Are You Sure They’ll Vote Me A Full Member At Putt Putt? Because Hadley Was Accepted Unanimously.

…who went to the March Hare who was having trouble with his hip rotation no matter how much Alice insisted he should swing his hips before full extension of his arms who ran over the Mad Hatter when Tiki caught the bomb at the 10-yard line and the Mad Hatter got called “Toast” cuz he wuz always gettin’ burnt at Free Safety who was going to The Queen to get her to sign a deposition and when Tiki moved into her personal toilet, she exclaimed “Off with his head!!!!!!!!” who saw Gil teach Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum how to putt who went to The Bucket afterwards for a beer after The Queen finally force the Milford Beverage Commission to relent after threatening to send the Royal Guard to the board members’ houses and sodomize their children who said to Gil after spilled a Bucket Strawberry Shake on The Queen “Off with his head!!!!!!!!” who…

Gang, are you as confused as I am trying to keep up with all these plots this summer? The golf plot last year was asinine and stupid but we at least stayed the course, pursuing to the bitter end 3 bozos disguised as Greg, Peter, and Bobby trying to put it to our heroes by faking their scores to Tiger Woods-Jack Nicklaus proportions only to predictably get their comeuppance in the end. C’mon, does anyone think any different? Yeah, a scout saw the leaderboard, called an agent and those bozos were at Augusta the next year with Sam Snead and Arnold Palmer.

But again, we were single-minded in our farcical pursuit of the truth. This year, if you’re not careful, Tiki will lose his man again and trip in the little pool where Hadley Venom is forced to take a drop and try to keep her par at the Drawbridge segment at Milford Mini-Links. Hey, Miniature Golf is a challenge. She needs to challenge her mind to keep it sharp when she has to go over to Mrs. Kravits’ house to inform her that she is wanted as a witness when Tiki is moving in with Samantha and Darren.

Be that as it may, no sense in beating this in the ground and losing our way in the final analysis, you whippersnappers are going to have to bear my love for Black Sabbath with a CLASSIC, Volume 4 the name of the CLASSIC, and a CLASSIC tune off that album, “Wheels of Confusion”. Ozzy, Tony, Geezer, Bill, it’s all yours

 

A month ago I wandered through this plot

On the field or shanking on the golf course

Lost in depostions with no fear

Touch football and torts were all I knew

 

It was an illusion

 

“…there’s a killer on the road,

His brain is squirmin’ like a toad…”

Oh, it’s just Gil driving the golf cart, Jaquan ridin’ shotgun. My Doors moment has come and gone.

 

And to be fair, I think it’s wonderful that Jaquan can be accepted with an overwhelming show of support.

That wasn’t the case many years ago when blacks were subjugated to abuse and second-class status and just flat-out banned from the golf courses all over the country. And in the ’70’s, a time when I was in my teens, you’d think that people would know better.

But a black man named Frazier Vance was golfing at a golf course in Madisonville, Kentucky and was with a foursome enjoying themselves when a couple of golf officials came up to Vance and said

“Get off the golf course.”

And of course, Vance asked in consternation “Why?”

“Because you’re black.”

Naturally, the golf course covered for these 2 roaches by saying to the effect that Vance didn’t have his stage pass. Shame on the people who tolerated this kind of behavior and tried to rationalize it later on.

Frazier Vance, ya done good for the community, My Friend. You taught a lot of people, black and white, the game of golf, your one true passion and love. You made them better people as a result. You did not deserve this. Rest In Peace.

I just love this parade of Blob and his family members in P1. Yup, when they’re not devouring half the populace of Milford, they’re out on the back nine for a relaxing round. Just don’t dip that shoulder, Mrs. Blob, when you’re teeing off. It probably explains why you’re smackin’ everything to the right.

And upon closer inspection, those are GOLF bags and GOLF clubs in the back of Gil’s golf cart. Not the Diet Coke and Mountain Dew canisters I originally conjectured. What Fanta Strawberry Surprize canister has a putter sticking out of its spout? Might help to get another appointment at Milford Optical. And that’s Blob Jr. at the Hot Wheels steering wheel about to approach #8 to tee off. I think we got this all sorted out. Whew!

“…who told the Lobster and the Mock Turtle that they had to get their physical turned in if they wanted to play flag football this year cuz The Queen challenged Gil and Mimi to a match of croquet and when Gil nailed his Titleist on The Queen’s bocce ball and sent it through the wickets and landed on The Bucket’s juke box and it started playing Red Sovine’s Hit Parade, The Queen exclaimed “Off with his head!!!!!!” who went with Hadley Virtueless and the Ace of Spades to Milford High School and told Ms. Rizk that she’d have to go to court and appear before Judge Judy if she wanted to recover her typewriter and not pound on the Dormouse’s buttocks for an editorial who…”

P2-“…the 35 and 3/8 members were so impressed with your singing “The Lobster Quadrille”, especially when you were shoutin’ above the back-up band, Uriah Heep, that they want you to join Fish-Footman, The Knave of Hearts, and Member-Guest as a foursome in the Milford City Tournament next week. With a generous handicap and a few tips to The Cheshire Cat from yours truly, you oughta be a cinch to win. How ’bout it?”

I’d be thinkin’ hard on that one too. Member-Guest blew a couple of putts down the stretch last year and if he can’t survive the pressure, I’d be like Jaquan and go for Willie Mays. He’ll hit it long anyway. And did you see The Catch on the fairway on #5 last year? That just clinches it. Mays is in.

Soon the golf balls changed to ugly pigskins

Figuring out just didn’t come so easy

Gil was more than fairy tales and tap-ins

Dog-Leg Left was just another word

It was an illusion

If ya gotta put a ton of tape around yore flamingo cuz ya got a swingin’ bunt the last time up at the plate in the Major Modified Industrial Men’s League Thursday Night Blue Dot softball at Milford Sports Park but ya don’t wanna git called out fer an altered bat cuz ya crammed sum steel fillers ta cause the poor flamingo ta poop on home plate and piss off the umpire cuz he’s gotta brush the damn stuff off, ya might be a redneck.

