Hey, I Say, Hey, There’s No 360 Windmill Jams When I’m Makin’ A Funny

…and 99 other pithy maxims I said when I was on the basketball team that I will tell my grandkids and collect to publish a book. Surely there’s a market for “Inane Commentary to Stall the Plot That I Think Is Funny and Will Be Referenced By The After-Dinner Speaker at the Monthly Milford Kiwanis Club Meeting”. Just stick it next to the Wall Street Journal at Borders and VOILA, instant New York Times Bestseller.

“Get off your butt, Marcell, you wussy. And did you hear the one about the traveling salesman and the point guard on their way to the game?” Six figure sales on that daddy of a witticism.

 

 

Shout-out to Stanley Clark of Louisville, Kentucky. He fights for his life EVERY DAY and winds up winning in resounding fashion. He goes to his rehab clinic with his best face forward and has chosen to Do The Right Thing as a result. He is hoping to walk one day and if he keeps working his butt off at the clinic and gets out and about in general, I have no doubt in my mind that that dream will be a reality. Rootin’ for ya, Big Guy. You got my blessing and my respect to press on. I believe you will.

 

Gang, I don’t know aboutchoo but the basketball plot is already a flat tire. Hoo boy, does this mangled Michelin need a visit to the Milford Men’s Clinic to pump things up, errrrrrr, never mind.

So far, all we have seen are Mudlarks in their gym clothes practically playing Cooties with each other, one Mudlark in his night gown because he forgot his gym bag, and basketballs. THE COACHES HAVEN’T EVEN SHOWN UP!!!!!!!!!!!! WHERE ARE THEY?????????? I follow a lot of college basketball and I have a ton of respect for University of Kentucky Men’s Basketball and their fans and one of the reasons is Midnight Madness is a HUGE deal and you’ll see guys practicing basketball at GOALS and the scoreboard is THERE and RUNNING and there will be REFEREES there to call the game, the players and the referees will not be acting like the kids on Romper Room like we’ve seen in the Mudlark Fellowship Hall, scratch that, Gym. And you can damn well be sure the coaches will not be negotiating the rapids at Mudlark Falls with Marty and Peaches in the Milford Nature Area. There’s a word for that. COACHING.

Gil, truncate this tomfoolery we’ve witnessed the last few days in the playground you call a gymnasium or hand in your whistle.

The consolation prize is that TA-DAAAAAAAAAAAA, WE NOW HAVE COURT DIMENSIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!! But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I said we have lines on the basketball court, I didn’t say they were legal, accurate, or even fit to line up and chalk down like the Milford Playground Courts. In fact, the Mudlarks may as well play there because I am totally confused on the dimensions in P3. I thought at first the arcs formed part of the jump circle but unless we are expecting King Kong and Godzilla at tip-off, really no way we should justify that appellation and maintain a straight face. Look, I wouldn’t want to be the one throwing the ball in the air. I’d be crushed by Godzilla when he’s tapping it to a teammate for an easy 2.

Soooooooooooooo, is that part of the 3-point arc? Maybe. Big maybe. Trouble is they are circling around and for all intents and purposes intersecting each other. Also, the arcs are facing AWAY from their respective buckets so unless you’re Curly Neal and you plan on keeping sharp with the Globetrotters with your 47-foot heaves, it’s best to shelve THAT notion and pretend the soccer team uses the court when the basketball team isn’t playing or practicing.

Actually, the b-ball team is just doing a bad imitation of Joey Bishop so expect DC United and the Mudlark soccer team any minute for their annual exhibition match.

“GOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Lionel Messi has put Italy up, 1-0, over Uruguay as the match has reached the 63 minute-”

“Filion!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Give me 50 on the ground. If you don’t want to do the rebound drill, hit the showers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And for the life of me, I am trying to figure out the line which I will assume for the moment ( I said for the moment) surrounding the, for lack of a better word, jump circle. If that line is running east-west (using your compass included in the Go Comics travel kit) , where is that other Line going beyond the, crossing my fingers, out-of-bounds line???????? Is that Yellow Brick Road leading to Oz? I guess we’ll know after Filion is done with his poor excuse for stand-up when Dorothy, the Scarecrow and the Cowardly Lion appear on the court. Really no way the Tin Man could be taking a shower after playing one of those “O-WEE-O” monkeys on the racquetball courts. Must be wiping his butt with his oil can in one of the stalls.

