Could they have included the proper noun along with the pronoun? Sure looks like there’s space in for a larger dialogue balloon. Truly great pacing to use the last bit of dialogue to reestablish Molly’s name.

Bonus question: What is that thing that maybe could be the back of a CRT monitor in panel three?

Minus point: I am so committed to posting these things that I can confirm that the logo in panel three is likely not that of Skyborne Advertising, erstwhile enabler of B/Robby Howry’s mass media anti-Gil ad campaign.

May 2, 2019

Work The Hippo! Feel The Flab!

Filed under: ?, Just plain sad, Milford Idiots, Oakwood, Pointy Fingers, softball — timbuys @ 7:20 am

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Truer words, Jamila. I don’t know what else I can say either. Have at it commenters!

Wait, who the hell is Carla? We’ve so far been introduced to Jamila Moses – P (stuffed hippos), Jo(y)celyn Brown – C (‘cool’ hats), Molly Hatchet – SS (synchronized skating (aka ‘Family Stuff’)), Nancy Kaffer – 3B (comic book hero blogging) and Linda Carr 2B (volleyball/David Walter abuse)…. So, who is Carla? Is the hippo named Carla?

April 27, 2019

At The Intersection of Milford and Hazard

Filed under: ?, Just plain sad, Milford Idiots — timbuys @ 7:19 am

The intersection of Hazard and Milford

Some days the week takes you there… In any case, here’s Friday’s strip as a placeholder:

042619

April 11, 2019

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

Or maybe

“The kisses and love

Won’t carry me

’til ya marry me

Gillllllllll

I got the Wedding Bell Bluuueesss”

 

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

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

 

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

 

 

You come on like a dream

Peaches and cream

Lips like strawberry wine

You’re six feet tall

You’re strong

And you’re still throwing heat.

 

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

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

 

You walked out of my dreams

And into my arms

Now you’re my angel divine

You’re six feet…

 

 

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

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

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

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

February 21, 2019

Girls Just Want To Play Ball

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Didn’t the Mudlark Girls Basketball season just whiz on by? I know they only play five games but I couldn’t even go to the fridge for a Grape Nehi, I might miss something. Isn’t Mudlark Girls Basketball Camp just right around the corner? Oh, there’s softball. No problem. Once the homer umpires are lined up, the 6-game season, grueling though it sometimes is, oughta be done before you can say Daffy Duck.

And I’m connecting a lot of dots here. Mimi “No Games” Thorp is overloadin’ on the Hills Brothers to conceal her true colors, i.e., she checked in last week at Milford Detox Center because the bottle was getting the better of her. We know, Mimi, a 5-game season can stretch your mental health and the dam just broke. Go party ’til it’s 2099 (we already passed 1999) and don’t worry about Gil. He has plenty of Reader’s Digest Condensed Books to keep him busy. We at least we know what he’s been doing when the coaching was ebbing in his life. Oh, also, when the Cocoa Puffs bird’s wife was in the hospital because she was going through labor pains (Well, SOMEBODY’S got to take Mr. Cocoa Puff’s bird’s place when he retires; why not his son/daughter?) , Gil filled in on a dime. He might be bouncing off the wall in the office after all the Cocoa Puffs he ate after enduring several commercial shoots but Kaz can cart in a dolly full of bananas from the cafeteria. Anyway, next time you see a psycho with a Joe Friday precipice advertising Lucky Charms or Cocoa Puffs, assume Lucky the Leprechaun and Koko the Cuckoo took a personal day and Gil had a bye week.

 

Oh yes, it’s Ladies’ Night

And she dumped Gil tonight

Oh yes, it’s Ladies’ Night

She’s drinkin’ Sprite

 

As part of Black History Month, Kool & The Gang, a group I deeply respect and admire, will be helping me today to scorch Mimi, who evidently has a lot of time on her hands and a lot of money if she’s spending MORE time at Darney’s Pub than in the gym, teaching her girls how to shoot free throws. At least get Gil’s lazy ass off the concrete slabs he was sitting on and let him be a proxy coach. He might see an epiphany along the way and the girls out-free throw the opposition, if they don’t learn any plays. Heck, I bet they don’t even know how to DRIBBLE or PLAY DEFENSE, Mimi’s been a slum landlord. But with Gil leading the way to teach them that there is no one guarding you and pummel the opposition without grasping the Give-and-Go? It can happen.

