This Week in Milford

January 20, 2020

Bonking @ Central

Filed under: actual action, basketball, freak hands, Pantheon of Mysterious Objects — nedryerson @ 5:50 am

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Panel 1 is Chris Schuring having had a better game than he’ll admit to? Yeah, I guess I can see that, but instead I’m looking at what Chris has in his freak hand. Is it a roll of scotch tape?

The actual action today is the Lady Mudlarks with yet more of Alexa Watson’s development as a player. She’s tossing up bricks but her teammate/bestie is offering encouragement. Is it just me, or are both of these wannabe valedictorians (so, they’re seniors) not worth all the effort. Surely there are other players on the benches that actually have a head for the game.

Those legs in Panel 3 are not right. They belong on a rugby pitch.

January 17, 2020

Stat caring its a Milford thing

Filed under: actual action, basketball — robmize2013 @ 10:51 pm

More exciting hoops action against a familiar foe – Madison. 2 plays in an otherwise yawner of a conference game finds the Larks prevailing, and another player looking at the stat sheet in the locker room. I never played high school basketball, but I guarantee that not ONE player looks at a stat sheet in the locker room after the game. Sure as Columbus discovered America. And if someone else knows how many points said player scored, well, thats another pipe dream. Nobody gives a crap. They shower, check their Snapchat sites, and mosey on home or to the bus for the ride home. Kids know who’s good and who isnt. They dont need validation from a piece of paper.

January 10, 2020

Basketball on ice

Filed under: actual action, basketball, Mimi Thorp, Steve Luhm's Ghost Mops These Floors — robmize2013 @ 8:38 pm

In all the years I’ve read this strip, one of my pet peeves is the players wearing their game uniforms to practice. Its happened many times, and unless the school pays extra for 2 sets of uniforms for each player (which I severely doubt), its merely a comic strip habit, because there isnt one school who also does this. You wear sweats to practice in the real world.

I love how Alexa is defense-first. Every hoops coach worth his salt will say you rest on offense and work on defense. But most players dont wanna play D; theyd rather camp out at the 3-point line and bomb away, or go to the hoop and ram it down someones throat, then beat their chest down the court mugging for the crowd as an opponent races past them to score an easy put-back.

Mimi has to encourage her to get more involved at the offensive end, apparently because she thinks she’s still 14 and clumsy. But I dont think Bambi on the ice could play defense very well either. Speaking of which, we’ve been harping on how glassy the floors look since Steve Luhm took over as janitor, and now we’re getting a reference to ice and a blue floor that resembles an ice rink.  Theyre gonna need Yac-Trac cleats to practice on that stuff, which are pullover rubber soles with cleats underneath.

Image result for yak track cleats

I actually have a pair to use at my job as a mailman in the winter, and darned if we’re not getting an ice storm tomorrow so I can give em a workout.  Cant wait til the Larks have home-ice advantage.

January 7, 2020

You Go Shootin’ While I Go Fetch A Player.

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Well, you shoot the ball

And I’ll go recruitin’, Honey

You swish the nets

And I’ll do some callin’, Babe

You line it up down the free throw hole

I’ll go fishin’ with my crawdad pole

For players, tall and fine

 

Gang, WHERE did Phoebe Keener come from? Was she one of those guest stars that popped out of the woods on Gilligan’s Island?

“Skipper, I just saw another Mudlark down by the lagoon. She was working on her lay-ups.”

“Oh, Gilligan, you’ve had too much of that coconut juice again. Why don’t you go lay down in the shade, Little Buddy, and get some rest?”

Why get on the phone, Mimi, and attempt to get more players when they seem to be coming out of your linen closet? Besides, isn’t that what TRYOUTS are for? Then you’ll never have to look in your shower stall again for a center who can score and rebound.

 

I was intrigued by You and the Law, a fascinating read on the different facets of the law. The Yale Professor of Law who wrote it made an especially interesting observation on the fact that you couldn’t appeal to your State Supreme Court for issues such as traffic fines (basically appeals on a State’s Constitution are heard) . Soooooooooooo

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Will Not Pursue DUI Case In Milford Superior Court!!!!!!!!!!!!! Will Enroll In Defensive Driving School In March!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I still think I got a raw deal on my Constitutional rights. Making me walk a straight line while I got Wrigley’s Spearmint in my mouth? Where’s the justice?”