“…who asked Gil if he could borrow his Grecian Formula because it wasn’t doing him any good, judging by P2 and Bill the Lizard needed it for those 2 hairs sticking out of his bald head and his fiance said that goatee was enough to make a dog laugh, or so she learned from Elviney and Loweezy  at the gossip fence and that Jaquan and Snuffy Smith needed to use Grecian Formula on their scuzz if they weren’t going to shave it off with a Poulan and Marty Moon needed some Quaker State 10W-40 for his own facial hair if he was going to get romantically involved with Peaches again and go to Milford Men’s Clinic to take care of that croquet stick in his crotch who said that Shermy and Schroeder and the Cheshire Cat said Lucy needed to quit saying that Gil and Linus are wienies…

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Wins Sudden Death At Milford Country Club, Takes City Tournament Title!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“When Member-Guest said something about my mother on #17, Man, that just fired me up.”

And glory be, HADLEY VICTORIA NATIONAL CAN GOLF!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just what we need, another plot to add to the fire. Thorpiverse, I hate to break it to you but if you’re going to mastermind the M.A.S.H. format that worked well for that show, i.e., 2-3 mini-plots interweaving in the span of half an hour and ingeniously bringing closure by the time the closing theme rolled around, you only have ONE MONTH until September before the football plot arises from the dead. You can’t just push the season back and try to shoehorn Jaquan’s mammoth drives on the fairway and Hadley Venom’s putting on the steps leading into the Milford Municipal Court and sign depositions and contracts to have Gil dumped behind Milford Beverage Warehouse and Tiki able to attend Algebra II at Milford simultaneously and Tiki needing lessons from Heather on how to cover a Pop Warner League player on a slant and Mr. Baxendale needing Hayley’s M-O because the prescription at Milford Apothecary ran out when he was gorging in Spaghetti-O’s while lecturing his daughter to marry Robert Brady and be done with it because there were already kids and if she was going to be an on-the-go lawyer, Alice could take care of the kids at soccer practice and still be able to do the laundry. Did I leave out anything?

One month? Lotsa luck.

So we found that there’s too many games

And we know there’s never been a winner

We’ve tried so hard, the summer’s been a loser

Golf carts still be driving once August exits

This plot’s an illusion

And we can safely say without fear of contradiction that after going back and forth between and P1 and P3 and performing the same for several minutes that the people in the golf cart behind Gil and Jaquan are NOT the Frog-Footman and his Member-Guest, let alone a dozen of them, but Mimi and Hadley V. presumably in their own conversation.

“Hell, yeah, if you can shoot through the drawbridge like that and putt like Tiger, you oughta give up your law career and make a career out of Milford Mini-Links.”

“I still need to talk with Jaquan about it first. BTW, you got $15 dollars? There’s the Pepsi Man over by the tree.”

And what is the purpose of Jaquan’s putter overlapping onto the website in general? Did it ever occur to Thorpiverse to move both gentlemen caught up in a tender moment 2 feet over? We KNOW that that is a putter Jaquan has on his person, it is not necessary to be concerned that the audience might think it’s a cattle prod. Move them doggies on the greens, makes sense to me. It’d work better than Hadley Venom’s crooked cattle prod that she’s using to sink her putt and get a birdie when she’s not sticking Elsie the Cow back in the pen. Nice shorts, Mimi, incidentally. Tres chic.

“…and the White Rabbit shouted to Hadley Vacuum Cleaner “I’m late!!!!!!! I have a golf match with Mimi and The Queen!!!!!!!!” as the White Rabbit scurried  to Milford Dollar General to buy a matching outfit just like Mimi’s in P3 who saw Coach Kaz talk to the Dodo who suggested a Caucus Race where Tiki could run the plot in circles and there would never be a winner and he would get dizzy and feel like Marty Moon at Milford Lounge during Onion Rings and Bud Lite Happy Hour who saw Peaches wear Mimi’s golf shorts and they were several sizes too small so she told the Merlin the Magician to transform them into a more comfortable size even though Merlin the Magician came from another story but what else is new when you’re trying to figure out this plot you might as well be trying to figure out The Queen’s croquet swing who told Caterpillar to quit stealing Bobby Howry’s hookah he could smoke his own Bel-Airs thank you very much who told Paul Harvey…”

“And Hadley V. sinks another one!!!!!!! The woman’s en fuego today. We need to take a break before she tees off again. You’re listening to WDIG radio, a division of Lear Field Sports. This is Marty Moon and we’ll be right back.”

“Hello, this is Dr. Pearl speaking for Milford Funeral Solutions. Did your pet just recently die? Have you ever thought about pet cremation?

I know when a few of my hamsters died at our hatchery at Pearl’s Incubating Industries that we needed to get peace of mind and none too soon. Dumping them in the trash can along with that bad Banquet Frozen Dinner Turkey Tenders and Mashed Potatoes would have been inhumane and Betsy and Myrtle and Bernie and Gus were too docile and sweet without their Last Rites.

That’s when my husband and I decided to take a momentous step and talk to the good people at Milford Funeral Solutions. They gave us our choice of ministers, priest, rabbi, or licensed preacher, and the kind of service to perform, Traditional Latin Mass, 3 hymns and a homily (“Just As I Am”, “Victory in Jesus”, and “When The Roll Is Called Up Yonder”) or a more open celebration, giving the audience to relate their favorite moment with Gus or Myrtle. Sometimes a catharsis is the way out.

We were exposed to all the cremation techniques, ways that would be effective in facilitate their transition to the Walls of the New Jerusalem while transcending the Wheels of Fire. We chose the Match-Lite Fluid w/ Black Diamond Matches in Gas Oven method and we were none the wiser for it. We were even able to spread their ashes in Mudlark Lake as a special touch. Believe me, when I saw Bernie’s remains being dropped from the rowboat into the deepest part of Mudlark Lake, I had to hold back the tears.

Why go anywhere else to have your Lassie or Mr. Ed sent through trial-by-fire? Many funeral homes don’t guarantee their work and when you’re left with Mr. Ed’s head after the rest of his ashes is in Milford Holiday Inn’s swimming pool, it’s a long trip home. The undertaker had to remove the spare tire to get to his head. And when I was a sophomore in high school, I remember reading where Chester A. Arthur’s horse wound up at Milford Glue Factory and not as an employee.

Come to Milford Funeral Solutions today and let them take Rin Tin Tin to the Pearly Gates in one piece. Pet cremation never had it so good.