And I PRAY that same line is not north-south unless that line is the half-court line. Otherwise, the gym displays a very short stage for Filion’s “Bert and Ernie” material. We’ll probably never know because nobody’s playing ANY basketball, including Mike “Take my wife, please” Filion.

And WHERE IS Coach Thorp? In his office listening to The Clash’s “Rock the Casbah”? If I see an armadillo running across one of those Etch-a-Sketch lines, I’ll have my answer.

 

Unclear as to why we need models on the back of a Healthy Choice Smoked Turkey Breast, replete with mashed potatoes and refried okra other than for image and image sells (which I understand) , but willing to run with it

“Try our Milford Slaughter House’s Finest Whole Hog Sausage, now in Hot and also Mild. Whether you’re ordering a sausage biscuit off the dollar menu in The Bucket drive-thru or you’re planning a Baptist Men’s Breakfast at Milford Baptist Church, Milford Slaughter House’s Finest is your sausage of choice.”

Cut to Marty moon on the back of a package posing in his Armani Double-Knit suit and Gucci Shoes (The Sopranos couldn’t be prouder, observing their sartorial personality on display in a pig sty) with a 5-ton Yorkshire. Only John Lennon did it better with his porker on his album. Image is everything, Folks.

“Marty, where the Hell you been? You got mud all over you!!!!!!!!!”

“Just doing a little modeling and earning some extra cash.”

“Well, thank God you’re in the studio reading the Milford Community Calendar. They won’t see you.”

 

Big shout-out to Mike Flanders of Middletown, Kentucky. Though essentially confined to a wheelchair, you would never know it by his hilarious sense of humor. The dude had  me rollin’ the entire time I was with him (“That’s not my cane, that’s my Abel” GOOD ONE, Big Guy) . And he is very close to his cats, Wilson and Nemo. The latter was called that after the cat ran away for a while, Mike getting Wilson in the interim, BUT Nemo returning, earning the name. Mike, you got it, My Man. I admire his courage and humor which gives us all hope that you just never give up as he can attest and confirm. Got my respect, Mike.

 

I normally try to work across the panels (i.e., start with P1) , but P3 was just full of leaving-themselves-wide-open chutzpah that I had to crucify that first.

But make no mistake, P1 and P2 are hanging high and dry as well. Why do we have to include a member of SPECTRE who is threatening to take over Milford??????? Is 007 in New Thayer chasing down those hoods? And I guess if you take over Milford with shrewd advertising and H-bombs (Y’know, the ones stored in a closet somewhere in Dr. No’s or Goldfinger’s cave) , you’ll take over the world. What strategy. Really, Hitler should have taken a detour to Mudlarkland before he reached Sudetenland. Would have saved him a lot of trouble plus the world would have been served on a platter for him. Napoleon? Why go through that enormous expanse called Russia when Milford was on the way? He might have avoided Waterloo.

So as this part of the plot unfolds (ready to hold my nose) , it should be interesting if Dr. No’s second cousin twice-removed is able to conquer the globe, separating the wheat from the chaff, champs from the chumps in the bargain. Gil, you are nothing but a stupid high school basketball coach whose luck has run out.

Oh brother, Dr. No, we’ve been onto that for 60 years. Tell us something we don’t know.

 

Day 9

Peaches narrowly avoids a zebra in estrus while she is foraging for mulberries which are reputedly in abundance on the Chisholm Trail which ran straight through the area before they made this Milford Nature Area. There are traces of cattle drives but Peaches is in no mood to chew on a longhorn skull in her birthday suit no matter how desperate she is for food. She can wait until the next mulberry bush. Spotting a baby giraffe, she may have hit paydirt. Since Giraffes are by nature herbivores, you won’t catch too many in the parking lot at Outback Steak House. She waits until the mini-speciman has had its fill, then retrieves her KFC Fill-Up  Bucket and piles it in the container. It’s a shame that Milford Bakery Outlet is nowhere near or she could chow down on mulberry shortcake and whipped cream. Well, this is the outdoors, you understand.

Marty, meanwhile, is a little delirious, not surprising if you have confronted Mother Nature face-to-face for several days. He staggers along the woods, desperate for any hope.

And it’s 50 feet in front of him. An old house, perhaps owned by the man overtaken by Frogs(Is the record player still playing? I swear, that bullfrog CRUSHED that Petula Clark record he was spinning), Marty joyously walks up the stairs into the house.

