The green green grass of December

Whoopee- back to football now that Chet Chit Chat has received his comeuppance, and although the fans in the stands are dressed for near-winter the grass on the gridiron shows no signs of turning brown like every other Midwest-based grass does when the warm air turns cold and the sunlight is much more minimal. Sunlight is very underrated when it comes to grass appearance. In the summer the sun is up  for about 14 – 15 hours a day, plus the light is more direct with its  path starting due east and going directly overhead at noon, providing much more intensity even though its actually farther from the earth in summer then winter. Then it majestically sets due west, taking its time and sqeeezing every bit of its daylight out before dissappearing. Even then its light lingers for a while, and sunset-watching is a fine way to spend a summer evening. By the time its completely dark out, its almost bedtime.

By winter the sun is rising in the southeast, and takes a much more angled approach in the sky as it peaks at just-above- eye level before hurrying down to set in the northwest, its extreme angle explaining why it gets dark so quick this time of year. One minute its broad daylight, then bam- dark. No twilight in December to speak of. I deliver the mail outside in a truck, and believe me, when its 4 o clock I can feel the light just fading away almost immediately and the temperature drop, and my dome light is needed almost every day now. Daylight is our friend these days, because it doesnt stay long.

So the grass feeds off the warm sun and temps, and when those resources dissapate around November,  it loses its green hue and turns brown, preparing itself to survive the cold and dark winter in a frozen ground caused by the much colder night temps; so it can grow again in spring when the warmer air re-awakens its roots. Nature is fun to watch if you pay attention.

So in Milford-land the grass stays green all year round, and the Mudlarks are still celebrating beating tomato cans like Valley Tech, and heading to the Bucket to toast Charlie and Chance for being the 2-headed monster the offense needs in the backfield. Huzzah!!

This storylines’ a real turkey

The story drags on with Marty basically jumping off Ballards ship, much like Clarence Boddicker and Dick Jones partnership fell apart in RoboCop after Clarence involved Jones in his criminal doings.

Hopefully Chet will only go to jail and not wind up fired like Dick Jones in the end– maybe Chief Lind will do the honors this time.

New month. Same old problems

A week after we last played a game the only thing thats changed is the calendar. The Mudlarks are predictably rusty after the layoff that was all about improving Chet Chitchats attitude toward the running of the football team, and he’s still bitching about Gils use of his china doll Charlie Roh. Hey Chet — you are a parent, not a coach. You dont get to decide who plays. This isnt about massaging egos. Its about winning and displaying sportsmanship, neither of which are in evidence here.

P1 looks like the Larks  called a screen pass,  letting the linemen in and throwing over them while the O-line is blocking downfield. But evidently the pass isnt high enough, and is a pick 6. Big deal. But in Milford land we go from that to 30-7. The roof caved in in 1 panel. We take a week to watch Marjie go over the mysterious phone message, then we skip over a 2-hour game in 1 panel. Dont you love the pace of this strip? Consistent as fresh cement.

By the time Chet looks back at the field the players will be back on the bus.

** With all the recent drawings of Marjie I thought I’d see if there were any errors of consistency by the artist. I thought maybe her hair length was longer in a couple panels but not really. But I did find something– Oct 24 she has 2 bracelets on her left wrist walking in to talk to Gil, and Oct 25 she only has a single wristwatch on that left hand. Otherwise she was drawn pretty much the same.

1, 2, 3, KICK THIS PLOT!!!

And we’re off to the races as we are seeing some football after Gil’s wandering 40 weeks in the desert. And with a lot on the line, there is admittedly some excitement building.

But what better way to experience the equivalent of a hangover than to realize Thorpiverse will find a way to rain on Milford 60th Annual Thanksgiving Day Parade. Maybe Bullwinkle will survive as a float. One can hope.

Still, I’m crossing my fingers that all will be well and that there will be no hitches as two giants have it out on the gridiron in the middle of November. If you’re a football fan, especially high school, you can’t ask for a better script, literally and otherwise.

Even if the Jefferson kicker is catapulting his foot in a perpetually clockwise position so the we learn how the formula 2pi × r was invented, I still think we are on the Royal Road to Football Sanity. Let no man ignorant of designing a decent football plot enter these doors.  Plato couldn’t have said it any better.

So the next time you see your grandma imitate Big Ben with her lower appendages while she’s shopping in the Dairy Department at Wal-Mart, faint not. She will learn, eventually, that the whole is equal to the sum of inane plots and greater than any one of them. She’s just got to see the Big Picture when contorting your tibiae to conform to circumference. The game is bigger than your grandma’s butt or legs, hey, I’m not going to pull teeth even if this plot is doing exactly that.

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Parade Float Blows Away, Winds Up On O.J.’s Condo Property!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“When I saw it, I’m wonderin’ how did Raggedy Ann land on my Maserati? The helium ruined the timing chain in my car.”