All right, Gang, it’s your turn. Just remember, Alice took the Milford & Oakwood to The Queen’s garden and ran over her petunias which caused The Queen to exclaim “Off With Gil’s Head!!!!!!!!!!” and Coach Shaw went hunting with his sawed-off Flamingo with the rest of the playing cards…

Lost in this Plot of Confusion

Bawling my eyes out with tears

I’m full of angry delusion

Hiding in Gil’s Belvedere…

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Whats egregious is this storyline

Yay– golf! As I figured, someone who hasnt played much golf is yet so good he can throw it out there 295 in the fairway. Usually a muscle man who isnt a golfer will blast one 300 3 fairways to the right. They use all arms and dont turn their hips or lower body so their hands are ahead of the hips, the club comes from the outside, and the resulting sidespin curves the ball to the right. But in Thorps world its right down central. Reality is taking the summer off folks. But what else is new?

 

Meanwhile Hadley is visiting with Mr. Ballard. I went to grade school with a Ballard. He got kicked out of altar boys for stealing hosts, and became a car salesman. How about that green outfit?  Lot of green in this strip. Grass, shirts, cash in Gils wallet…

It looks like the kind you see at the store that nobody buys.  I’m not buying this storyline either.

Catch of the century.

Are you kidding? A sure home run is snared out of the sky by a player who had to have Flubber in her shoes. Her back to the field, she jumps at least 2 feet in the air, timing her leap perfectly as she  backhands the ball into her mitt and  apparently slams into the fence hitting her midsection square. No way her momentum doesnt cause her to topple over the fence, which would mean its a home run, but somehow she stays in the field, and shows the ice-cream cone proudly. All I can say is – Wow. I never saw a high school play like that.  Nice looking arms too.

All you can do in this instance is tip your cap, and there’s no reason for the Milford girls to be so sour. They just practically had a parade for you for winning the conference despite all the distractions, and now your down because that CATCH beat you? Great job, both teams. Go enjoy your summer and all will be forgotton in 2 weeks.

Next time we see that Wellington girl will be in the NBA Slam Dunk Contest.

 

The Rally Hippos Are Back And This Time They Want Your Attention.

They’ve been dragged out of the gym bag to keep the world safe for Democracy and lead us onto Victory. In fact, the Russians used them to cheer on Rocky when he was returning the favor on Ivan Drago and beating him to a pulp. And they are recyclable.

That comes in handy when Gilligan stuffs the ballot boxes and tortures any dissidents who dare challenge his power. Should Andy Taylor and Barney Fife ever get stranded because the Mayberry Luxury Liner took a wrong turn at Albuquerque and wound up on the wrong side of the International Date Line and shared the same fate as the S. S. Minnow, they’re toast. Premier Gilligan will have them lined up on the firing line before you can say “Thurston Howell”. All because Barney forgot to stuff a hippo in the Liner’s luggage rack.

And I remember an obscure episode from Alfred Hitchcock Theater where this nutcase is driving a psychiatrist up the wall throughout the show due to quirky behavior that doesn’t deserve the chair but is enough to wind up on the shrink’s couch.

However, the nutcase goes too far when he has this shoebox in his arms and threatens to push the button, which is on the shoebox and presumably is harboring a bomb inside. Of course, he does it somewhere on a street corner where he scares the daylights out of the shrink and the general public.

Well, the shrink manages to get the nutcase to come to his senses, relatively speaking. The police, having none of it, are just about to cuff him and haul him away when, not so fast, says the nutcase. I didn’t say I’d detonate a bomb, I just said I’d push the button. The police, done in by a case of semantics, the shrink helpless to declare this nutcase a true nutcase, are forced to let him go free.

Now Hitchcock wasn’t about to foment an uprising by letting a psycho go free and continue his Buster Brown Shoe Box Bomb Scares at the Milford Mall so at the end of the show, Hitchcock would announce that our friendly psycho was, say,  caught robbing the S-Mart later on, taken to the Milford Detention Center for further questioning.

And so when I saw the scenario in P3 yesterday, I thought of that episode.

“I didn’t say Wellington WON, I just said ‘1-0, Wellington’.”

“Fine, will you put the Florsheim box down?  You’re making the Lady Mudlarks nervous.”

“Gil, only if you promise to invite me to your verandah for some prime rib off your Smokemaster grill and a cold glass or two or three of Country Tyme Lemonade.”

“Deal.”

“And Mimi wears that bikini she wore when she worked part-time at Hooters.”

“You got it. Anything else?”

“Yeah, you know where I can get a program of the game?”

“I think they still have several left by the mustard bottles by the concession stand.”

 

And I’ll admit yours truly thought Wellington was going to raid Milford and head outta town sneakin’ away a victory but noooooooooooo, if that’s to happen or no, we won’t find out today, we didn’t find out YESTERDAY and I’m not holding my breath on tomorrow, given the attention the Rally Hippos have commanded. They certainly know how to interrupt any Kirk Gibson Moment in Time.

In fact, when Willie Mays made The Catch, do you really honestly think he wound up with a BALL??????

“I can’t get this Hippo out of my glove. Where’s the equipment manager? And tell him to bring a screwdriver.”

 

Seen in some Fin de Siecle edition of the Milford Enquirer

“How Did The Rough Riders Take San Juan Hill? The Hippo Knows!!!!!!!”

sub head line

“Dr. Pearl’s father. Lt. Col. Thaddeus Wilcox Pearl, led Milford’s regiment right behind Teddy even as Dr. Pearl served as a nurse in Barton’s tent.”

 

Oooooooooookkkkkk, we are puttin’ on our Rally Hippos!!!!!!!!! Robocop, er, Linda Carr managed to draw a walk with Milford still in contention, and, honestly, were we expecting ANYBODY ELSE? The damn strip is only alloted 3 panels at a time and if the hecklers got to be too much when Bozo the Clown coaxes 4 balls and a free pass down to first base (Remember, you can’t defense a walk to Barney Rubble) , you can’t get 3 extra panels and overlap them into Dilbert. Bozo and Dilbert on first, nah, that ain’t right, Bozo’s on first, Dilbert’s on second, I Don’t Know’s on third, or something to that nature.

Be that as it may, Linda Carr, fresh from freeing herself from the Autocracy of Gilligan and his iron-handed rule in Australia, is on the bag, representing the tying run. Darn, the script didn’t shoot this lame horse with Linda not paying attention and getting picked off the bag. Of course, that’s just speeding up the scheme of things until Gil and Mimi and the Psycho enjoy Miller Time on the verandah, er

COME ON, LINDA!!!!!!!!!!! RAL-LEE!!!!!!!! RAL-LEE!!!!!!!! RAL-LEE!!!!!!!!! RAL…..