He finds the living room. It’s dark but there’s a La-Z-Boy recliner with his name on it. He plops down, careful not to get his butt stains all over the serge fabric. Man, that stuff don’t come off in the wild. He lays down one of his Hanes towels. That 100% cotton’ll steer those butt marks clear over into the next Nature episode. He lies down and takes a much-needed cat-nap. After realizing that his dream of Gil at Golgotha was over, he gets up and heads to the kitchen. He manages to locate the refrigerator, surprisingly still functioning. Unless squirrels are storing acorns in the Fresh box or raccoons are using the tap water, Marty finds no condiments of any kind, freezer included. Then he notices a Post-it note on the fridge door as he shuts it.

“I killed Coach Shaw.”

Marty, a bit unnerved, heads to the other parts of the house. He notices a sculpture of a Mudlark in one of the bedrooms and is intrigued by the objet d’art. He notices a tag on it. Unable to read it, Marty gets out his flashlight and shines a light on the writing.

“This Milford Mudlark was created by the Blair Witch Project.”

In a moment, we’ll see if Marty goes the chickenshit route and runs out the service entrance of the Milford Nature Area or if he opts to stick around and watch the satanic cult sacrifice an oranguatang in the den while ESPN Sportscenter is on, both for the glory of Lucifer.

 

“Hi, this is Coach Gil Thorp. Boy, what a pickle Marty got into. I dunno, I was desperate but I wouldn’t want any members of the Blair Witches kicking for me, not even Sabrina’s witches, so I’d be running more than the 50-yard dash outta that place. But what’s scarier is when your sex life is on the rocks and you can’t get Samantha Stephens to wiggle her lips to get you erect. Why call Darrin Stephens and enlist the aid of his wife when Nirvana is simply a visit to the Milford Mall away? That’s right, there are no magic wands, no magic potion like the stepmother gave Cinderella, no antidote for the vapor lock on your significant other that Dr. Bombay could hope to prescribe. The Prince will not be at The Clinic to arouse Cinderella or anything else in the office.

What you WILL get is expert advice and top-notch medications designed to enhance your manliness including a 12-unit supply of pleasure shots, free and easy to use, just put that needle right on your pecker and it’s as if you are receiving oral, well, you men know what I’m taking about.  And if you were a kid, you enjoyed the Balloon Man filling up those balloons at the carnival. Think of yourself as the Balloon Man, filling up your own balloons. Trust me, I am not waiting for my wife to kiss my significant other and wake it up after being dead a thousand years. She can be Prince Charming in bed, not at The Clinic.

Come to the Milford Men’s Clinic today and start your own fairy tale. Just because Endora changed your significant other into a celery stalk doesn’t mean The Milford Men’s Clinic doesn’t have magic of its own to enhance your sex life. Experience the pleasure today. And send the Wicked Witch of the West back to the slums of Oz.”

 

All right gang, it’s your turn. You got the floor and anything you say can and will be held against you in a Court of Law-

SHAREEF, HE DON’T LIKE IT

BOOM BAH DEE BOOM BOOM

ROCK THE CASBAH

ROCK THE CASBAH

“Kaz, dammit, did you open the cage again?????????”

“Well, you wanted me to feed him Ken’l Ration Healthy Choices for a Fine Coat. Did you want me to dump the can on top of the cage?????????”

 

“My name’s Bond. James Bond.”

“Look, shitface, we don’t care if your name is SpongeBob SquarePants, you’re a prick and we’re gonna kick your ass and egg your Aston Martin DB5. C’mon, dudes, let’s waste this asshole.”

BLAM!!!!!!!! BLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!! BLAMBLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BLAMMO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As the Duane Eddy guitar is playing, we hear a voice all over New Thayer

BOND IS BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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In Milford, Some of Us All Look Alike

Wow, feels nice to free myself from the constraints of the haiku form.  Wish I had more to say today.  Bet it would feel nice for Whigham to free himself from the constraints of using the same facial features and hairstyles for all of his Mudlarks.  Let’s take a closer look at that first panel, shall we?

Do these two not have identical noses?  I leave it to you, gentle readers, to draw your own conclusions.  Guessing Marcell doesn’t use his first name, Duwan.