One thing we have learned thus far. Jefferson is displaying Nike’s new line of cleats, the Cycloid Hurricane special. Those cleats come in handy should Tropical Storm Marty ever hit Milford the way it hit the coastline.

And haven’t we had enough geometry for one season? I have seen more polylaterals on a guy’s hi-top Keds in one game than I ever dream existed in my Geometry I textbook in one semester.

“DOUG FLUTIE HEAVES IT!!!!!!!!!!! AND BOSTON COLLEGE WINS ON A MIRACLE CAT-dude, look at those trapezoids on that receiver’s shoes. I didn’t know Pic-Way sold those in burgundy.”

 

If ya win the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Turkey Shoot ‘n’ Scramble at the Milford Conser-va-shun Club cuz yore opponent’s shotgun got disqualified cuz the rules disallow all weaponry, including Bowie knives, from displayin’ green clovers and blue diamonds plus whatever the hell else they cram in the Lucky Charms box at Milford Paper & Box factory, ya might be a redneck.

 

Now don’t let Thorpiverse fool ya. The game is getting interesting which is hoping it will lull the TWIMers into a false sense of security. Does anybody REALLY think the plot calls for Jefferson to run up the score, thereby rendering Bluto Beardsley Ballard essentially useless for future concerns? Yeah, right.

As long as his son gets 334 yards and a couple of nice TD runs, Jefferson could put the 4th string in the 3rd quarter when they’re up 234-21 and you aren’t going to hear a word out of Bluto. Not to us readers, anyway. Maybe to his son, building him up as the next Red Grange. And MAYBE to Gil, saying he sucks as a non-coach. MAYBE.

But as Franku pointed out, there are parents that just want their own little Johnny or Janie to succeed, teamwork be damned. God, I encountered plenty of those in my career.

So anybody wishing to challenge me that Chet will disappear because the plot took the “let the cards fall where they may” route and that fair play will rule even if Jefferson does wind up kicking Milford’s ass, albeit not by a ridiculous score mentioned above, boy, do I have some shopping baskets from Milford Beverage Warehouse to sell ya cheap. You can always put your marigolds in there when you’re not shopping for vodka and Chee-tos.

The score will be dictated by where Bluto fits in the scheme of things. Yup, he not only evidently has the School Board wrapped around his finger and the Superintendent as a drinking buddy, he’s also twisting the plotline’s arm.

Buy hey, he can always spare a shopping basket for the Superintendent to store his vacation photos when the latter and his wife went to the Cayman Islands from the trip they won on Wheel of Fortune.

“So tell us a little about yourself.”

“I’m a spineless school official who handles brutes with fleas in their beards and a heavy dose of B.O. in order to keep the education process functional.”

“Wow, that must keep you busy.”

 

Gang, any of you Georgia Wrestling on WTBS remember The Fabulous Free Birds, a tag team duo that predictably had “Free as a Bird” by Lynyrd Skynyrd as their mantra when they were introduced? Naturally, they were the good guys and Gordon Solie, the off-gravelly-voiced announcer for years, did his part to build them up.

Not surprisingly, they had a falling out, the way the script many times played out in these things, no doubt taking a cue from Thorpiverse. Anyway, Michael Hays stayed the Good Guy and Terry Gordy became the Bad Guy, calling himself the Dirty White Boy (Foreigner played the song, in case anyone wants to know) and flashing his pillowy gut, sexy in a strange way, every chance he got.

Well, of course, Michael Hays always got a round of applause every time he came out to interview but just about every time he did, Gordy and some flunkee would drag him in the ring and rub his face in the mat. It was entertaining see the different Revlon colors on his cheek every week and many times it caused continuity errors by being on the wrong cheek. Then there were times someone used a charcoal pencil and did graffiti all over his face. They really wanted to get the fans in the 3-row stands in a frenzy over Gordy. Even if they had to use Magic Markers to make his injuries look authentic.

It worked. And the crowd of course cheered on Hays every time he literally got his nose rubbed in it and the Omni, where they wrestled when the Atlanta Hawks were oit of town, was always sold out for this. As Ron Hudspeth, a well-respected newspaper writer for the Atlanta Constitution once said, you can fool some of the people most of tge time.

So when I saw P2 today, I was wondering if that was Gordy doing a number on Tiki Jansen. If Tiki shows up in the cafeteria with Cover Girl Rouge on his face, my suspicions are confirmed.

 

Early one morning on WDIG-TV

“Okayyyyyyyy, Boys and Girls, how many of you want to win free Mudlar-K-Cola Chocolate Fudge Fizz in the 6-Pack Kiddie Size for life?”

YAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYY

“Well, if you do a cannon ball in that kiddie pool of piranhas and don’t get eaten-”

“Bozo, what happened to your face? You got scrapes all over it.”

“Oh that? Well, some mean man with a belly that’s been bathing in Twinkies too long did a really bad thing. But don’t worry, he’ll get what’s coming to him this Friday at the Milford Gardens.”

“Can we come?”

“Well, Boys and Girls, the only way to get tickets is if you stick your head in that lion’s mouth. Now don’t worry, we pulled out his teeth before the show.”