 

 

 

 

Come to Sycamore Island on Corydon Pike in New Albany, Indiana. They are across the road from my dad’s business and have been around for eons to take care of the fisherman or the hunter in the family. If you need that fishing rod or hunting bow right quick, chances are, Jim Proctor, the owner, has it in stock or will die try to get it for you. AND the Pay Lake is well-stocked to satisfy people eager to nab one out of the water. That place is ALWAYS busy. I oughta know.

Come see for yourself where Jim and his friendly staff are there ready to take care of you. That’s what Small Businesses do. And they DEFINITELY know my name. Isn’t that what this is all about?

Support Small Business. Keep America great.

 

Would you like to say something before you bat

Volleyball is sunken somewhere in Mudlark Lake

 

 

I couldn’t bring myself to tolerate the offal that was thrown

Gil’s hair is justly permafrosted and lying in some cave

We watched the hippos dancing and lost a bloody year

 

 

And I-I-I-I-I-I-I would like to knowwwwwww

How does it feel

How does it FEEL

 

Bah,

Bah bah bahhhhhhhh

Bah bah bah, BAHHHHHHH

Bah bah-de-bah

 

Goodbye to you

Golf season’s due

I’ve stood this plot for one year

 

Gotta feed my Floyd Fix

It’s “Summer ’68” off of Atom Heart Mother, you whippersnappers.

RIP, Richard Wright. Your organ and piano and general keyboards were killer on songs such as “Us and Them”, anything from “Animals”, “Eclipse/Brain Damage”, etc.

 

If ya yank yore Rally Bloodhound out of yore Rural King gym bag that’s still got the price on it because yore Thursday Night Men’s Slo-Pitch Light Industrial League team is puttin’ on a ferocious rally against Milford Tool & Die, espeshully cuz no new inning cain’t start after 11:00PM, ta accommodate them that’s gotta work third shift, all fer braggin’ rights fer one year and a case of Stroh’s Select, ya might be a redneck.

 

Does she or doesn’t she? Man, what color, what brilliance, such elan to watch this soar to new heights…all right, lay off, this is not a Clairol ad, it’s Carla layin’ some wood to the ball (Those tips by the Madison batters at Milford Batting Cages & Driving Range paid off, whattya know) , pretty good form and angle at that. Yet, we gotta wait until at least TOMORROW to see if she pulls a Kirk Gibson and performs the Home Run Trot, complete with Pulling the Bow while she’s rounding second base, or if this is just warning track power.

I feel like Theseus trying to negotiate this Labyrinth that is this softball plotline, thankful that I have this thread to clutch in case the person or thing or whatever pops out of the Journalism Room and it isn’t Ms. Rizk. Granted, she should get a life but you wouldn’t think her mien would be altered, ya think…

Vin Scully with the call

“They’re bringing Eckersley in to face Gibson. The last time this happened, well, you have to go alllllllll the way back to 1961, when Sandy Koufax faced Roberto Clemente, the latter fresh off the DL, on a full moon night and the Dodger Stadium popcorn machine flickering for its life…”

THERE’S A DRIVE, WAY BACK, IT MIGHT BE, IT COULD BE—-

AAAAAAHHHHHHH, THERE’S THE MINOTAUR!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHERE’S MY THREAD?????? GOTTA GET BACK TO THE CAFETERIA ASAP!!!!!!!!!! IT DOESN’T LIKE THE FOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

At any rate, the Lady Mudlarks have a lot riding on tomorrow(?). Stay tuned.

 

“They’re bringing in a pinch hitter. I don’t think it’s Gibson. I’ll have more in a moment. There’s 2 out, a runner on first, with score, Wellington, 1, Milford, zippo, you’re listening to Marty Moon, the voice of WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

DON’T NOBODY MOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’LL PUSH THE BUTTON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Coach Shaw, I know I can be a hardass sometimes but put down that Air Jordan shoebox and let’s talk.”

DON’T COME ANY CLOSER, GIL. I’LL BLOW THIS WHOLE MALL TO SMITHEREENS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Well, while you’re scaring everybody here in the Food Court, will you at least tell us what is wrong? I’m starving for some Fish ‘n’ More at Long John Silvers and I think I deserve an explanation as long as you’re delaying lunch hour. Some of us have to get back to class, we can’t all come and go in the strip when we damn well please, y’know.”

Coach Shaw, seeing Gil’s point, clings to the shoe box but takes middle finger off the knob

Then his head sags slightly

“My wife said I needed to take my significant other to Milford Lathe Works and get it shaped to be a bed leg cuz it wasn’t doing no good in bed. Something Clemenceau slept in during the Treaty of Versailles.”

“That’s ALL your problem? You threatened to blow up the Milford Dippin’ Dots stand because you couldn’t pump like you used to pump iron when you were in high school?”

“Shame, ain’t it?”

“Shaw, if you’ll dump the Air Jordans, I can slam dunk your Erectile Dysfunction problems by taking you down to the east wing, between Milford Jeans Outlet and Payless Shoes, where Milford Men’s Clinic is located. There, they have the latest technology and medicines, tailored to fit your needs and follow through with a program that will get you as hard as new. And now, for a limited time, they have the testosterone drug, Flexidol, an injection intended to air that flat tire in a minute when she’s bending over in that bikini when she’s doing the laundry but gentle to bring your significant other for a safe landing when you’re ordering the Whopper w/Cheese Combo here at Burger King in the Food Court. No sense in people chomping on a Wendy’s Chicken Club wondering if that’s a Russet Potato growing out of your crotch.”

“I’ll go on one condition.”

“You got it.”

“Can you loan me some money to post bail?”

 

“Well, this story had a happy ending. The Milford Mall agreed to drop charges against Coach Shaw if he would undergo Court-ordered treatment, an 18-month program at the Milford Men’s Clinic, and the intense therapy that accompanied it. It’s a Dog Wash for his significant other, in other words. Plenty of Lassie Shampoo on this limp garden hose that will grow up to be a man.

Come see for yourself at Milford Men’s Clinic. And leave your Gucci shoe box at home.”

 

Have at it, Gang. I can wait until the 2020 Presidential Election to see if Milford pulled it out. Bought plenty of popcorn.