 

As long as players are going to come out of Brigadoon, I might as well point out that Phoebe and that Harding defender couldn’t execute the Pee Wee Herman Dance any better than in P1. Mimi, having trouble locating players with some moves and good court vision? Look no further than this game. See, if you look within your own camp, it’s amazing what you can find. And all you need now is a record player to play that sax rendition of the dance, and an outlet to plug in the record player, naturally.

 

Well, you text a line

And I’ll go beggin’, Honey

No lane violations

And I’ll be a suck-ass, Babe

You pop the 3 down in the hole

I’ll be in the hallways with my crawdad pole

Honey, this takes time

 

And what OTHER entity could that be in P1 than The Blob returning to eat a player or fan or two? Sheesh, no wonder why Mimi can’t get anybody to play on the team. And what is St. Elmo’s Fire doing other than aiding in abetting with The Blob in devouring a fan who’s holding the “Kick the Shit out of Milford” (musta slipped a 20 to the security when he paid his admission ticket) ? If there’s one thing us Thorpiverse veterans can always count on, it’s a conglomerate of the Shadow People who have been pasted together for over 60 years. And the beauty is, the Harding fans and the Milford fans aren’t sitting in their separate clumps, er, sections. Yeah, I’m afraid the Shadow People or The Blob does not discriminate. Mudlark fans have been eaten at a steady rate along with Oakwood fans, New Thayer fans, etc. for 6 decades.

“Gil, where’s Jaime and Keri?”

“I don’t know. They were here just a minute ago. Yuck!!!!! What’s that giant red piece of Play-Doh doing on the verandah?”

 

If ya gotta use somebody’s jumper cables ta fish yore shotgun outta the crawdad hole that landed there cause ya tripped on some fresh deer droppings and ya pay the man a 6-pack of Bud for his successful efforts, ya might be a?redneck.

“Coach, I heard you need a power forward for the team.”

As Gil gets up from humping Mimi

“I do, but next time, don’t climb through the window. We’ll fix the door handle, I promise.”

 

And then we have Cindy Brady a/k/a Susan Wilcox-Olson who appears to give the Lady Mudlarks an outside scoring threat. Okay, Mimi, I understand you were desperate and had to enter the Milford Interdenominational Church for Susan’s wedding ceremony to beef up the roster (“…with this ring, I thee wed EXCUSE ME WE NEED YOU IN THE LINEUP, MRS. WILCOX-OLSON) , but couldn’t it have waited to change the surname from Olsen to Olson at the Milford City Clerk’s until after the game? If she can shoot, let her fire away, we’ll take care of the details later. I know we gotta reverse her maiden name and married name EVENTUALLY, let alone spell her maiden name correctly, but if Mimi needs Rolaids and needs it now, you don’t spell relief “B-U-R-E-A-U-C-R-A-C-Y”. You got a chance to win the game, Mimi, don’t blow it on a technicality.

 

On the S.S. Enterprise

“Scotty, see if you can maneuver a little closer to Xeneid. I understand the gasses are not noxious enough to allow us to penetrate the biosphere.”

“I don’t know, Captain, the ship won’t sustain much more with that magnetic field at our throats. And we are being fired upon even as we speak.”

“Spock, have you had many dealings with the people?”

“They’re not known to create problems with negotiations, if that’s what you are indicating. I can print out a communications cable-”

That notorious danger siren is sounding. Everybody is frozen. The door opens.

“Spock, is that one of their citizens?”

“I’m not sure. May we help you?”

“Yes, I understand the Milford Lady Mudlarks need a point guard off the bench in case Phoebe Keener needs a rest. Did I press the wrong button?”

 

 

And SOMEBODY CAN COUNT. Yes, there are 2 legs attached to each human torso in P2, although one player didn’t take her Rolaids and wound up with Club Foot. It must be hard to do lay-ups during warm-ups.

And minus points for the crotch shot of the coach. When The General was leading the 1976 Hoosiers to the National Championship, Scott May and Quinn Buckner and Kent Benson didn’t take orders from The General’s private collection. Couldn’t you see somebody’s crotch in Cream and Crimson? Didn’t think so.

 

You bomb it away

And I’ll grovel with my pleas, Honey

You drive baseline

And I’ll be petitioning, Babe

Shoot and-one from the ball you stole

I’ll fish at The Bucket with my crawdad pole

Honey, this 2-guard is mine

 

I love Diana Hacker and her ideas on style when writing is priceless. Not a day goes by that I don’t read something from her.