 

We might as leap over Girl’s Basketball, it was a speed bump anyway. Honestly, has ANYONE seen the girls play this season?  I will croak if they have Midnight Madness. How can you have Senior Night? Where would you hold it since it’d be silly to stage the event in a venue that wasn’t used by the girls at all, save for Girls P.E., and I’m not even holding my breath on THAT one. It’s kind of unique to have varsity letter winners in a sport they had zero participation in. We’ll get ’em next year. At least the Cubs showed up when they said the same thing.

And while Gil is getting tendinitis of the gluteus maximus while reaching the 1000th page of “War and Peace”, Mimi is engrossed in Peggy Sue’s culinary habits (“Peggy Sue/I love you/But cover your mouth when you chew/O Peggy, My Peggy Sueeeeeeee…”) at a dive started by Barney Fife from the money he saved from the Mayberry R.P.D. Retirement Fund (C’mon, you know Barney the Dinosaur couldn’t have had a hand in this-serving Gerst to the kids?-“WOW, that stuff’s too strong to be a Yoo Hoo!!!!!!! And you don’t need a chaser for Grape Kool-Aid!!!!!!!!!!!!” “Barney, you look funny with foam on your mouth”, all the kids giggling and snickering from Sideshow Bob’s remark) .

That’s right, Mimi. You’re so preoccupied with losses from graduation next year, not to mention Peggy Sue’s slurping Heinz Ketchup from the Nacho Fries Barney imported from Taco Bell that you hardly noticed that bowl of Cream of Wheat onthe table and the upside-down bottle of Cutty Sark you wash it down with. Yeah, I’ll admit Denny’s ketchup packets are not priority for me when eating nachos but it’s not like you’re at Dairy Queen and Peggy Sue is pouring horse radish on a Peanut Buster Parfait.

“Well, I love you, gal/And your choices make me puke…” , Buddy Holly ready to rip into another riff

 

And I’ll give the benefit of the doubt that that’s a “B” in the window, lopped off cleanly by the panel edge. Also, Freddy Mercury, after he cut his hair, is in the background serving more Cream of Wheat and Dunkin’ Donut &  Bar-B-Q Chicken Surprise to that lady with a clinical case of harelip. Or maybe she stapled her mouth shut so she wouldn’t overdo it on the Quaker Oats Cinnamon and Schlitz.

 

 

 

 

Digging into peach ‘n’ plum quiche

Wash it down with something nouveau-riche

Leave Gil without a leash

To watch the kids

 

Oh yes, it’s Children’s Night

And Gil’s not even in sight

Oh yes, it’s Children’s Night

And that’s a fright

 

Thanks, Kool, again. Love your music. You were always yourself and that will ALWAYS sell.

 

And whattya know, Yakov Smirnoff just came in, ready to indulge in the upcoming Quaker-Oats-and-Vodka Fellowship, sponsored by Milford International Ministries, to warn Mimi:

“In America, you can always find Peggy Sue’s party and Barney Fife’s watering hole. But in Russia, the party finds you and they dump Fife in Siberia down a hole somewhere.”

Thanks to the mysterious Sarcastic Jack for help with the last comedy idea and bringing his oregano to Barney’s Pub

Which reminds me

Because I’ma little perturbed that a group of kids were suspended for having a bag of oregano, a harmless spice, in their possession at school, including one who just had it for 30 seconds, passing it from one student to another, ALL BECAUSE IT LOOKED LIKE marijuana (Common sense, School Board, next thing you know, I’ll get arrested for possession of Coffee-Mate in my Wal-Mart shopping bag under the passenger seat because it looks like cocaine)

Dr. Pearl, still hung over from heartburn from her Meat Loaf ‘n’ Grits and Ale, looks up from her table at Fife’s Fine Pub and Dining and notices Mimi and her girlie girls with a Glad bag of Cream of Wheat, Reduced Fat, Gluten-free, Zero Calorie, Low Microwave AND  a bag of oregano.