 

“The ending of oww-er stawry was nawt completely devoid of bad tidings, my frehnds. Gil and Mimi wroh–tt their ohhnn ending and the Lady Mudlahh-rrks won the champion-ship, beating Wellington, 36-1, in a, to quohh-tt you Americans, cake (slight pause) walk. And they dumped the bawdy of Mr. Moon in Mudlahhrr-kk Lake. The Psycho mehhh-tt his match with Don Everly. That is awwll. Good night.”

 

 

OMG, WHERE’S MY FLEXIDOL

“You can look but you can’t touch. Or I WILL push the button. Eat your ground round before it gets cold. And you’re spilling Bud on the verandah.”

Is Tanking in the Playdowns TCFS?

Friday is the first day of summer in the Northern Hemisphere, so Rubin has four days to wrap this stinker up. How best to do it? By having the Lady Mudlarks lose in the opening round of the playdowns to a supposedly inferior opponent, apparently. That Black Sox analogy from a couple of weeks ago doesn’t seem so far off now.

The Milford ladies’ undoing begins in the form of a botched double play, or at least it looks like a botched double play. We have to assume that Linda threw the ball on to Carla, otherwise how would Carla muff a flip to Linda? I guess it’s better to muff a throw than to throw a, uh, never mind.

It’s been so long since Whigham has had to draw actual action that it seems he’s forgotten the finer points. For instance, when Molly’s that far into her release, shouldn’t the ball be much farther away from her? Having a player flex on an opponent’s error is bad form, too. If #7 comes back up to bat again, she should get one thrown behind her ear, just sayin’.

No matter. The die has been cast and Gil is mixing up the Long Island iced tea pitcher on the deck as I write.

I Bet No One’s Said That to the Blues or Raptors

In the real world, this past week saw league championships won by franchises that had never won them before: the NHL’s St. Louis Blues and the NBA’s Toronto Raptors (contrary to popular belief, not named for Brent and Jolene Raptor). I always enjoy seeing first-time champs; I think it’s good for the sports. It’s one of the reasons I’ve been pulling for a Mariners-Nationals World Series for the past fifteen years. Both the Blues and the Raptors won on the road and, while it’s not the same as winning on home ice/court, it didn’t diminish the joy in their respective fan bases.

In the Thorpiverse, it’s not like the fans have been packing the bleachers to watch the Lady Mudlarks rip through the Valley. If anything, the TCFS scandal that wasn’t may have alienated large chunks of the student body. Since we seldom see the stands in any Milford baseball/softball action, it’s hard to say. My guess is that the Lady Mudlarks return to campus to three cheers and a tiger and a big TCFS banner honoring them for winning, for reading Animal Farm, and for passing out spirit buttons to anyone who asks nicely.

Today’s strip doesn’t have the feeling of a story wrap-up, but it does have some foreshadowing in the form of Jocelynn’s twisted ankle as she crosses the plate. Just enough of an injury to get the girls knocked out in the first round of the playdowns but not enough to end the self-congratulation. Maybe Mimi can lord it over Gil this summer; it’s no state championship but it’s the most recent championship either Thorp has brought back to Milford.

metapost, kinda: Mea culpa for getting it wrong earlier this week that Linda was going to David’s to break up with him. I still don’t give them much longer.

“Big Brother Is Watching You. And Wants A Button Too.”

“I’ll give you $500 to call off the deal or you can find out what’s behind Door #3 that Carol Merrill is standing by.”

“I’ll take what’s behind Door #3.”

“He says he’ll go for Door #3. Carol Merrill, show him what he’s won.”

Johnny Olson, moonlighting from Match Game Mudlarkia, with the call

“It’s a year’s supply of BUTTONS!!!!!!!!!. That’s right, Monty, buttons out of the stovepipe, buttons out of that elephant’s butt that Carol Merrill is riding, it’s raining buttons everywhere. In fact, on your next trip to the Bahamas, the button-powered Cessna will land you safely to the Nassau airpo-”

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sorry, Gang, I just had a nightmare. Maybe that button-shaped Bucket Cheerios and Pepperoni Pan Pizza did the trick. Couldn’t have been the Frosty Root Beer. That’s shaped like a bottle.

And this one is spiraling out of control. What began with hippos as good luck charms changed for the worse into a Button Robber Baron Campaign that only a Rockefeller or a Carnegie could appreciate. I can’t even imagine John Rockefeller selling his share of 3 street blocks of Milford, plus some of his oil shares in Oakwood Oil, Inc., his drilling taking place out on an open field next to Tod Andrews’ property, just to get his hands on a billion TCFJPG (Too cool for J. P. Getty) . I’m guessin’ he’ll leave the John Rockefeller gym alone, y’know, the girls gym at Milford. He figures he’ll get SOME usage out of it this coming season. They can’t go 2 seasons without girls basketball, the script won’t allow it. Besides, he doesn’t want the rims to rot or he’s going to have to order another tax write-off through his accountants.

Believe me, there are enough buttons to share the wealth. I understand Hannibal is coming into town after negotiating his elephants through the Alps. Geez, I heard the route between Milford and New Thayer was dicey but if I have to leave my Freightliner, trailer included, at home and ride an elephant with Gil and Mimi, I’d rather sample the Bucket Prune Juice (made from concentrate).

And General William Rosecrans is also expected to hit Mudlarkland before this evening to earn a button and also a Medal of Honor (same difference, I suppose) after his decisive victory at Stones River. I was told Molly would enough buttons for the members of the Army of the Cumberland.

BTW, General Braxton Bragg declined on behalf of the Army of Tennessee. He telegraphed Molly that the Rebs were not into moral victories.

And how can I forget Murderer’s Row? Babe and the Iron Horse and the rest of the ’27 Yankees without some form of recognition, TCFRS (Too cool for Red Sox) ? The button is the rubber-stamp of their dominance that season, a reminder that you can cheer on The Bambino and still call yourself a Mudlark.

 

 

Did I leave anybody out?

Oh, Heavens no, can’t let the ’19 Black Sox get a button. I already have a TCFBSWCADTC (Too cool for Black Sox who cheat and deserve the chair) securely fastened to my Arrow Sorts Shirt. I’m sending a message.