And right now, she would have a cow on how the sentence from P2 leads into P3.

If I’m getting the gist of the matter, Alexa “Don’t you dare call me ‘Gauss'” Watson is passing to Susan Olson-Wilcox-Olsen-in-the-Brady-Bunch-credits for the go-ahead score, THEN LATER passes to Phoebe Keener for an insurance score. Fair enough.

But of course, Thorpiverse has Hacker steamed because the way the sentence is structured, Susan Brady is getting the ball to score then subsequently sending it to Phoebe for another score. The way the modifiers are mangled, Harding is owed a possession which is unlikely to be settled so Milford will likely win because literary style went the way of Chris’ street clothes in the previous tete-a-tete with Coach Thorp. Amazing how many games Milford has won in 60 years riding the miscarriage of justice.

“That’s a split infinitive.”

“Game, set, and match, Thorp.”

 

Tomorrow’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Miffed Over Being Informed That State Supreme Court Will Not Hear Case!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I was NOT double-parked in front of the Milford Lounge. The farmer’s pick-up had a flat.”

 

And dangling modifiers aside, I like Phoebe’s Hokey-Pokey with the ball

You shoot with both hands in

You shoot with both hands out

You shoot with both hands from your chest

And you shake things all about

 

You do the funky lay-up

Then you turn yourself around

That’s how the game will turn out.

 

Game won by choppy sentences and a poor rendition of the Hokey-Pokey. Hey, an ugly win is better than a pretty loss.

 

 

Because I love to cook and was fascinated with all the combos with white grapes you could partake of

 

“And Marcia passes to Cindy over to Jan cross-court pass to Wilma who finds Betty on the baseline who kicks it out to Reggie for 3…”

BOOM BABY

“And Slick, Harding has called a time-out to talk things over. With 3:52 left in the 3rd quarter, it’s the Pacers, 89, Harding 86, the Pacers on a 12-2 run. We’ll have more on the Fan Duel Scoreboard in a moment, this is Mark Boyle and you’re listening to the Pacers Radio Network.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this week is National Wine Week right here in good ol’ Milford. Now I realize that many cities all over the country have their own Wine Week but the way Milford Beverage Warehouse looks at it, soaking in The Good Life is a year-round venture anyway.

Hi, this Coach Thorp and Man o Man, have I got some deals for you. Right here in our own backyard, Milford Valley is selling their premium White Wine Supreme at a door-busting $7.99 a bottle. Good golly Miss Molly, I’ll be knockin’ a few heads myself to get to the wine rack. Boy, I can imagine myself in my chaise lounge on the verandah, sipping on a glass of that good drinkin’ while munching on Mimi’s tuna-and-walnut casserole and indulging in creamed mayo caramel for dessert. Why use Pepto-Bismol when Milford Valley can churn your stomach just fine?

Then you discriminating connoisseurs will appreciate La Marca wines in select varities. Mmmmmm, mmm, I can taste that merlot as I down my Jif Chocolate Peanut Butter sandwich at the Milford PTA Parents’ Night Out. And with Key Lime pie for dessert, at $15.99 a bottle, I’ll have to admit I’m glad Jaime and Keri aren’t around.

But wait, there’s more. Woodbridge Grenache and arugala just hits the spot after a long day on the phone asking the scout at The Bucket who looks like a true center at the drive-in booth. Top both with Mrs. Butterworths and you can pitch your flapjacks in the garbage disposal. For $9.99 a bottle, I’ll dump all my Eggos in my freezer box in the basement down the drain.

But don’t get namby-pamby on me and believe that Milford Beverage Warehouse is nothing but a wine-infested rat-hole for the quiche-and-brie crowd. We still have a wide selection of Budweiser, Coors, Michelob, Miller High Life, Falls City, Blatz, Schlitz, you name it, we got it and in mass quantities. Bring your Milford Beverage Warehouse Visa Card and name your multiple. Only your trunk will limit your 18-pack purchases.

In fact, our deal of the week is Maker’s Mark Whiskey at an eye-popping $22.99 a bottle. At that price, I’ll cram all the Eggos in my toaster and with that Mrs. Butterworth Syrup, Breakfast in Avalon is a cinch.

But come see for yourself and get your own Lance Sour Cream Crackers off the gum rack while going through the line to purchase your Milford Valley White Wine. I think you’ll agree, Heaven is just a sip away. Only at the Milford Beverage Warehouse.”