I reckon after multiple seasons Rubin has decided to imbue Man of a Thousand Faces and Hairstyles “Marginal” Mike Filion with a personality and backstory.  He’s been quiet ever since we’ve been introduced to him, speaking only when spoken to by Gil or Kaz.  But Neal needs another extroverted look-at-me guy to make his plots go, so Filion it is.

Meanwhile Bobby Howry plots his revenge via billboard…

You Can’t Travel, Joe. Oops, My Bad, I Thought We Were Talking Basketball.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA, that’s a real knee-slapper, Filion. Way to get things on the right foot with the oldest prank in the book. Not even Dennis the Menace would stoop that low.

“OWWWWWWWWWWWWW, MY EYE HAS POPPED OUT OF ITS SOCKET, MR. WILSON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“George, you big bully, you had to use a rake on him? C’mon, Dennis, let’s have some milk and cookies and I’ll see if I can find an adjustable crescent wrench to screw it back in.”

“Martha, I was just raking leaves!!!!!!!!!! Next thing you know, he and Ruff are on the ground in an epileptic seizure. That’s gotta be one of those gumballs he got out of the Milford Kiwanis gumball machine at the Milford Laundromat.”

“They just don’t want to admit they need a Band-aid. Here, I’ve got some peroxide in the Lazy Susan in the kitchen next to the Cheerios and the Arm & Hammer Baking Soda. And we’ll put Ruff to sleep after I feed you some Wheat Chex.”

“Ruff’s just constipated, Martha. I’ll get some Ex-Lax in my glove box and stick it in his Alpo.”

 

And you old timers remember the Gomer Pyle episode about Sergeant Carter’s eye? If you whippersnappers will bear with me too, an artist came on Camp Pendleton to survey who she thought might be a perfect person to represent the Marines in their advertising posters. Well. she’s making a few sketches throughout the show and it looks like she is sketching Sergeant Carter when in reality she is sketching Gomer. Sergeant Carter is performing all these manly poses from standing on Gomer in triumph during a war games drill to pointing the troops to victory as if he was at Iwo Jima. Naturally, Colonel Gray is shocked at the artist’s decision and eventually so is, naturally, Sergeant Carter. Gomer, of course, is the Man of the Hour on the posters, standing tall and proud in his dressed blues, representing everything you want in a Marine and what a grunt aspires to after boot camp and beyond. Still, as you could understand, it’s an awkward situation as Sergeant Carter is left out in the cold after he had high hopes. The artist senses that and so draws Sergeant Carter’s eye which lays in the background(“Behind every Marine is a Sergeant ready to mold him” or something to that effect which the artist uses to explain her rationale)  like the road-narrowing-to-a-point-in-the-distance perspective which lifts Sergeant Carter’s spirits considerably. In fact, at the end of the show, some passer-by sees the poster on a display on a street somewhere and sees Gomer and understandably says “Hey, that’s you!!!!!!” And as fate would have it, Sergeant Carter cuts in and says “Yes, but that’s my eye there behind him”. Of course, the passer-by has no clue what Sergeant Carter is talking about and the show ends with Sergeant Carter desperately clinging to his sliver of fame with the passer-by.

 

So as long as the football plot lost all the wheels on the car and we never knew the denouement of the season thanks to Thorpiverse evidently having trouble budgeting its time, I might as well tie up some loose ends with

“For every great Mudlark, there’s a coach who inspires him to perspire if he wants to win the brass ring” with Tiki running with the football to the end zone with the Sharks from New Thayer in hot pursuit while this toupee of Gil’s floats proudly and arrogantly in the sky, topped by a halo and surrounded by the Cherubim. Marty Moon is in the other corner being dragged down in Hell by Carrie White and the rest of the demons. Mimi and her basketball team are at the Pearly Gates cheering on Tiki to greater heights, heck, they have the time, they only play 5 basketball games.

On the bulletin board at The Bucket

“Wow!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tiki, CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!! You’re a real winner in that poster!!!!!!!!! You kicked some major Shark ass and you pulled a Doug Flutie to help win the game Thorpiverse forgot to print in this overextended season!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What’s your secret?”

“No secret, really. Just hard work, plenty of Kellogg’s Sugar Corn Pops-”

YES, BUT THAT’S MY HAIR BEHIND HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Everybody looks befuddled.