 

I am VERY reluctant to announce the passing of musician Leon Redbone. I confess that I was not a big fan of his but that doesn’t stop me from admiring his contributions, significant and big. He had a nasally voice that crooned the tunes, his guitar-playing crisply and obediently following along, singing songs mainly from Ragtime, Jazz, and Tin Pan Alley. In fact, he revived those genres in a mighty way after they had been phased out in the late ’50’s and ’60’s with the advent of Rock ‘n’ Roll. He proved you could love Rock ‘n’ Roll AND those styles too (I’m living proof) .

A frequent contributor to Saturday Night Live, and rightfully so, he was 69. I miss you already, Big Guy. Just have that concert ready when I cross the threshold in the sky. I’ll be a ready audience.

 

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that in P1, they are warming up and are employing the old “Pitch and Catch” method. I ruled out Rosenthal’s, he dealt with foreign languages, not buttons and softball. No boomerangs. No frisbees. No frisbee golf. They are in their uniforms not because they work for the State, directing cars to SLOW in a construction zone, but because they are actually preparing for a softball GAME.

Therefore, since ships are no good to ship goods and thereby earn profits if they are safely anchored at Port of Milford, I’m gonna take my S.S. Minnow out for a test drive on Lake Michigan and say those are foul lines they are pitching and catching around. No demilitarized zones anywhere near Milford and I have never know Mudlarkland to straddle the Mason-Dixon Line.

Glad I got THAT conundrum solved. I can concentrate on Squaring the Circle and the Four Colors Problem.

 

If ya wear a button that says TCFIL, or Too cool fer Izod and Lexus, while yuz mall-walkin’ yore bloodhound at Milford Shopping Mall and only stop to let him go wee-wee behind the Milford Chick-Fil-A dumpster, located 50 feet behind the Food Court sign, ya might be a redneck.

 

And you’d think that our anti-heroes, the ones who are dragging down the word TEAM into a pile of doggy doo doo that Luhm amassed from the softball outfield grass would get their comeuppance and learn from their loss the other day. If anything, they’re proving resoundingly that there is an ‘I’ in the word “selfish”.

I can hear Stengal now: “Doesn’t anybody around here want to play this game?????”

Mimi really ought to be asking the question but she’s too busy playing 20 questions in P3. Is being too cool for 20 questions bigger than a bread box? I’ll go check Roget. He oughta know that and the answer to a clue in the New York Times Crossword I am alternating between that and the Concordat at Milford presently being ironed out in P2. A supplement to the Adams-Onis Treaty, Napoleon can have Idaho back in the Louisiana Territory, Jacksonville can be a French Colony including the guillotines to deter rebellions to his rule and, oh, can wear a button, TCFB (Too cool for Bismarck) . Ah, the compromises humans must go through for peace at any price.

Spain, BTW, can still have the Okefonokee Swamp. Last minute addition to the deal.

 

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Mitch Miller Singers Guitarist Sent To Milford General After Accident At Milford Amphitheater!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Throws out back after attempting Townshend Windmill maneuver on the song ‘Tuxedo Junction’. Out for 8 weeks on Tour.”

We come to P3. I THINK Mimi is trying to go the Foghorn Leghorn route, engineering a funny, hoping the ladies will get the hint and flush their TCFO (Too cool for outhouses) buttons down the toilets at the Milford Softball Complex facility.

The strategy of choice is, I’m presuming, Orwell’s Animal Farm. Y’know, get rid of the drunk farmer and let the animals run the asylum. But they gotta do it as a team, utilizing the motto “Four Legs Good, Two Legs Bad, One Plot Pathetic”, or something to that effect. And I’d even play along with this odd attempt to inspire and motivate her players were she not standing in front of one of the worst-designed backstops I have ever seen since P. K. Wrigley sold the Cubs (Don’t hate me Robmize, I was trying to hold back, the A & W chili dog forced it forward) .

If I have to fire up the troops in a Salvador Dali lookalike painting, my career as a coach will go the way of the dinosaur. But at least there are drawings of them in caves somewhere. My career wouldn’t survive the rough draft.

I am really honestly trying to figure out if the backstop is FOLDED IN or concave or FOLDED OUT or convex. You really need to figure this out before First Pitch as you really don’t want to send your players out of the dugout on the wrong side of the ledger. It’s bad enough that Mimi is still NOT TAKING CHARGE and resorting to leatherbound editions of The Classics as a text for her Gipper speech but speculating where the infield is located might send things over the edge.

“Hey, coach, some vandals moved the outfield to Diamond #3.”

And a late throw-in, judging from Mimi’s attire, MTV logo included, we now know the kind of women that populate the planet the Kanamits live on. They could save the trouble of UN Peace Conferences and just send a few of these Mimi Models out of the spaceship at strategic locations, i.e., malls, bars, NFL Monday Night games, Garth Brooks concerts, etc. Guarantee they’d have a menu by the end of the week.

 

 

“And that wraps up another loss for the Lady Mudlarks. Coach Mimi Thorp, your Father Flanagan approach isn’t working. We’ll be back to wrap things up in a moment, with the final score, Madison, 3, Milford, 2. This is Madty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

As Mimi does a swan dive on the bed in her negligee, she awaits her unsuspecting victim.

Gil enters. He is still reading about Stephen Curry in The Sporting News while still brushing his teeth.

SPLAT

“Gil, enough on the Golden State Warriors. Time to take charge of me.”

“Mimi, he got game. I was enjoying the part where he basically took apart Portland single-handedly.”

“Speaking of taking apart-”

And then I was going to read the team-by-team breakdown of each team’s chances of making the Super Bowl. They say Mayfield may lead tbe Browns while Roethlisburger is still nursing his left testicle and is questionable-”

“Gil, come to-”

“After breaking down the Chargers’ chances, I want to read that article on Hank Iba. I didn’t know his brother was a transvestite. Man, TSN is REAL thorough in their research.”

“Gil, to bed, pl-”

“Then the Yankees are talking trade again. Andy Pettite for Hack Wilson and ol’ Hoss Radbourn. I knew they needed right-handed power-”

“Gil, aren’t some of those players from the past, say, Dead Ball Era.”

“Honey, I just read them, I don’t bother to look it up. That’s what Statistical Abstract is for. When they pay me to do a piece on Christy Mathewson’s Polled Heifer collection, I’ll be the first in the barn”

“Gil, are you having erectile issues again?”

“Mimi, if you think I’d stoop low, literally and figuratively, for a Hereford-”

“Gil, I mean NOW.”