]Gulping a quick pair of tums she snatched out of beehive and summoning Friday and Gannon in the next booth, still plunging their sporks into Baked Chicken Alfredo & Pommes Frites, dipped in Marinara Sauce and sprinkled with bits of Lucky Charms, while sating their thirst with Canada Dry Ginger Ale (can’t drink on the job) Mimi and the rest of the Go-Go’s are surrounded.

“Awwwwright, police officers!!!!!!!!!! Get your hands up where we can see them!!!!!!! And take off that Barney Rubble mask, Peggy Sue!!!!!!! You’re at the wrong Barney’s!!!!!!!! I’ll let that slide THIS time!!!!!!!!”

Mimi is perplexed

“What’s the charge?” Writ of Habeas Corpus never was so enthralling.

‘Violation of Milford Penal Code 219, Section 82, Article V, Clause 13, “Possession of imitation controlled substances with intent to sell and traffic to the public, such as an eating establishment!!!!!!!! You ladies get your kicks off of taking  some kid’s lunch money so he can snort some couscous??????”

“Mr. Friday, I’ve always watched your show and the lessons I’ve learned from them, such as how to fend off a prowler with a Mr. Coffee appliance-”

“Mimi, you’re in trouble this time. I knew something was wrong when you ditched the season. I always wondered why you disappeared after a TV time-out. Now I KNOW. You were free-basing parsley.”

“I was going to add this Cream of Wheat Sourdough Blend to this pile of nachos. The Dijon mustard was too spicy and giving me the runs. I thought I’d neutralize the recipe.”

“That’s what they all say. But I’m bettin’ Gannon’s Lions Club lapel on his tweed jacket you’ll be draggin’ on cilantro next. Couldn’t handle the hard stuff??? Peppermint too strong for your nose??? Book ’em, Dan-O.”

“Isn’t that Hawaii Five-O?”

“I’ll write the script around here, Mrs. Jalapeno Pepper addict, thank you. Check their purses for ketchup stains. I understand they were peddling Frisch’s Big Boy Burgers w/ Nutrasweet on the black market. That’s a powder only Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds could love.”

“And Mimi, next time you have your girls going door-to-door selling Earl Grey herbal tea leaves rather than World’s Finest Chocolate to raise money for the team, PLAY THE DAMN SEASON!!!!!!!!!!”

“Watch your language, Ma’am. Fife got religion at a Billy Graham Crusade last month at the Milford Convention  Hall.”

“Sorry, Joe.”

 

Rum and cheese lady

Drunk with rabies

Unsophisticated Mimi

Come on, you without a team

Drink like there’s no referees, yeah

 

Oh yes, it’s Ladies’ Night

And B-Ball’s not in sight

Oh yes, it’s Ladies’ Night

That really bites

 

And based on P2 and the above lyrics, you KNOW I have another Milford Beverage Warehouse commercial up my sleeve. Stay tuned. In the meantime, enjoy, I say, enjoy the funny Mimi uttered while imbibing her (maybe) umpteenth glass of Martini & Rossi.

 

Shout-out goes to Craig Holt of Louisville, Kentucky, who today helped many ladies get their seat belts on while riding the bus. That’s what I like about Craig. He’s always at the ready to help ANYBODY who is in need. There is not a negative nor a phony bone in that man’s body. Factor in that he always comes to work READY TO WORK and does so with a smile shows you how America is the better with people like him. He is always so giving and his smile is contagious. I salute you, Craig. America needs you.

Then there’s P3. Gang, didn’t I just get done with Monsters in Milford? Evidently not, given the flying saucers buzzing around the room. Oh, those are LIGHTS. Or maybe Spielberg went the B movie route and is filming on location “Attack of the Amazon Bumblebees”. But since we’re trapped in a hopeless plot, we might as well take roll call and include Annette to the roll call of Mouseketeers. She was just running late from her non-basketball game. It went into overtime. Surely Ms. Latecomer isn’t referring to Booby. Man, he’s tried many hats but Mouseketeer is one he needs to leave in his locker or back on the shelf he hocked it from at Milford Novelty & Gifts.