 

Gang, have at it. I’m going to check Dick Vitale’s Basketball Lexicon again. I had trouble with the word “deuce”. I thought Dickie V was talking about a card game. I want to make sure this time when he calls Susan Brady a “diaper dandy”, he’s not talking about Pampers.

 

“…and you shoot for the goal

I’ll check Gil’s closet with my crawdad pole…”

 

At The Bucket one night

“Hi, I’m Melba, and I’ll be your waitress. What can I get for you?”

“Have you ever thought about playing onnthe basketball team? We need a guard-forward.”

 

 

 

 

January 6, 2020

The Harding, They Fall?

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The Lady Mudlarks are squaring off against the Lady Raiders from Warren, Ohio. Neal has been pitting Milford against teams in Eastern Ohio lately. Maybe he’s going to retire to Cleveland.

As much as we sometimes gripe about a lack of sports action in Gil Thorp. I must admit that three panels of nothing but sports action can leave me with little inspiration to comment. The floors are shiny. The ponytails are out in force. Alexa looks like she’s actually executing a layup in the first panel. The other two panels show aggressive defense. OMG, it’s like fundamental basketball. That’s good, right?

Well, good luck Alexa and gang. Repel those Raiders!

December 30, 2019

Schuring Bonks It

Filed under: actual action, Gil Thorp — nedryerson @ 4:48 am

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The lesson Chris Schuring has learned is not to hesitate, to take the shot. Gil is satisfied that he’s done some awesome coaching, despite the outcome of the game in Springfield.

Will Chris apply this approach in dealing with DeMarco & Associates or in his valedictorian campaign? Has Coach Thorp released a beast on MHS? Nah, this “teachable moment” will likely not advance (or play any role whatsoever in) the plot. The readers want to see some occasional coaching so here’s your occasional coaching. See you in the cafeteria for more weak ass plot noodling.

As far as “the shot we wanted” goes, I’m not sure that panel one looks like a shot that’s desirable in any circumstance other than desperation. Maybe that’s supposed to be the follow through on a jumper? Who can tell? Forget it Ned. It’s Springfield.

December 27, 2019

Gil is a dumb coach, right?

Filed under: actual action, Gil Thorp, Milford Weirdos — robmize2013 @ 10:29 pm

I have no idea why Gil is talking About Chris instead of To Chris, when he’s in the damn huddle.!  Is that the only way he responds? Like being a fly on a wall only he speaks and walks. Hey Fly- you know we’re talking about you, but you wont listen any other way, so we’ll tell another player to tell you what to do. What happened to drawing up a play on a whiteboard and addressing the WHOLE TEAM?

We just go from one shitfest to another. And whoopee, we scored a basket to take the lead. How many days does it take to play this damn game? It may take a week to get home.

I thought the last bunch was weird. This dude here; he may be a species all his own. He even shoots a layup like a jumpshot– with his eyes closed!

 

December 26, 2019

His Head Is Cupcake City, Baby.

Filed under: actual action, basketball, Just plain sad, Pantheon of Mysterious Objects — tdrewhardin @ 8:43 am

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Old-timers like me will remember how popular Ann Landers and Abigail Van Buren(“Dear Abby”) were back in the ’60’s, ’70’s, and ’80’s. They were twin sisters who did separate advice columns for their respective newspapers which ran nationwide on the syndicate route, not sure which one ran in the morning and which one ran in the evening. At any rate, they had an understandably spirited rivalry which turned bitter from time to time which newspaper companies loved because it got the readership they wanted. Advice on topics that were many times controversial plus occasional finger-pointing at each other? Hell, yeah, the newspaper industry loved it because that package just SOLD.

That said, I remember as a kid in the ’70’s when my sister and I are reading Ann Landers (or Dear Abby, can’t remember which) and this one woman writes to say how she and her mom are engaged in furious combat because her mom is angry at her because this daughter-writer won’t wear a bra. Get off my case, Mom, I’m a liberated woman, was the gist of the letter. Her mom shoots back that she’ll get Cooper’s Droop and wind up in Hell.

Well, I don’t think she was at Judgment Day, bra-less, victimized by sagging gourds being told “Depart from me, for I never knew you”, but we learned from Ann Landers, after my sister and I are finished laughing our butts off,  that Cooper’s Droop is an actual term and that if you could lodge a pencil under your breast and it stayed there all day, you definitely were inflicted with the concept.