Mr. Horse makes a cameo appearance and pulls the front of Gil’s pajama bottom

“Hmmmmmm. Nope, I don’t think I see it.”

 

“Face it, when you have to resort to Mr. Ed to address your erectile issues, it is time to renew your focus and head to Milford Men’s Clinic. I regained my sex drive, i finished that article on Polled Herefords and Mr. Ed is back in his stall. Now, if only my wife would take charge herself. Oh, well, 2 out of 3 isn’t bad, or, oops, ah well, close enough, we’re playing horseshoes. And be as erect as one today. Only at Milford Men’s Clinic.”

 

Gang, the phone issues are out to get me again. I apologize and truly appreciate your patience. Your readership is NEVER taken for granted.

 

“Ed, can I borrow one of your magazines again? I have a date tonight and I want to be ready.”

“Sure, Wiiilllll-bur. Look under the 2nd bale of hay on the right. Erectile issues again, Wiillll-bur?”

 

“I don’t know if Infield Fly applies on Convex Fields, Coach. It’s still under review.”

 

 

 

 

Chef Gil, This Plot Has Been Chopped

You’re kidding, right? It’s this much of a no-brainer, kinda like someone handing you a $100,000 check when you’re leaving Milford Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market to take your groceries to the car. No strings attached??? Just don’t forget to sign your John Henry on the back when you cash it at Milford Federal.

Still doing a mental background check on the person the implementer of such largesse, well, gee, duh, if you’re caught up in “Tippicanoe and Gil Thorp too” buttons, worried more how they’ll play on the free market than THE ACTUAL GAME ITSELF, isn’t that another way of saying YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW???? Yeah, it’s rocket science when you forget “There’s no ‘I’ in the word ‘team'”. We gotta go back to kindergarten to figure that out????? Linda, right now, I wouldn’t give you a scholarship on Romper Room’s intramural team.

 

“Coach, since you’re not going to do much coaching until, say August, loosely speaking, you understand, do you mind if I take a vacation?”

“No, Coach Boone, you only show up around the Playdowns anyway. To paraphrase Dylan, you just want to be on the side that’s winning.”

“Coach, that’s not entirely fair. I watched you work with your kids the entire afternoon practicing their putts at Milford Golf Course because you got tired of maxing your credit card at Putt Putt by teaching them how to negotiate the windmill. It was as exciting as watching paint dry teaching them how to avoid a bogey on par 5 dog leg left Shoot Through The Bazooka pin, but the cashier at Putt Putt was proud. Little victories in everything.”

“Oh, Hell, Boone, take the whole summer. If you can’t handle having to endure physical activity for long stretches at a time, take your candy ass to Wheel of Fortune for all I care. Win a trip to Bahamas and get lost.”

 

The trip to “Worst Cooks In America” is getting off to a resounding start, doncha think??? Hope Coach Boone brought his ‘A’ game.

 

How’ bout dippin’ into the ’80’s for a little Talk Talk?

Funny how the crowd observes my every move

I walk with lack of privacy at school

I wish I’d never paid 39 pennies

For the El Dorado

 

They just drool

 

I ask myself

Can I make it to a stall

 

 

It’s my badge

Don’t you forget it

It’s my badge

You touch, you’ll regret it

 

I like how timbuys mentions “just plain sad”. What other scenario can be drawn from today, especially P1? Gang, do what you want but I ain’t touchin’ P1 with a 10-foot pole. She is puttin’ on a clinic. Good arm extension, hip rotation, eye on the ball, level swing, ball poppin’ off the bat at a good angle. Guarantee it, Walt Hriniak is taking notes and he didn’t do that often.

But do we have to learn from The Joker about how to swing a bat because Batman was out in the Batmobile too long???? Yeah, it is, indeed, just plain sad when this clinic is coming from the other team. F— you, Mudlarks, and quit pullin’ your head when you swing. Correct me if I’m wrong Thorpiverse old-timers, especially from the Berrill era, but wasn’t some of the tips we’d see flashed on the screen not only educational and an added bonus, it actually came out of GIL’S MOUTH???? I know I’m not going to Tod Andrews’ Oakwood Baseball Summer Camp Junior High Division to learn how to use 2 hands and squeeze when you catch the ball.

The Philistines are teaching the Israelites how to Punt, Pass, and Kick.

 

Then there’s P2. What can ANYONE say????? It is going 180 degrees away from P1. Just about ANYTHING that’s right in P1 is wrong in P2. Players with heads up their asses, putting their own selfish agenda before what’s going on  the field. How can I mention fielding technique? I had a saying when I was coaching Babe Ruth League Baseball, “What do you tell the player who knows everything? Nothing.” In P2, rest my case.

 

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“USF Holland Semi Collides With TCFS VW Company Van!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Miraculously, no one was injured. Semi on the way to The Bucket to deliver guacamole chips.”

 

“Coach Boone is pulling the chips out of the oven-he forgot to add KC Master Bar-B-Q sauce to the recipe. You have 10 minutes on the clock, Coach.”

 

“So Coach, what are you making, if I may so ask?”

“I’m serving up a Guacamole Chicken Salad Tostada en los Frijoles Morenos y una Copa del Vino Merlot Fresco serving for 8 people. This has to be seasoned just right, especially when I lay the Grippo’s on the sheet pans.”

“Absolutely. I noticed you’re using Bar-B-Q chips. Aren’t you a little concerned that the judges might have Grippo’s breath for days?”

“Way ahead of you. I solved that problem watching ‘Trisha’s Southern Kitchen’ one night. She doused a pint of chocolate cherry liqueuer all over the Baked Chicken Gumbo, Sauteed in Nabisco Cheese Nips .I understand Trisha only needed a half a pack of Certs when she performed with Garth for a Nashville charity event.

 

If ya burned the guacamole chips and sneak out the back down to Piggly Wiggly, buy out the store of Golden Flake Cheddar ‘n’ Sour Cream Potato Chips, stick ’em in the bed of yore pick-up, lay the tarp over ’em so the judges don’t notice when they’re on a smoke break, then smuggle ’em to the cupboard on a commercial break, ironically enough Lay’s Vinegar Chips one of the sponsors, ya might be a redneck.