MY HAIR!!!!!!!!!! MY HAIR!!!!!!!!!! THE BAD DON EVERLY REPRINT WITH THE GRECIAN FORMULA SMEARED ALL OVER IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Can you say FILLER SPACE? What else could this be when we avoided the Jets and Sharks rumbling in the streets when one of the Jets had a camera and shot hog-wild with it and escaped by the hair of his chinny-chin-chin(as did the other Jets) and NOW we are about to begin basketball(and that ain’t gettin’ off on the right foot given a Mudlark showing off his Air Jordan moves in his negligee) which evidently required some kind of transition and I guess Joe at the Movies a/k/a Joe at the Travel Agency footed the bill.

I guess it’s better than the alternatives

At the Milford Lounge

“Gil, that’s the 13th Bud Lite you’ve had. The plot wasn’t THAT bad.”

“Oh, yeah(burp)? We had more action in ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark: Indiana Jones Excavates Principal Ek’s Class Ring’, which Joe showed in one of the  game film sessions than on the football field. Man(belch), I feel like a fifth wheel. I hope Mimi doesn’t see me this way.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem. She just downed her 12th Bud Lite watching ‘Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman’ in the Family Room.”

Orrrrrrrrrrrrrr,

“We’re gonna film ’em TONIIGGGHHHHHTTTTTT

Their hood caps better fit tiiiiigggghhhhhhtttttt”

“Leonard, you get a good camera angle on the short guy’s crack; he’s not wearing Fruit of the Looms

And Andy, catch that bruiser with the tattoo when he’s smiling. That Mammy Yokum profile will drive him and the rest of the losers out of Milford, no question”

“Riiiiiggggghhhhhhtttttttttt”

“We’re gonna film ’em tonnnniiiiggghhhhttttttttt

The turd faces better take fllllliiiiggghhhhttttttt”

“Tonight, tonight, won’t be just any night…”

Ahhhhhhh, better save Tony and Maria for a rainy day

Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

“DAMN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What a time to lose my Off! spray. I can outrun that elephant if I get to that footbridge. I never knew Milford Nature Area could be so gargantuous. Maybe Peaches’ll be there for a quickie.”

Really, any of these could have been the pinch hitter and we could sashay into Aardvark on a breakaway slam under the influence of one of his mother’s medications before you know it. Trust me on that one.

 

Shout out to Wayne and Steve Kuchenbrod of Lyndon, Kentucky. They are fraternal twins and when I saw them they were going to the public gym on a workout program. Good for them. It was COLD when I saw them and they could have stayed home and nobody would have blamed them but they chose to get out of the house. I’m proud of them for choosing to get busy living and work on improving their bodies as we all get older. I salute both of you and think you represent America. Treat ’em with respect, gang.

 

“In a moment, we’ll see if Marty can escape the pack of lions that Gil let loose in the Milford Nature Area from the Barnum & Bailey Circus.”

 

“Hi, this is Colonel Harland Sanders for Kentucky Fried Chicken. I’ll bet many of you think that because I now have the Andy Warhol profile on all my signage right down to the coffee cup and I have the voice of Boss Hogg when the record’s running at ’78 that it was all mashed potatoes and gravy. Boy, have you been eating one Liver Cheese Burger too many.

I actually started in Milford when it was the Milford Chicken Pits Company. We would shoot chickens out in the woods and even hock a few from Gil’s Grandfather’s farm next door. Shheeeeet, the dude possessed 1,275,898 of them, he wasn’t going to miss ’em any time soon. His abacus couldn’t count that high.

We would pluck the chicken one feather at a time, then use an Uzi on their head. Couldn’t be too careful. No sense in using a toy gun on them babies if ya wanted things finger lickin’ good. We just needed below the neck. Then we’d dip it into a battere that’s a secret recipe but I’ll throw a hint at ya, we had to dodge the revenoors when we drove in the woods. We opened our first restaurant right here in Milford, right down the street from The Bucket. Gil worked as a teenager, driving the unused chicken parts out by where the varmints smashed the still. Carry Nation wasn’t about to dig up nasty chicken breast bones and burn ’em nor raid Gil’s Chevy.

Over the years, we’ve grown to several restaurants, fightin’ The Bucket every step of the way over property settlements, advertising, and softball bragging rights, oh, SHIT, and the food too.