I can’t remember the advice Ann Landers gave but she and Dear Abby were popular because many times their advice was sound and Ann’s response to this letter was no exception.

With that in mind, if that net in P1 doesn’t have a serious case of Cooper’s Droop, I need to stop writing on this site and pick up where Dear Abby left off (“Dear T. Drew, my coach, Gil Thorp, coaches like his brain has Cooper’s Droop…”) . Marcell is dunking on what was once a waste can in Gil’s office. How Gil ever managed to rip the ring off the can and attach a mesh that was once Mimi’s dress is truly an engineering feat of the 21st century. I’ll have to keep those techniques in mind when I’m building a basketball goal in my backyard. Dunk away, Irby, you’re a part of history. Oh, and tie game, that’s a bonus.

 

Shout-out to Nikki Rand of Louisville who works as a driver at Pizza Hut on Lower Hunters Trace and Dixie Highway. Her go-getter attitude is contagious and her determination to succeed is truly a blessing and makes the company a better store. She also catches on quick so when orders and food items need to be invoiced, she does it efficiently and intelligently. I can see her as a leader in the future. She represents America because she is a smart cookie who wants to do the job right. Gang, next time you see her, salute her. She has my respect as to what America needs.

 

Then, Gang, we have another entry in Pantheon of Mysterious Objects. Thorpiverse would have you believe that that is a light on the ceiling, enlightening the scene, Cooper’s Droop-inflicted baskets with glass backboards included.

Thorpiverse has you fooled.

You’re not pulling one over my eyes, Thorpiverse. We know that it is either a gigantic cake pan that the Betty Crocker cement truck from time to time fills with tons of cake mix to make, for example, wedding cakes to accomodate the Wedding at Cana the constituents of which are watching the game when Mudlar-K-Cola isn’t being turned into wine or Lost in Space truly got lost and landed in Springfield by mistake. Oh, well, might as well watch a Springfield schmuck get Cooper’s Drooped on, courtesy of Marcell Irby. Gil’s waste basket won’t have a cigar stub in its container after Irby does some serious flushing on that Droopy of a goal.

“Hello, Toommm and Jeerrrryyy, my nammmeee is Drooopppyyy-”

DUUUUUUNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKK

And the guy pumping the fist is certainly displaying his seal of approval. I’d hate to know that he is not a member of the small contingent of Mudlark fans attending the game and is turncoating and Cooper’s Drooping the Springfield fan base. Be true to your school, the Beach Boys used to always say.

 

If yore bloodhound’s ears are infect-id with Cooper’s Droop and yuz can hide yore ammo in his ear flaps fer days until bow season fer coons cuz yore bloodhound’s ears contains more tics and tapeworms than the flea medicine frum Milford Veterinary Clinic kin handle, ya might be a redneck.

 

Gang, those of you who follow the NBA should be familiar with this rule called the “Mark Jackson Backdown Rule”. As a Pacer point guard during the ’90’s, Jackson would back his man down in the paint for up to 15 seconds per possession. Bearing in mind that the Pacers only had 9 seconds to shoot and hit iron (24-second shot clock, remember) and that it was generally boring basketball to watch a guy bulldoze his way to the bucket methodically, the NBA implemented the rule I mentioned above. The lowdown was a player could not play with his back to the basket while dribbling the ball when he was below the free throw line for more than 5 seconds. The rule essentially was a 5-second possession violation overall (i.e., mainly in high school and college, the bottom line was pass it or shoot it within 5 seconds or it was a turnover) and helped make the game a lot more exciting. It was annoying to watch a lot of players steamrolling the opposition with the ball and even MORE annoying when all this bull-in-a-china-shop ballhandling didn’t result in a score. Fans would stomach a bully with the roundball if it meant a dunk, otherwise…

But that’s what’s on the table today as Chris “Shaq in a china shop” Schuring is about to back down Herman “Apple Top” Munster IV in a key possession. And Shaq might have gotten away with several knockdowns in the 3-second area (though I highly respected his game) but no way did Shaq EVER grace the floor, either as a Magic or a Laker displaying those ugly socks Chris has on. Did he raid his mom’s lingerie drawer and drag out some L’Eggs from the ’70’s and dance with John Travolta under the disco ball in those things?