 

Being stalked by everyone

Green with envy

Can’t even approach the water fountain

 

Need a hall pass to Chem or French

Econ field trips are simply out

 

What a mountain

 

I ask myself

Can I buy a Twinkie from the cafeteria

 

 

 

 

 

It’s my badge

Don’t you forget it

It’s my badge

You just don’t get it

 

After coaching the linebackers for 2 strips while Gil is off another Big Adventure, Coach Boone returns for prep time.

“Okay (flush) , I put the guacamole sauce in the microwave. While that’s sizzling, I will get the chicken ready. (To himself) Goddammit, I told KFC I wanted white meat this time. (To the audience) Fortunately, I have a glass bowl ready, sitting by the Cocoa Pebbles, whattya know. I dump the chicken strips in the bowl, add a pinch of paprika, a pinch of cilantro, add a tablespoon of raspberry red, half a teaspoon of orange orange, and a quarter cup of green clovers and a half cup of yellow moons.”

“Coach, you think Lucky Charms will mix evenly in the bowl with Green Onion Grippo’s Chips.”

“I had to try something. I’ve already used Grippo’s Bar-B-Q Chips for my other secret recipe. Besides, it’s no different than making a free safety whose family is from Laos line up with the outside linebacker whose dad’s a hog farmer. They talk out their differences and BOOM BABY!!!!!!!! Next thing you know, we stop the tailback at the line of scrimmage. Friends For Life do that.”

“Just don’t forget to add Contadina Tomato Paste so the flavors don’t overwhelm. And some Lysol. The yellow moons got a little chewy when I sampled the product.”

“Thank you, judges. And I’ll add a few drops of iodine so that the acid-base reading is close to ‘7’ as possible.”

 

Then P3 is the culmination of the failed “Keep Cool with Cool Buttons” campaign. Yeah, I reckon you need to call the whole damn nation/keep the tailgate down with your glove if you don’t want another “Dewey Defeats Truman!!!!!! moment at the Mudlark Softball Complex.

Madison is just simply dancing in front of the Mudlark dugout, doing their best Travolta rendition, complete with disco ball. The spotlight is going back on the team bus with the rest of the Philistines. Lady Mudlarks, you’ve been chopped.

 

“Coach, I don’t understand. Weren’t you going to add guacamole chips to your dish?”

“NO!!!!!! Those were the appetizers to hold down the fort while I work through this. Kroger ran out of store-brand Restaurant Chips. I want this Guacamole Chicken Salad to be just right. The soy sauce clicked with the blue diamonds so CYA in that regard. But I got some Dorito’s Cool Ranch under the sink in case I gotta go to Plan B.”

 

Ooooooookkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back to help skewer this plot. Take ‘er away, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooooo dumb  (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she wore a button that said ‘Too Cool for ________________'”.

 

“Coach, you ARE aware you have 5 minutes?”

“And your point is?

“The Guacamole Chicken Salad Tostada en los Frijoles Morenos y una Copa del Vino Merlot Fresco looks a little overdone. I can see au gratin potato stains all over the green clovers. And I’ve seen better cooked chicken at Mel’s Diner. I’m not sure Alice would even eat that Waffle House in Paradise.”

“HA!!!!!!!! That’s where I’ve got you judges where I want you!!!!! I want you to THINK I’m burning the merchandise but not only am I going to marinade it now, but the slight sizzle, or overcooked as you say, will bring out all the flavors, especially all the anise. The Trix portion of the dish won’t know what hit it. Honey Nut Cheerios pieces and Kroger Restaurant Chips simmering in a cream cheese marinade sauce? Like to see Thorp do better. He can barely marinade water.”

“All right, we’ll see what happens. You’re the cook. I just hope you come through with the Chocolate S’mores and Louisiana Lightning Sauce mixture that you highly bragged about.”

 

I snuck into the dugout gate

With my Holy Grail

Locked in the gym bag, best know the combination

 

Only “All The Way With LBJ”

Stopped TCFS hardware

 

From world domination

 

 

Convince myself

Mussolini ran campaigns better

 

 

This is my badge

Don’t you forget it

This is my badge

You can’t even pet it

 

This is my badge…

 

As Gil rides off into the sunset with one of the ostriches, rumor has it thst he was at the Savannah Section of Milford Nature Area

 

“Chef Boone, congratulations, you have earned the distinction Worst Cook in America. I wouldn’t feed this concoction to starving children in China, let alone on my block. The chicken was chewier than a Nerfball, the lemon juice was overbearing with the Cocoa Puffs, and don’t even go there with the guacamole chips. I could buy better chips from a street vendor who sells chili dogs at lunch.”

“I’m just getting Lay’s Potato Chips and KFC  Breast Dark Meat and maybe the mashed taters in the pee cup that comes with the chicken. You sure you didn’t take a urine sample yourself in this slop?  I’d be drug-testing you for stupidity at my restaurant right now. How you can have the audacity to mix Chic-Lets and oregano just so you can spice up your dish is more than a travesty. And the raspberry red was undercooked. Don’t quit your day job.”

“Chef Boone, or maybe just Mr. Boone, since you can’t coach or cook. Why in the world are you using Arm & Hammer Baking Soda after you take it out of the oven? You needed to mix it in to give the chips a more even texture. your chicken was raw and the substitute Tater Tots ‘n’ Vine Ripe Tomatoes that you got from your grandfather’s recipe didn’t really replace the guacamole chips you ran out of. Ever heard of Pam? Chef Boone, you’ve been chopped, I’ll save the trouble before the commercial break.”

 

“Thank you, judges.”

 

“HUGE HUGE shout-out to the staff in 5 Core Unit of the Intensive Care Unit at University of Louisville Hospital. They have waited on me hand and foot during my stay here and have done it with a “Service with a Smile” atmosphere. It would not be fair to name names, since there were many of them and the beauty is, many would rather not be mentioned anyway. Classic unsung heroes. You factor in the Medical Team that has stayed with me patiently throughout my recovery and you have a recipe for success. I can see why my nephew, a medical doctor himself, highly recommends them. A big THANK YOU is in order to these people who make a difference in our lives.

 

Comment away, Gang. No, I’m not getting autographs from the Madison players. I won’t go that far.

 

“What can I say? I need to use more Pam and canola oil next time. I appreciate the judges’ honesty as they’re only trying to make me better. I’ve chewed out a nose guard for not wrapping a guy when he’s tackling him. It’s all in the execution.”

 

“You callin’ me a candy ass???? Shoot, you couldn’t ride an ostrich through the Picnic Area!!!!!”