 

Today’s Black History Month entry is one you’ve already heard of but I want to include him here because I’m angry that his whole career wasn’t publicized. I’m talking about Scott Joplin, yes, the one who wrote “Maple Leaf Rag”. And he was indeed VERY instrumental in Ragtime music, “The Sting” promulgating his music throughout the movie. BUT Joplin was a think-outside-the-box kind of person, much to the chagrin of his publishers. They said that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, but Joplin was too brilliant to be confined to a single genre of music. He had envisioned for years to write an opera score, and understanding that the readership might not take to opera so keenly (understandable) , STILL, he wrote arguably one of the Top 50 operas of all time, “Treemonisha”. The plot was based upon a girl, Treemonisha, who wanted only things to get better after the Civil War had ended. Initially, it was not popular, as people were tired of war and the opera was written during that period of burn-out but caught hold as the ravages of war faded and people began to give a listen. Joplin succeeded in rising out of a rut that was only getting more hopeless and lived to tell about it. Please join me in saluting Mr. Joplin who teaches us all that those that say they can are absolutely right.

 

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, get a T.O., Auguistus Caesar, the Centurions are runnin’ Lions back in their cages!!!!!!!!!! I’m smellin’ a run, Baby!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“And that is what Coach Augustus is doing. Time out on the floor, with the score, 39 dead Lions and 34 dead Centurions.’

 

“Ladies, lookin’ for a place to go to get away from your hubby? Well, Friday Night at Milford Beverage Warehouse is Ladies’ Night and if you’re a woman, you’ll receive half off on all your favorite liquors. Hi, Mimi Thorp here, taking over for Gil who’s on assignment, tucking the kids in bed.  That’s right, leave your attitude, the kiddies, and your wife-beater at the door because the Warehouse is gonna party in style. This Beer Bacchanalian Feast is gonna have all your liquors all over the Warehouse with a live DJ spinnin’ the records while you dance and drink. Man, it’s nice not having Gil around pestering me about the kids while I get it on to ‘Disco Duck’ while sipping on some Maker’s Mark. And you shoulda seen Mrs. Kaz doin’ the Travolta, including splits while all the spotlights from the Milford Shop Class were gleaming brilliantly on her while she was drunk with the spirit and some Heineken Dark Malt. AND SHE DIDN’T SPILL A DROP!!!!!!!!! Hard to do when ‘YMCA’ is playing. And if slow-dancing to ‘Sail On’ by The Commodores with a Clos du Bois Chardonnay in your hand is your thing, the DJ has that on his set list too. Just don’t slow dance with someone like Dr. Pearl if you don’t want the gossip mill to spread all over Milford. What’s at the Warehouse stays at the Warehouse.

Anyway, come thirsty and happy and wearing a bra, as all bare-chested specimens will be assumed to be a man, this Friday Night and melt your Blues away. After all, Milford Beverage Warehouse is an Equal Opportunity Liquor Distributor. Come this Friday and get drunk on ‘From each according to her ability, to each according to her need.’ Groucho Marx couldn’t have said it any better. See you Friday.”

 

Gang, comment away. I’ll be in the corner, trying their Cream of Wheat Key Lime Nacho Chips. As long as I watch my sodium, I oughta be OK.

 

So if Yakov Smirnoff brings his imitation controlled substance to Fazoli’s, I’m assuming he can still order. I don’t think the KGB cases Italian food joints in Milford. Yet.

“Okay, kiddies, let’s sample this Bugs Bunny cup. Mmmmmm, I think it’s a Bud Lite. Do you boys and girls agree?”

 

This is your night

Tonight

Everything will die

In flight

 

This is your night

Tonight

Wine stains on your teeth

Soooooo white

 

This is your night

Tonight

This plot’ll disappear

Out of sight

 

This is your night

Tonight…

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