That’s why I’m here to plug our new 5 Dollar Fill-Up that’ll put any Bucket Chicken Sandwich or Bucket Burger to shame. For 5 dollars, you can load down with 150 wings, 353 thighs, 241 breasts, 15 gizzards, 2 tons of jowl bacon and 75 potato wedges and a chocolate ship cookie. And at no extra charge, the Bucket, not the Pop’s Cholit Shoppe wannabe, you dummies, comes with a side of cole slaw and mashed potatoes. We’ll even throw plastic silverware. Just be careful not to let the spork get submerged in all the thighs.

And wouldn’t you know it, our Bucket beats The Bucket’s Bucket. They only offer one ton of a Bucket o’ Jowl Bacon, 352 thighs and, hoooeyyyy, they include 100 Bucket Cheese Burgers which are manufactured from grain-fed beef, an EPA bête-noire.  To add insult to injury, their cole slaw and mashed potatoes come in thimbles. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to be sewing  my Milford letter on my sweater with gravy all over me.

Come to KFC, where we do chicken right and let The Bucket burn their burgers on a cross of gold. A 5 Dollar Fill-Up Bucket is better than a Bucket o’ Anything at The Bucket, commode included.”

 

 

 

Gang, I’m STILL trying to figure out the freak hands in P2. You know those optical illusions where it’s an old lady in one perspective but a young woman in another? Yes, but that’s TWO SEPERATE ENTITIES!!!!!!!!!!! Here, the thumb and the forefinger is on the same hand. I’ve seen papier-mache artwork that my niece (great artist, BTW) concocted int he 3rd grade better than this guessing game of an appendage. I THINK that’s a thumbnail. Oh, what the hay, the thumb just got stapled on to the hand. Plus, nobody uses the thumb to emphasize a point. Try imagining Lincoln attempting the maneuver while giving the Gettysburg Address.

FDR at the mike

“Today will be a Day of Infamy”

Okay, one more last-ditch attempt,

Lou Gehrig giving his Farewell Speech

“I am the luckiest man alive.

Nahhhhhhhhhhhh, keep your thumb for safekeeping.

 

 

Oooooooooooooooookkkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back in the studio to sabotage things and he is chompin’ at the bit to do so, thusly, take ‘er away, Gene

“Dumb dora was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought basketball started now because of ______________________”

 

If ya refuse ta turn the telly and watch the NBA or anything else for that matter even though ya have 151 channels ‘cuz youse callin’ the Cable officials about who won the tractor pull after they yanked the show fer “Heidi”, ya might be a redneck.

 

Big shout-out to Donna Bouquet(boo-KAY) of Fern Creek, Kentucky. Donna gets up EARLY to go to work at the Fern Creek Kroger and she keeps the store running with her hard work and determination. She is great to talk to and I have learned a ton from her. She is also very close to her family and they look out for each other, especially in times of need. She contributes mightily to America’s welfare and represents what America is all about. She just flat-out gets it done either at work or at home as typified by her beautiful house and well-manicured lawn. Keep on going, Donna. America needs you. You’ve earned my respect.

 

“Will Marty escape the mongoose??????? Will the mongoose grab a hold of Marty’s family jewels?????? Find out in a moment for the exciting conclusion!!!!!!!!!!”

 

“Are you planning a big Christmas Eve celebration where everybody will be exchanging presents with everybody right down to the Tonka Train Set and ugly ties but you lost your job because the new guy could figure the stats quicker and cheaper? Hi, I’m Coach Thorp on behalf of the Milford Beverage Warehouse. No, Milford Beverage Warehouse can’t refer you to that 24-hour truck stop for a job as a dishwasher nor give you any references in that regard but, boy o boy, they have a great deal for you. The $100 Fill-up Deal will get you a cover letter in record time. You will get a steel drum filled with all kinds of wines of your choice for that discriminating alcoholic in your family plus Lowenbrau and Michelob 24-packs for the slushees watching the NBA at Christmas; they may not know the score at the end of the game or even care, but with golden elixirs such as these and even a free case of Bud when you tell ’em that you heard Uncle Gil on the radio talking about the Warehouse, you won’t go wrong. And don’t forget the party snacks, that’s right, the Warehouse made sure to cram them suckers and wedge the Milford Vending Beer Nuts and Milford Vending Cashews, not to mention Charles Chips, between the 28 Pink Truck Wines and pina coladas. And what’s chips and peanuts plus Bolthouse Farms Baby Carrots and Milford Farms Celery Pieces without some dip? C’mon, admit it, you dip plenty of Charles Chips Barbecue Chips in the Milford Dairy Spinach Dip and Milford Dairy Cinnamon Cream Cheese. And how could I forget the bagels? The Warehouse put the star on the Christmas tree in short order. Silly me. Hey, sounds like you’re gonna have a party without Milford Finance sending a tow truck in your driveway to repossess your car. By the way, you can return your steel drum to The Warehouse and get a rebate good for a purchase of Drewry’s Dark. With all these incentives, why go anywhere else? C’mon what does the Milford Wal-Mart liquor department have to offer besides Sam’s Choice Malt Liquor? I’ll bet they don’t even need a crowbar to cram  Great Value Cheese Puffs into their shopping cart. Nope, the Warehouse Fill-Up Deal is non-pareil. Why, I saw Rob Walton sneak in the emergency door to check out the haps. you’re not fooling me, Bud and Sam.