 

Yesterday’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Snoopy Stuck In Sycamore Tree At Milford Country Club Golf Course.”

sub headline

“Golf Pro at MCC: ‘Why couldn’t they have moved the parade to Christmas? We had to move back our Annual Black Friday Golf Shootout-Shotgun Start. We’ll never get Snoopy out before the Mayor does the honorary tee-off.”

 

“Uhhhhhhhh, Bozo, I understand youuuuu have a match with a one Terry Gordy this coming Friday indeed. Care to elaborate?”

“That’s right, Gordon. Friday night, 8:00 P.M. at the Milford Gardens will be a date with destiny. Yeah, Gordy, I saw what you did with Tiki Jansen. Yeah, you thought it was pretty funny when Gil finally did SOMETHING and wiped that tire tread mark off with sandpaper but-”

“Son, it don’t matter where we do our rasslin, ya got the time, I got the muscle ta take you or any of yore other yellow-bellied clowns at the Milford Gardens, Gil’s garage, the Mudlark Girls Gym, wherever-”

“Now hold on, Terry, you’ll get your chance to interview. Folks, we need to take a station break indeed…”

 

Now you have to admit, if P3 is any indication, that we’re in for a doozy of a ball game, even by Thorpiverse’s molasses-sluggish standards. The Jefferson runner in his Howard Twilley Quadrilateral Nike Specials prove that.

It just gets tainted by that connect-the-dot skyline in the background. I mean, really, if I were to use my #2 pencil, the spare I didn’t use at the Milford High School SAT Testing site, I might unfortunately find out that Ursa Major is really a conglomerate of Gil in his shower cap after he had just gotten out of the shower using Head & Shoulders, when all the stars are accounted for? Oops, I forgot Polaris. I wouldn’t anybody to know Gil has hair but no forehead. Well, that’s pretty much the case but that’s supposed to magically reappear if you’ve faithfully been following the pattern in sequence with your #2.

In the end, someone on the Mudlarks surely has Twilleys of his own to keep the score honest. Maybe ones with a frustum?

 

“We’re here, uhhhhhhhhh, talking with Michael Hays and Tiki Jansen. Gentlemen, your visages are not in their proper conditions indeed. Tiki, I understand you’re, uhhhhhh, not too thrilled after Mr. Gordy rubbed your face in the gridiron especially when a one Gil Thorp just stood back and watched.”

“That’s right, Gordon, and Friday night, 8:30 at The Milford Gardens, me and my partner here are going to be taking care of some business. Gil and Terry, you may think this white powder on my face, the kind you line the field with before the game is funny but me and Michael Hays will have the last laugh.”

“Preach it, Tiki. Cuz y’all been flappin’ our jaws about how your gonna run us out of Milford. Well, this Friday, this lipstick on my cheek is gonna come off and it’s gonna go right back on you. Gil, you’re gonna look funny with Maybelline in your hair and on your face.”

Tiki and Michael Hays leave, the 3-row seat audience on WDIG-TV in a lather

“Formidable words, indeed. We’ll be right back after these messages. Don’t go away.”

 

“Man, all this football and rasslin’ is making me dizzy. Of course, you know that stuff’s all fake and I would never hurt Tiki in a million years. I might still stand on the sidelines with my thumb up my ass but I personally witnessed Michael Hays get his scratch mark stenciled in. They had to use Crayolas on Tiki.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse and boy do we have some colorful selections. This coach is going to get a case of Corona Extra in the six-pack variety after this match, er, game, win, lose, or default. And he’s only going to be forking over $7.49. Hey, that’s what happens when you save up all that loose change from the Teacher Retirement Fund and store it in your Sun Tea Jumbo Jar.

And Skrewball Peanut Butter Whiskey? Choosy moms choose this bad boy to unwind after a long day of grocery shopping for the slumber party for the kids this weekend. No Jif is necessary here and it’s a steal at $28.99.

And The Warehouse has some great news. It is opening up its own gas station, right behind the Milford Foundry. Now you can get your booze and a fill-up practically in the same spot. Just head down a few hundred feet and the nozzle is as good as you drinking up The Good Life.

And with a purchase of Budweiser Black Lager, $10.49 by my count, you can earn fuel points when you’re on the go. Just hand the receipt to the clerk in the window and watch the gallons rack up, even on the diesel pump. B truck drivers couldn’t ask for any better.

And you quiche-eating namby-pambies are in for a treat. With a purchase of Josh Cellars Cabernet Sauvignon at $15.99, you not only are robbing the store but you’ll be robbing the pumps with a free fill-up. Lexus, Dodge Ram pickup, Mopeds, whatever vehicle you used to maneuver to the Warehouse, it all pumps thesame when you use those fuel points like a Snickers bar. Man, that’s some good eatin’.