And surely Appleknocker Pate doesn’t have his hand on Chris’ derriere. We’re worrying profusely about the trapezoidal footwear without being concerned that if the refs don’t call hand-checking, the defense of the dribbler might get a little more personal. If ol’ Apple Knob’s Cooper’s Droop extends to his hands, Chris might be literally caught with his pants down while backing his man down in the paint. I’m gonna go groovin’ so ya better get movin’, indeed.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Cochran Rushed To Milford General After Head Caught In Trunk While Loading Case Briefs!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“O.J.: I told him one of these days that Fuji Apple would get him killed. A lotta times, he used to bang his head on my condo entrance.”

 

Now allow me to pick apart P3 because I know it’s a little confusing. Chris is wanting you to THINK that the Springfield player has the ball and he’s wanting the Springfield players to think the Springfield player has the ball but actually he is threading the needle for a DALE DAVIS DUNK (Boyle, you and Slick worked that to a frenzy) while Spike Lee is sitting with Mimi in the stands, right behind Joe Fan’s sit-down crotch shot, yelling SOMEONE GET ON MILLER, and Chris wants you and the Springfield defense to THINK that the Springfield player is going to steal the ball and go down the other end for a DALE DAVIS dunk while the nearest Mudlark has Cooper’s Droop in his jock strap but actually that pass will glance off of Spike Lee’s goatee and ricochet to the Milford center for a MARCELL IRBY DUNK and resulting in Cooper Drooping even more and that Gil’s waste basket will become a Nerfhoop for his kids to play with in the hallway of their home, the damn thing so bent out of shape and resembling Apple Top’s sneakers but that’s the way Coach Thorp drew it up in the playbook.

Would you like for me to repeat that?

 

Mark Boyle and Bobby “Slick” Leonard broadcasting the Mudlarks

“…there appears to be some consternation as the Springfield player got his hair caught in the rim while executing an 180. I’ve never seen anything like that, Slick.”

“Boy o boy, Mark, Artis Gilmore performed some nasty windmills when I was coaching the Pacers against him in the ABA but he never got his afro stuck in Gil’s waste basket.”

“This is REALLY Cooper’s Droop as the Springfield guy is hanging out in no-man’s land. Looks like the Knicks after Reggie drained a 3 on ’em. Slick, I think we better go to a commercial break, with the score after 3, Springfield, 49, Milford, 47. We’ll be for the 4th quarter in a moment.”

 

Because I’m still a little fuzzy on the concept of Direct Cremation that a local funeral home is advertising

“Nobody likes to think about dying. Lord knows after several centuries, it could be any day before My Lord and Savior calls me Home.

Hello, this is Dr. Pearl with Milford Funeral Solutions and I have some wonderful news for you. You may choke the chicken eventually but at Milford Funeral Solutions you will not be left high and dry when they burn your dead corpse at the stake.

Milford Funeral Solutions works with the latest advanced technology when you or a loved one wish to be cremated. The Puro-Fire Technique assures those in doubt that the Dearly Departed will dearly depart. No mess, no loose bones in the casket after emerging from the crematorium. Fires that would burn the country of Uganda on a rainy day laced with a chemical, phenyltetraheliomethanol, guarantee that nobody’s rear end will be singed while entering the Elysian Fields. According to an article in the current Milford Mortuary Science Monthly, one funeral home was compelled to use a Zippo lighter to finish the task at hand.  I’m not sure how you feel about this but if my second cousin-twice-removed-fifth-generation had to be soaked in Match-Lite to start the grill, his service as an armed guard in the Peasants’ Revolt came to naught. Leave Indirect Cremation for the grilled barbecue chicken at your family reunion.

And cost is no problem. Easy payment plans are available to sustain the distress you go through, knowing that your relative will literally be going up in smoke. Bring in 2 pay stubs from your job plus your latest tax returns and financing a funeral pyre is a snap. Your relative is a good as reduced to ashes in Gil’s waste basket.

Come see for yourself and see why Milford Funeral Solutions says “You earned ’em, we burned ’em.”

 

Gang, it’s all yours. I’m going to diagram that play in P3 and see if we can reverse the ball.

 

“That took a nasty cut. You might want to shave it off and let it grow back. Reggie will be out of town for 3 months, you oughta be good.”

 

“Mimi, if you’re not careful, you’re going to get Cooper’s Droop.”

“Gil, I have plenty of Playtex’s in the bureau. Quit your whining.”

“I was talking about your basketball season.”

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