Come to Milford Beverage Warehouse, your headquarters for Christmas party shopping. Yes, at The Warehouse, just because you have to tighten your belt doesn’t mean ya gotta put a leash on The Good Life. Heck, the only time you’ll say you can’t load the drum in the bed of the truck is when you’ll tell the loading crew at The Warehouse you’ll hoist it yourself. Hey, at The Warehouse, have it your way.

 

Gang, have it your way. I think affairs are already getting staid if there are no nets, backboards, basketball racks, scoreboard, popcorn machine. Hell, at least draw a free throw line so I know this isn’t a hockey rink. Yup, just some friends in their basketball uniforms that are sneaky resemblances to gym clothes gathering around to talk about the New York Rangers. Happens all the time.

 

JODYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!! JODY DAVIS!!!!!!!!!!!!! CATCHER WITHOUT A FEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Harry, I think the Senility Meter broke the mercury out of the tube. The baseball plot was two sports ago.”

Sorry, Robmize, one last Cubbie joke before next year(ha).

Two Billboards Outside Milford

Here we go! The new plot is here! The new plot is here! Things are going to start happening for us! (Self delusion is a key to blogging.)

It’s kind of exciting to see a new place depicted in Gil Thorp. We’re kicking off basketball season with a look at the Milford Office Park, the home to Skyborne Advertising. If you want to advertise in or around Milford, grab your clipboard and head down to Skyborne. Talk to Jim.

I wish we could get a better look at the outdoor advertising game in Milford. Does Skyborne handle bus advertising? (Does Milford have buses? Maybe they do and if so they might have bus benches. Jim will advise a diverse media campaign for maximum impact.) Given that this is Milford, I’m sure Skyborne employs a crew of guys who don white coveralls and climb rickety wooden ladders to hand letter billboard messages or hang paper advertising with those big push broom type brushes. Why not? Milford still has a storefront travel agency.

But, we won’t get to hangout at the Office Park to see the rest of this scintillating media buy because we’ve got to get over to basketball practice, where…

somebody gets an eye injury. The injured party has the center part hairstyle most recently seen on Joe Bolek, and he has freckles. Mike Granger was the dark haired version of this model a few years ago. Remember when he and Ken Brown were tailing Aaron Aagard to his dumpy apartment? (Those dumpy apartments get a lot of play in Gil Thorp. I wonder what their media strategy is.)

Marty Moon: The Straw That Stirs the Milford Drink

Today’s strip just serves to bring the glaring plot holes, inconsistencies and missed opportunities into stark relief, not unlike Marty’s face in P2.  Without belaboring the obvious – oh, who am I kidding? Let’s belabor the obvious:

1. If an Aagard scores 26 points and there’s no one there to report on it, does it make a sound? Last winter’s saga of Aaron and his opioid-addicted mother ended with his transfer into the protective custody of the Hiatt-Brown family. Rubin brought Aaron back this season, but Big Ken Brown is no longer around to make things happen. Couldn’t those loose ends have been tied up in a panel?
2. Nice use of parallel drinking by the not-broadcasting broadcasters, one with hooch, the other with Yoo-Hoo (or does that just say “Poo”?). The glaring sign behind Marty’s head must be meant to offer a contrast to his apparent sour mood. It also offers a nice segue into a song parody but I fear those days are behind me. The idea that WDIG can’t or won’t run games without Marty to call them borders on the absurd. Absurd doesn’t begin to describe the Milford Pirate Network’s approach to the games. If they’d been up front about why they popped up then played it straight, they’d still be on the air and no one would’ve cared that there was no coverage from Marty and WDIG. But noooo, MPN based its whole schtick on taunting Marty, so no Marty, no MPN. For that matter…
3. … no Marty, no Gil to antagonize or be antagonized by Marty. Hence Gil’s call on Pocket Square Sporting Radio Station Manager to no doubt try to get Marty back on the air. As with his meeting with Marty, Gil’s on neutral ground where drinks are involved but this time it’s only coffee (unless Gil’s secretly making it Irish).