Folks, bring the whole family down here where you can get your Michelob Ultra to hoist along on your next family outing at Mudlark Lake and still watch the kids pump the gas. Sounds like Quality Time to me. Start your own Fuel Points ledger and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

Thank you for your patience, Gang. You all mean everything to me. Our TWIMers are great human beings as well as great commentators. Great combination.

 

CUZ I’M A DIRTY WHITE BOY

 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Gil, head to the Clinic. They have extended for Christmas.”

“Didn’t Foreigner do Cold as Ice?” Gil sings

YOU’RE WILLING TO SACRIFICE OUR LOVE

“Get your butt to The Clinic, Gil.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What A Coincidence. The TWIMers Have Staged Their Own Self-Imposed Punishment.

DUM DA DUM DUM

DUM DA DUM DUM

DUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

“The story we are slogging through is true. The names have been mercifully changed to protect the innocent and our sanity.

On November 5th, 2019, trial was held in the Milford Municipal Court for a one Chance Macy. In a moment, the results of that trial.”

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My eyes are on fire!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Quick, turn off the TV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Hold on, dear, let me get a glass of water, you’ll feel better.”

 

“Hello, this is Joe Sharkey with The Shark Law Office. George Smutfield was one sick puppy after his frontal retina plantar discs were reduced to ashes after being subjected to a Chance Macy Marathon on WDIG-TV. His pupils became Play-Doh at the juncture where Dr. Pearl was due-processing Chance to Milford Boys Reformatory.”

“I just couldn’t take it anymore. I had to rinse out my corneas after Chance got a paddling, with the science teacher Gil dragged out of Advance Chem Lab, because Chance said Gil couldn’t coach a tandem bike even with handles on. Thank God Chance didn’t say he saw Gil’s crack, like I did, when he was fixing the spokes or I would have had to wash my corneas in Palmolive. Thanks to the aggressive tactics of The Shark Law Office, WDIG-TV settled out of court for $4,548,920,601. Thanks, Shark.”

“Ouch. My eyeballs are in dire need of Visine after listening to that testimonial. But there was a happy ending as you can see.

Insurance companies are hard at work to cover for the couch potatoes who are defenseless against bad programming. Don’t wait until The Joker sinks Batman and Robin in a sulfuric acid bath to get the money you deserve. Call 1-FON-THE-JAWS today. One call, that’s all.”

 

“The Milford Municipal Court accepted the self-inflicted punishment engineered by Chance Macy after Chance had violated Milford Penal Code 134, Section 9, Article 57 “Intolerable Activities that can and many instances indeed lead to Unwarranted and Unforeseen Implications, including Excessive Maudlin Circumstances and General Incorrigible Apathy, which is punishable by 5 years of Incarceration in said comic strip or a fine of $123,000 or both.”

 

“Chance Macy is now serving 3 years in the Flemings’ household and will be compelled to forfeit 25% of his allowance until the $98,345 fine is paid.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Turns Himself In After Shoplifting Incident At 12 Years Of Age!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I couldn’t go on with THAT on my conscience. The Blow Pop was spiked anyway. And Ito’s a fair judge.”

 

Hoo boy. P1 just uttered Ridiculously Obvious Comment of the Year.

Who ELSE was going to bench Chance after it has become clear, time after time again, that the inmates are running the prison. Couldn’t you see The Shawshank Redemption?

“Warden Norton, I’m going down to The Bucket for that 1/2 off Bucket Steak and Lobster Special. Hard to pass up. Even comes with a salad. Want anything?”

“Yeah, Dufresne, but tell ’em I don’t want tartar sauce this time on that Bucket Grilled Salmon Bowl. Gives me heartburn. Here’s a 50. Keep the change. And don’t forget to shine my shoes when you come back. Me and Hadley are going to a Cubs game this afternoon.”

Spur of the moment, Robmize(ha).

 

I mean, this is just plain silly. After a week of wasting the reader’s time with a practically brazen lack of an invite to investigate Dennis the Menace and why he slugs Ruff every time the poor beast doesn’t eat his Ken’L Ration, our roving reporter morphs into Mr. Rogers?

“Coach, my butt itches something fierce. I gotta take a seat.”

“Hold on, Rick still has some Preparation H left over from that Milford Band Fundraiser Double-Elimination Softball Tournament. Let me go ask him”

As commercial fades to product

“Preparation H helps shrink the swelling of an ego and hemorrhoidal tissues caused by oversweating on an end sweep or off tackle right.  Available OTC at Milford 24-Hour Apothecary today.”

No.

 

“When it’s time to relax

One beer stands clear

Year after year

 

If you’ve got the yards

We’ve got the beeeeeeeerrrrrrr”

 

Miller Time couldn’t get any finer for Chance

 

And nobody more than I is happy for Charlie as he is getting his chance to shine under the bright lights. It always warmed my heart when a kid who was a best-kept secret could overcome things beyond his control to strut his stuff in the public eye.

That said, you KNOW before too long that Loudmouth Ballard will be demanding the game ball after Charlie arguably, at the rate we’re going anyway, chews up the field to the tune of, say, 134 yards, 3 TD’s, as Milford goes on to win, 101-6 (one TD called back because the Mudlarks had 12 men on the field-Chance got a little carried away as a cheerleader-Preparation H will do that, I s’pose) .

 

If ya turn yoreself inta th’ Game Warden after ya killed a ‘coon one day after Bow Season ended but ya eat the contents in yore jail cell and add some Lowry’s Sea Salt ‘n’ Vinegar and share some with Otis the Drunk after he woke up from sleepin’ 12 hours, ya might be a redneck.

Then there’s the scenery. Based upon actual projections and assuming the Madison player to Charlie’s immediate right is not love-fist-bumping Charlie, the second-stringer might have a monster game but not on this play. If this were mathematics and the Convergence Graph were duly employed, Chance will not be asymptomatic here. In plain English, he’s about to get knocked on his ass.

Unless there’s some Arctan function that can ride him out of this trap. Well, as long as Gil isn’t coaching, he might want to employ his trigonometry ratios he learned at Milford Community College. He can teach Law of Cosines while he’s on Coaching Sabbatical.

 

“Coach, I’ve got jock itch bad!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Here, let Lassie lick the wounds. Can you be ready by the 3rd quarter?”

“How ’bout the 4th quarter if I buy the Purina Dog Chow Chicken Flavor?”

“Said and done.”

 

HAVE YOU VOTED!!!!!!!!!! Today’s the day if your area has people running for office. Be sure to get your butt down to the polls if you haven’t already. Remember, you don’t have a right to complain if you don’t exercise Democracy.

 

Hating to repeat myself but oh so true, I love it when a player has faced adversity and then winds up in a feel-good moment as in P3. As a coach, oh, let me count the ways.

That out of the way, it’s a cryin’ shame that Bluto Ballard is primed to ruin this Angels in the Outfield setting. It’s like Ranch Wilder actually WINNING and taking over the Angels or the Mudlark.

AND CHANCE IS BACK ON THE FIELD. WHY HE’S THERE AFTER HE JUST GOT OFF FROM THE MILFORD PRISON FARM LOADING HAY IS BEYOND MY COMPREHENSION. WHY DOESN’T GIL TAKE THE HIGH ROAD AND KEEP CHARLIE IN. THIS IS BAD FOOTBALL, FOLKS.

The generic station manager of WDIG opens the door and walks in

“Ranch?”

Ranch turns around flashing that Pepsodent smile

“Marty’s coming back next week from his flu epidemic. You’re fired.”

YOU CAN’T FIRE ME!!!!!!!!!!!! WE HAD A CONTRACT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M RANCH WILLLLLLDDDDDEEEERRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Easy, Ranch. Remember, less is more. Especially with those truancy records you and Bluto tried to pawn off at the Milford School Board meeting.”

 

Oooooooookkkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back to restore reason to this sad state of affairs. Take the mike, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was soooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought Chance went to the Federal Pen because he committed_____________________ at school.”

 

“And Milford is really running up the score as Coach T. is pulling out all the stops. A new rule in effect this year allows parents of the players to put on a helmet if there are no comparable players available. Looks like Chet Ballard is joining the 4th-string and taking the field. I understand the coaching staff had to use a putty knife to wedge his helmet in with his beard. This comedy of errors gives me an opportunity to take a station break. This is Marty Moon on WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

One late evening at Milford Stor-for-Mor, Door 79

“Honeyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!! I’m hornyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want you to come home with meeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“I can’t now, Mrs. Shaw. I gotta store these records of Chet Ballard when he set the kindergarten teacher’s dress on fire with his Zippo. As long as he is going to pursue Chance Macy with illegal wiretapping, well, two can play at that game.”

“But is it really necessary to have the iron door clamped shut and dead-bolted?”

“Woman, this is top-secret information that not even the Milford Police SWAT team is privy to. Ain’t no way I’m going to let anybody know who Chet’s 3rd-grade teacher was when he flushed her dentures down the toilet. What’s in-house stays in-house.”

“Darling, I know Chet’s a creep but I don’t think a U-Stor-It place is really necessary to conceal Chet’s vaccination records.”

“Shows you how much you know. He was diagnosed with herpes and didn’t tell anybody. Well, I have his prognosis right here that he tried to keep a secret but after I slipped a sawbuck to the secretary at Milford Minor Emergency Clinic, we can store this El Dorado until the appointed time. If Chet so much as reveals Chance’s Snickers purchases at Milford Confectionary, we can blow the whistle pronto. We’ll show him we can reveal his dirty laundry if he starts messin’ with Chance again.”

“I’d like you to reveal something all right.”

“No way am I going to reveal Dr. Pearl’s love tryst with Benjamin Rush. Yet.”

“A man with a padlock has his own dirty laundry to hide. But when he unzips his pants, the padlock does no good.”

“What could I say? I couldn’t hide my Erectile Dysfunction in the U-Stor-It bin. I had to come clean on my problem and glad I did. With treatment programs that work, shouldn’t YOU make a trip to Milford’s Men’s Clinic for your erectile problems? Come on down and let them unlock your potential. Don’t hide it under a bushel or the flame will get smothered and your significant other will be a Crayola. And there’s only so much Bridge you can play with your wife or Omar Sharif. Come to The Clinic and see for yourself. You’ll be glad you did.”

 

Gang, thanks for your patience. One of these days, I’ll get it together. I promise.

 

“Chet’s song flute is in here somewhere. Oh, here it is, under my picture of me and Mario Andretti in ’69.”

 

On a Haley’s M.O. commercial on WDIG-TV one fine day

“How’s your bowels holding out, Chance?”

“M.-O.K., Coach. I dumped a wad in the Port-a-Pot right before your half-time speech. I’ll go in on the next series.”

“That’s fine. If you need some prune juice, let me know.”

Is It Madison Time Already?

Chance Macy is back and look at him go! He’s leaving everyone in the dust!

By the 3rd Quarter, Chance’s ankle is a little sore. How much did the use him up until that point? I assume Milford is leading 27-6 (if the score is shown as Visitor-Home, which is how I usually read such things). So was Chance running all over Madison for the first half and then some? He must be fast.

So now it’s time to see Charlie Roh get some reps. Maybe we’ll find out if Chet and Charlie’s mother made the drive to Madison.

What a big whoop-de doo. At least we have Madison Time (now with funky organ):

Like Father, Unlike Son.

Now we get into the portion of the strip to discover whether Charlie Roh is the real deal. And he doesn’t disappoint. Like that record that Billboard and Creem has been plugging for months, Charlie is good as advertised. I always used to hold my breath every time U2 came out with new music and all the critics were singing its praises. Not that I ever thought the band would lay an egg (you never have, Bono & Company, you’re the best) but when an album gets hyped (The Joshua Tree, Achtung Baby, for example) , you can understandably anticipate the jinx that could possibly ensue.

But like The Joshua Tree, Charlie is more than answering his critics, not that he had any but with a loudmouth stepdad, they’ll be around, if nothing else, to shut up Charlie’s stepdad, the insurance king who has temporarily dethroned himself from Ballard Insurance in order to live his life through his stepson.

What’s galling is that just a few short months ago, Chet Baker, er, Ballard projected himself as one of the pillars of the community as a member of the Milford School Board. Though his modus operandi, particularly in relation to Tiki Jansen was arguably a bit misguided, his reasoning was valid and he was dealing with a lawyer who fit the description of a joke

Q: What’s the difference between an attorney and a catfish?

A: One’s a scum-sucking toady that licks the commodes at the bottom of the plumbing system at Milford High School and the other one’s a fish.

Hadley Viscious, you missed your calling. Look up Joe Sharkey and become a shark just like him. Oh, you might eat each other down the road when Tiki gets injured when a Central guy calls him a squatter. Or his mother goes half on the rent at Milford Public Housing. When working on a best plan of attack to sue or damages, sometimes the devil is in the details.

Anyway, Chet has lowered himself to Overbearing Father, a recurring character that appears quite frequently in Thorpiverse Shakespearean Theater. Talk about Taming of the Shrew. I wouldn’t try to get him married off as a quid pro quo to marrying Hadley Venom. Brush up your Thorpiverse.

Nice TD run, BTW. Nothing like Lassie and Benji playing a Game of Chase with Charlie. I couldn’t fathom those dogs doing that with Bluto, er, Chet Ballard. Well, dogs do pursue snakes in the woods. Never mind.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J.’s Dad Present For MVP Award Presentation At Milford Adult Flag Football League End Of Season Banquet!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Papa was always there to show proper technique on how to elude the linebacker grabbing your flag.”

 

So to paraphrase James Brown (Godfather of Soul LOVE IT) , Papa’s got a brand new barf bag. But his son can run. Congratulations on your first TD run, Charlie. I remember when I was in college when I got my first TD catch (back when I was skinny and athletic, not lugging around the Pro Wrestler’s beer belly like I am now-ha) in intramural flag football. No, it wasn’t a Doug Flutie miracle job but Husker Du was right, these are your important years, you better make them last. I did.

So I can totally relate to Charlie. When it’s your turn to step into the spotlight, do your best to shine. It’s a shame that Chet is the excess baggage a la Frank Sinatra’s mom in a biopic made about him. I remember it well

“…I want to make the most of it/In ol’ New Yoooorrrkkkkk

If I can make it there/I’ll make it anywhere-”

“Oh, that’s my Frankie. I always told him that if he used Colgate Whitening Formula to brush his teeth, wash behind his ears, and close the toilet seat after he dumped a wad, then flush, he’d go far. There’s always an agent looking for someone who freshens the Boys Room stall on the second floor at Milford High School with Renuzit Peach ‘n’ Plum-”

MRS. SINATRA, WILL YOU PLEASE GET OFF STAGE?????????

And that, in my view, is pretty much what’s happening here.

“See, I told ya if you’d start calling me Father Superior instead of Chet Baker, use Sani-Flush in the Port-o-Let, and run from Milford to Oakwood and back, it would put hair on your chest and make you run faster than Hank Finkel. So what if cars were honking when you were in the raw? You were on the other side of the road FACING THE TRAFFIC, so you’re legal. And let those road ragers run in 0 degree weather and see if they’d make it past the city limits. Some couldn’t clear the Milford 7-11-

CRRRRRRAAAAASSSSSSSHHHHHHHH

“Coach, we have a man down on the field.”

“DAMN, what was Mr. Ballard doing out on the field? We got a game. How’d he slip past security?”

“Don’t know, Coach Thorp, but he blindsided the Central running back too. Good thing, our defensive end got burnt on that tailback sweep.”

 

If yore daddy is thar at th’ Milford Con-sur-va-shun Club Bur-Goo ta present yore Most Valuable Bowhunter award and he even remembered that thar’s only one “w” in the word “bowhunter” and didn’t need a lex-ee-con this time ta double check and ya hug like a black bear in heat in Milford Fish & Wildlife Area as a token of good will, ya might be a redneck.

 

And wouldn’t you know it, The Unrelated Twins are back. Tag-teaming like The Assassins used to brutalize the opposition on WTBS Wrestling (Gordon Solie, the unflappable host, RIP) , they are putting the finishing touches on the hapless Central receiver, performing The Bucket Sandwich of your Choice on the poor schmuck. It’s all over but the 3-count. The Central receiver will not shake off Tiki, a la Assassin #1 at the obligatory 2-seconds. BTW, I liked how my dad described The Assassins, they looked ugly with a mask ON their faces.

Well, there’s no sense in trying to mask this charade, it’s like The Assassins getting uglier and uglier the longer they wear the masks. And take that goddamn Confedrate flag off your Southern Tag Title belts. The Civil War has long since been decided.

“You boys, uhhhh, really pummeled your opponents indeed. There was no law and order once you gentlemen stepped into the ring. It was, uhhhh, a real evisceration.”

“That’s right, Gordon. And Friday night, 8:30PM at the Milford Civic Center, we’re going to be taking care of some more business. That’s right, Ole Anderson and Austin Idol, you’ve been flappin’ like Gil’s hair, talkin’ about how nobody can beat you. Well, as the Tilden coach said 30 years ago before Gil quit humping the tackling dummy and settled down and got married, you may be big and bad, but you can be had. The Tilden coach said it was agony watching a grown man with no place to plug it in, let alone with his players watching, finally some linebacker ripped the fuse box off the stadium wall…”

 

And in reality, many people don’t know it but this is Gil’s secret plan to bond players together by having them live under the same roof. Jaquan Case and Pete De Windt. Aardvark and Mike Filion. George and Gracie. Hey, don’t laugh, Gracie was the holder when Milford kicked the extra point while George kicked it straight through the uprights.

The theory is you can’t learn each other’s moves if you don’t learn what they like to mooch out of the fridge, what time at night they wet the bed, what cartoons they watch on TV. By gum, Leonard now knows to get out the way of the basement lavoratory whenever Tiki has downed one Spaghetti O’s can too many and he subsequently chews on multiple X-LX-Lax that he bought in bulk from Milford Apothecary. Leonard also learned that Tiki will body slam him if Leonard attempts to turn on the TV for the WDIG Evening News with Roger Mudd because that’s the time Sesame Street comes on. Leonard found out the hard way that Tiki DOES wet the bed if he misses Bert and Ernie. Oscar the Grouch and Coach Shaw? Both show up just as often. Anyway, all Leonard had to do is take one whiff down the hallway one night and the remote has been set for the letter ‘Q’ ever since.

Come to Jeff Smith Marathon in Edwardsville, Indiana where you get your money’s worth and then some. They just added another clerk, Georgiana, who has turned out to be just as friendly as Crystal and Bre. With smiling faces like these, no wonder why customers keep coming back. Throw in great gasoline and great car repairs at reasonable prices and you have a winning business. On I-64 in Indiana, take exit 118 and head west on Indiana 62 and it is the first left from the highway. Can’t miss it as you can see the building from I-64.

Support Small Business. You need a place where everybody knows your name.

“OK, Gil, I may not like this bonding thing but I’ll do it to take one for the team. But you’re sleeping out in the garage. There’s a king-size for you and Mimi. And a bar which you’re more than welcome to. Just save some Jack in the fridge and clean the chaser glasses. The hose is on driveway side of the garage.”

“Sure, Kaz.”

 

Greg Simmons, You da Man. Your hard work at Shreves Engines in St. Louis does not go unnoticed and in fact is a testament why the place is always so busy. Somebody is ALWAYS coming in. You keep the place hopping and I am always out of there pronto because you bust a gut and you CARE. Sounds like a winning venture to me. Treat Greg with respect, Gang, he’s earned it.

“And Mr. Nosegay said to Lisa Simpson at 38, ‘Ya wanna head to the Yellow Submarine now that Charlie chewed up some real estate?’ And she responded ‘What do I look like, Ringo Starr sleeping in the kitchen by the Hamilton Beach blender at Leonard Fleming’s house?'”

“Gil, it’s bad enough we have to put up with that hornet’s nest in the corner of the garage but give it a rest. You’ll get kicked out of the Milford Elks Club Bingo Night this Thursday, for sure.”

 

And as readers have mentioned, 77 yards is respectable but it ain’t gonna draw interest from some Power 5 school if Chet’s eyes are getting bigger than his tummy at the football smorgasbord. Charlie Roh will land a scholarship at a small Division III school in say, Wisconsin or North Dakota but there’s a world of difference, Chet, between a small town in Wisconsin and Wisconsin itself, a perennial power in its own right.

But let Bluto bask in his own vomit and let him think he is bathing in the lap of luxury. Oh, no, Chet, that’s real water. Bottled straight from the tap at Milford Reservoir. Just keep diving in it, everything will settle and before you know it, Charlie will be running for Alabama next week. And I have Comet in case you need to clean your toes. Wouldn’t want you to gross out while Charlie is dragging the Georgia Bulldog over the goal line. And hit the pylon, Charlie, so the referee will signal “touchdown”. Nick Saban makes guys run laps for taking detours.

 

“And there’s the gun signaling the end of the game. Milford wins it in a gutty effort, 21-10. I’ll have final stats in a moment. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

BAM!!!!!!!!!!!! KAPOWEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! SLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KERPLUNK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOST THEM ON THE GROUND SOMEWHERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“What kind of contacts are they? Bausch & Lomb?”

I’M TALKING ABOUT MY TESTICLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“The Twins racked me pretty good and I was the soloist in the musical ‘Pippin’ next week. I didn’t want to sound like Mickey Mouse doing a rendition of ‘Corner of the Sky’ so I called The Shark.”

“That’s right, folks. Melvin Schmuck had a problem and we attacked Milford High School and their insurance company before you could say ‘Leonard Fleming uses Odor Eaters to get Tiki off his back’. With just compensation, Melvin was able to take advantage of the latest technology in the Ear, Nose, and Throat wing at Central High School Nursing Department and he was good to go. ‘Magic To Do’ as a cakewalk to croon.”

“And I was able to sail through the musical without straining my voice and I even landed a part with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra to sing with Harry Caray ‘Hymn from the Tales of Hoffman’ and ‘Take Me Out To The Ball Game’. I don’t know who was slushier that night but I didn’t plop on the basson player like Harry did. Thanks, Shark.”

“Folks, they don’t have to play for Milford to get the money they deserve. I once engineered a $45,634,702 settlement for Tod Andrews after his car landed in a sewer line at the Milford High School Practice Football Field. Talk about turf toe. But Tod was able to afford new goals for the gym at Oakwood High School. And he upped the pay when he signed the contracts with the referees.”

“I’m in the money. I can play football again and move into the Biltmore Mansion. All because of The Shark.”

“What more proof do you need? Even if you live in the Pits of Hell, you have rights under the Constitution and it’s up to you to call 1-FON-THE-JAWS to see what those rights are. One call, that’s all.”

All right, Gang, let ‘er rip. I still think 77 yards oughta cut it at most universities. I mean, Hank Finkel had 77 career points and he spent an eternity in the NBA with a few rings to show for it. It can happen.

 

“I always knew Gil had it in him to coach. If he used Vidal Sasson Cherry Blossom, ate all his vegetables and attended seance classes at Milford Psychic Manor, he’d land a real job. Well, I’m still waiting on that but I know he still has what it takes-”

BAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

“Good God, didn’t Leonard and Tiki see the coverage?????They’ll get a flag on that one!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Kaz, safe to say someone doesn’t need to tell my mom to get off the field.”

 

 

“…a Yellow Submarine that’s yellow because it’s in dire need of Pine-Sol???????”

“Ugh, Gil, how many more days before we get out of the garage?”

 

 

 

 

 

Rock Around the (Poor) Clock (Management)

WDIG Newsflash: This just in: As a gesture to honor the memory of the late Bull Bushka, Milford High to change the nickname of its football team from the Mudlarks to the Scapegoats… Wait, what’s that?… They’re only giving that nickname to their backup running back? Never mind. Back to our regularly scheduled broadcast.

Geez, good thing Rubin remembered to give us the score yesterday, a week and a half into this game. We never saw any scoring plays so how we got to 19-14 is anybody’s guess. We also never saw Gil burn through all of his second half timeouts, or implement the game plan for the second-string running back to get the ball on every play.  He might have had Schuring look a little further downfield on fourth and long, but maybe Charlie saw Gabe Salazar overrule Gil’s play call in the huddle and thought he’d do the same thing.

No matter. Charlie missed it by that much and now that the Tilden game is over, the blame game can begin.