If all this is a pivot towards turning this strip from Gil Thorp into Marty Moon, I could be persuaded to stick around. The travails of a drunken shock jock looking to redeem himself to unwitting victims of his shock doesn’t cover new ground but it has potential.

late metapost: Over lunch I came across this article about Latinos attempting to assimilate in the American South. No one in the story is Puerto Rican, but it touches on an angle Rubin has chosen not to pursue to much extent in this arc.

Pining for the fjords? No, just for some actual sports action

Oh look, Pirate Boy Levin finally got his puffy shirt, and just as Seinfeld was a show about nothing, this has become a plot about nothing.

It’s just become a mockery on so many levels it’s ceased to even be funny. The whole idea of the alternative broadcast was to compete with the WDIG broadcast and to protest Marty’s culturally insensitive references to Jorge Padilla via occasional outbursts. The outbursts haven’t been protests so much as snark; only Pirate Boy has even brought up the Pirate Network’s reason for being. And competitive? There’s been zero effort to make this anything but a bunch of goofy, childish antics. “Sportsball” is what people who are contemptuous of sports (and the people who play them) call sports. By playing up this angle, Pirate Boy & co. are as disrespectful to Jorge in their own way as Marty has been in his.

I dunno. Maybe I was expecting MPN to play the games a little straighter, showing some sensitivity to the Padillas’ situation and calling Marty out for his lack of same. Maybe Pirate Boy will hit Marty with that stick on Monday, but I’m not holding my breath.

MPN improves its image

Well I have to say I like the hot chick in the MPN shirt way better then the clown in the pirate hat with his parrot. Hey I’ll even go to games to see her instead of Mister Pirate. Heck with staying home on Youtube. But how the hell are they listening to Marty that closely that they can hear his mistakes?? I’ve sat next to broadcasters before (High School Cube mostly ) and you can hear them, but its not like you really Listen to them with the supposed roar of the crowd. So again we have one good thing and one bad thing. If its good drawing its nonsense dialogue. If its good dialogue its shitty artwork.

How they got the logoed shirts is somewhat a mystery but its possible these days with the internet and ordering obscure stuff from obscure websites. My fantasy baseball teams name  is the Flying Tigers and I have a logo And a t-shirt with a design on it that I wear proudly during baseball season.

Back to the artwork — what the hell is that guy doing with his arms up to Martys left? Starting a wave? And who runs like that in basketball? Looks like a fuckin track meet. # 13 is looking the other way and NOT RUNNING. No wonder Marty cant concentrate – he isnt sure what sport he’s announcing anymore. Of course I’d have other issues :)

 

 

Clowntime Is Over

I really feel for Paloma Padilla (remember her?): what started out as an indignant response to Marty’s callous, bigoted attitude toward her brother, her fellow Puerto Ricans, and their plight turned, in the hands of her erstwhile friend Karina and the horrible, nebbishy stereotype Duncan Levin, into a clown show. Worse still, the Milford kids – from the Dollanganger family in the Goshen stands to the mullet with the bad knockoff Joy Division t-shirt on his Dove Bar laptop at home – are lapping it up. Where’s that Al-Jo Ames when you need her (and how dated does that last hyperlinked strip look now)?

At this point I keep hoping against hope for any one of the following, in no particular order:

1. MPN streams another Milford game, preferably the girls’ game, and plays it straighter than this. Can’t happen: mostly immature MHS kids can’t not be goofs.
2. Los Morenos rejects WDIG and sponsors MPN. It’s possible: Dr. Pearl would love the revenue.
3. Marty gets fired. Never in a million years: Marty is a permanent landmark on the Milford landscape, the eternal Iago to Gil’s Othello.

Musical inspiration for today’s post: