This Week in Milford

June 20, 2020

I Also Have Getting to the Point Issues.

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No sooner had I commented that Whigham drew a pretty good athlete in action yesterday than he draws one of the Dead End Kids Valley Mods with a ball for a hand.  Speaking of hands, look at the size of that paw and forearm on the ex-Mayor there. It’s as big as Anna Corina Corrina Karenina Karenna’s catcher’s mitt. Looks like he’s been giving it a workout. Maybe he won’t have to do that for much longer.

Otherwise, what is the point of introducing Ms. Karenna? Just to show up for one day to taunt the boys by showing them what a catcher looks like? To add to the seemingly endless parade of snarky teens in the Valley? I have a sinking feeling this arc may drag into the summer, as the Mayor finds his match, forgets about Milford and Phoebe, and his right hand shrinks back to normal size.

It’s not as if we’re gonna have a real baseball season or anything. I had a metapost in me but also a pretty busy day which is why I’m just now posting this. Maybe I’ll sleep on it and see if I can motivate myself to do it tomorrow.

 

June 4, 2020

Daddy Played First, Mama Played Second, Needed A Third Baseman To Join Right In There.

Filed under: big arms, Just plain sad, Pointy Fingers, Valley Modified — tdrewhardin @ 12:44 pm

060420bI would like to remember George Floyd and Breonna Taylor. For whatever charges were levied against them, they did have a right to expect the police to take the high road. Any public official who stoops to the level of its constituents deserves to be terminated. As Father Brown said once in the Father Brown Mysteries, equal law or equal lawlessness.

To the looters out there, shame on you. You are using controversy to promote your own ends in the name of Breonna and George. Now I can’t shop at the Walgreen’s down the street. YOU can’t either. Perhaps something you should think about when you take matters in your own hands.

 

Daddy played first

Mama played second

Needed a third baseman to join right in there

 

I remember when I was a ‘Lark

When I played good and things weren’t stark

That there’s a silver linin’ behind this plot

Just a Nutrament-chuggin’ teen

Tryin’ to grow strong with soy protein

Now I’m assemblin’ ragtag team at the weedy sandlot

 

Daddy played first

Mama played second

Needed a third baseman to join right in there

One of these days and it won’t be long

I’ll stick Dr. Pearl for all these wrongs

I’m gonna join that Mudlark team at The Throne

 

And the infield

Won’t be broken

By and by, Gil, by and by

Daddy played first

Mama played second

We got a third baseman

To join right in there

In the sky, Lord, in the sky

 

Hey, I have an idea. Let’s start our own team. Based on Ardis’ exploding eyeball, he seems to buy into the concept.

And why shouldn’t he? All you have to do is go to Milford Sporting Goods and order, say, 40 uniforms, 40 gloves (make sure some can fit those Valley Rejects that are left-handed) , 2 catcher’s mitts (in case Gil forgot to bring his and you need to loan one to your former teammates) , 15 bats at $100 a bat (I’m sure Valley Rejects have parents that can write a check and never miss it) , bag to PUT the bats in, 40 batting helmets, equipment bags, storage shed FOR the equipment bags (you just gonna leave them in The Mayor’s garage?) , 40 pairs of cleats and 40 pairs of non-steel cleats (in case some overly picky groundskeeper disallows steel cleats on his carpet) , 40 cups so that no Valley Reject loses his family jewels off of a Mudlark batter’s vicious line drive, and some mouth guards. Oh, that might be extra. You can always get those at Milford Apothecary since they are at a discount because they’re sold in bulk.

And then you got to find a field, A GOOD ONE, not those we used to play at that had 2 × 4’s with nails sticking out of them strewn all over the ground, get umpires lined up, get one of the Valley Rejects to hand them a pen to sign the contract, get a grounds crew to line the field, I’m sure Luhm will work cheap if he can slide it by the Teamsters Union.

The only thing left is the insurance. Surely one of the Valley Rejects has a dad who’s an agent. Or we can get Chet Ballard to work pro bono to make up for his horse’s ass performance many months ago.

Looks like we have all our ducks in a row. Piece of cake.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“The Bucket Gets Looted To Protest Coach Thorp Not Getting Read His Rights On DUI Charges!!!!!!!!!!!! Millions Expected In Damages, According To Insurance Claims Agent Chet Ballard!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Owner: They left the banana split mixer alone, thank God. Did you ever try to handle the Sunday evening crowd when they leave the church services?”

 

And that is either a sweet potato that’s been greased in Crisco growing out of The Mayor’s hand, straight from an Idaho tuber farm or he is giving the thumbs up to this precarious venture. Personally, I would get on with my life and learn from the injustice flung at him (speaking from experience) but if he’s going to be beating the bushes of Valley Second Hand Shoppe, he really needs to get BASEBALL players. I thought Ardis Carhee played basketball. Not that he can’t play baseball but let’s not throw assumptions around the hallway like table knives. Just because Dr. Pearl looks like Granny Clampett doesn’t mean she suffers from rotted-out teeth nor eats possum gizzards simmered in chicken broth. No jumping to conclusions that she eats her Wheaties and chitlins straight out of the cereal bowl with no spoon. Not that it would surprise me but let’s give it the old college try before answering in the affirmative.

 

Heard at The Bucket last week

“This Bucket Crab Gizzard and Jowl Bacon Plate could use a little more salt.”

 

If ya go recruitin’ round the fact’ry fer some guys ta be on yore fishin’ team after the Game Warden disqualified yore teammates at the Mudlark Lake Fishing Tournament Shoot-out cuz they used thar rod ‘n’ reel ta git more beer outta somebody’s cooler, ya might be a redneck.

 

Now I remember after the game

Gil would cuss us out by name

And you could hear all of bitchin’ for a country mile

Phoebe and Alexa have done gone on

Muench’s car is repo’d and pawned

But I’m getting together a new team by the break of dawn

 

Daddy played first

Mama played second

Needed a third baseman to jump right in there

 

One of these games and it won’t be long

We’ll lace our cleats and be 9-man strong

I’m gonna join the Rejects at Home Plate in the Skyyyyyyyy

 

And team unity

Won’t be broken

By and by, Gil, by and by

Daddy played first

Mama played second

We got a third baseman to join us there in the sky, Lord, in the sky

 

And this recruiting campaign is getting off to a roaring start. Some guy whose waistline indicates he has not missed lunch when the Valley Alternative cafeteria unlocks its doors and displaying the railroad spikes he hocked off the Milford & Oakwood rail and hammered in his hair and Mr. Ponytail (assume for argument’s sake it isn’t Mrs. Ponytail) . Now several players have played Major League Baseball and have worn long hair. Randy Johnson and Mitch “Wild Thing” Williams come to mind.

But why do I have a strong suspicion that The Mayor is simply grabbing at bodies at Valley Consignment just to pontificate to his ex-teammates that he can field a team. I remember a friend of mine who was a part of the Vietnam era who pointed out that if you could crawl, you were drafted. That about seems the case here. That’ll help when you slide into second where Mama is ready to apply the tag.

Really, Mayor, don’t just get guys on your team just because they have two arms, two legs, and sport a significant other between their legs. That’s not fair to amputees or bisexuals. I’d be put out if I was a quadriplegic and I was not recruited to play catcher. Whoops, I’m sorry, Railroad Iron Head already has that position. Anybody who eats Twinkies for appetizers ought to be able to block the plate, no question.

And as long as you’re talking to Ginger Baker in P2, would you tell him that Jack Bruce called again? Says that Clapton wants to do a remake on “White Room”.

 

Ooooooooookkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn to the rescue once again to bring sanity to insanity. Take ‘er away, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought The Mayor was recruiting her to ____________________.”

 

Is that inside the lampshade or is the lampshade turned inside out to get rid of all the lint?

Well, we have more on our plate than to prove that inverted lampshades in Schuring’s living room with sides that are congruent to the corresponding sides of the inverted lampshades in the den are congruent to each other. The Mayor is talking smack and the only thing missing from this Public Service Announcement/”Let’s Get Ready to Rumble” background music is the expected poster that’ll get nailed on every utility pole in Milford

 

This Saturday at the Milford Gardens

The Mayor of Second Chances

vs

Tom “The Gil-Slayer” Muench

Mudlark Cage Match

w/Texas Tornado Rules

One fall, no time limit, no DQ

Loser leaves Milford High School

7:30PM Bell Time

Tickets available at all Milford Apothecary outlets and Ticketmaster locations

Don’t miss it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BE THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

The Mayor might not need Railroad Iron Head for a tag partner even though the latter has a Dusty Rhoads “The American Dream” beer gut and might prove useful in the “Iowa Death Match” next month. We’ll see what happens.

 

And what in the name of railroad irons is that thing in that bunch of Chiquita bananas that Chris designates as his right hand? I ruled out abacus because I assume he has a calculator on the coffee table upon which lies the M.C. Escher lamp. It’s too small to be that mechanism that makes all those farm animal noises when you pull the string and I’m confident that if Chris is up to the challenge vis-a-vis The Mayor’s trash talk, that he is too old to be listening to “The cow goes MOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”. It COULD be some kind of CD player albeit I really can’t imagine “Rewind” being across the panel and at a slight acute angle with “Pause”. Folks, I think we have a dead ringer for Pantheon of Mysterious Objects. Wait, it’s part of the Close ‘n’ Play apparatus he bought at Milford Toys ‘R’ Us. I’m not giving up on this one.

 

“And we’ll be back with the starting line-ups between the Milford Mudlarks and the Valley Alternative Recyclables after these messages. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG Radio, a division of Learfield Sports.”

 

“Golly, gee, that ought to be an exciting game between my boys and those troublemakers in “Ernest Goes to Camp”, I mean, Valley Alternative. That’s about the only good news around here.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp and when Milford Beverage Warehouse got looted because some cowards thought that the judge laid the hammer on yours truly with 100 hours of community service after being convicted of failing the sobriety test, it really turned my stomach. Raking the leaves at the Milford Elementary School front lawn isn’t such a stiff sentence. Shoot, I have plenty of fishing nets in my garage to get all the dead bugs out of Milford Public Swimming Pool before they dump a gallon of chlorine an hour before they open. The only time success comes before work is in the dictionary. And The Warehouse has been forced to close their doors because some morons didn’t register to vote.

But if you think The Warehouse is going to take their boarded-up doors and like it, guess again. They will re-open on July 1st with some door-busters and I don’t mean the ones that are against the law. How about some Heineken? Shoot, I’d go to jail for this deal, $14.49 in the 12oz. 12-Pack but I ain’t going to leave another party with Evan Williams Bourbon on my breath and risk getting pulled over again from that speed trap in the Milford Lounge parking lot.  You’ll just have to take my word for it.

And how about some Maker’s Mark Whiskey? By some miracle, that and the Oreos didn’t get damaged. The Warehouse wants to express their praises to God with an eye-opening $22.99 in the 750ml bottle. And if they run out of Oreos, if the Chips Ahoy! isn’t too badly damaged, I can always dip that in my whiskey glass.

And if you buy a 30-Pack of Busch Light at the ridiculous $19.99, The Warehouse will give you a voucher for a discount at Renewal by Andersen to replace your broken window. I don’t know why morons would loot a guy’s living room and raid the Popular Mechanics magazine rack but buy the booze first and ask questions later. Isn’t it nice that you can once again look out your window and sip The Good Life all in the same day. Watching the birdies in the birdbath in our backyard with a Busch just brings a tear a tear to my eye.

Get your affairs in order and prepare for the Grand Reopening of Milford Beverage Warehouse. And the 1st 50 people waiting in line will get a free canister of Pringle’s Regular or Sour Cream. The thugs didn’t touch those either although they had a Hell of a time ransacking the Milford Vending Soft Pretzels bags. The Warehouse will take a loss selling the rest.

Come in and get a new lease on life and a new window and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

Gang, you’re still the one. I don’t have to recruit you to make a successful blog. You make it successful all by yourself. God bless you.

 

At the Milford Outdoor Amphitheater Free Summer Concert Series shindig one breezy night

“…Gil sang bass

Mimi sang tenor

Keri and Jaime would join right in there…”

 

At a scrimmage at Milford Sports Complex

“So they’ll let me keep my seeing-eye dog as long as he’s in the dugout?”

“I still need to talk to the crew chief but I don’t think the umpires will say anything.”

April 18, 2020

Neener, Neener, All Eyes on Keener

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Why would The Mayor ask some rando teacher to hold a parade for such a nonevent as the softball and baseball teams winning their opening games? Shouldn’t he be asking Gil? Of course not! Gil would shut him down and have him run wind sprints ’til he puked taught him some valuable lesson that may or may not involve making an example of him.

No, after yesterday’s shiny-halled encounter, this is some elaborate attempt on breakfast boy’s part to hit on Phoebe. The basketball season arc showed her to have some amount of head on her shoulders so I don’t expect her to take too kindly to this kind of public spectacle. Then again this is Rubin’s version of high school, in which half the kids are some kind of attention whore working on their “brand” so she may be into this. Enough from me; I’ll get back on my porch.

April 8, 2020

Breakfast in Milford

Filed under: baseball, big arms, Boredom in Milford, Gil Thorp, Pantheon of Hair — teenchy @ 9:02 am

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Random thoughts today:

It appears Rubin is doubling down on making one of the plot lines this spring “What is The Mayor eating for breakfast, and what kind of container is he eating it from?” How he plans to make this relevant is beyond me this morning. Are Knappe’s chronic lateness and need to talk to everybody in the halls symptoms of ADHD? If so, did B/Robby Howry leave some Adderalls stashed in the Mudlarks’ equipment room that could help?

What’s going on with the Milford baseball jerseys? Baseball uniform numbers aren’t usually centered below the team name. Maybe these are leftovers from Milford’s aborted lacrosse program. And what’s with dude whose number ends in “2” behind gesturing speaker guy’s uni? Is he wearing his jersey tucked into a skirt like in A League of their Own or into shorts like the ’76 White Sox?

Finally, poor Hiawatha James, the Pete DeWindt of his class. ‘Watha looks like he wants to be anywhere but in the Milford locker room. Maybe it’s the prospect of catching only one pitcher all season (Gil didn’t mention any others besides Godleski). Maybe it’s the hairdo he’s been saddled with. Maybe he cares as much about The Mayor’s breakfast choices as the rest of us do.

March 28, 2020

Siriously?

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Four months’ setup for this. One of the lamest intros since “Oprah, Uma. Uma, Oprah.” Alexa is left with a deer-in-the-headlights look the likes of which we haven’t seen since Boo Radley had an unfortunate run-in with Del Bader and a pickup truck.

Although some sources say it’s legit, I have never heard anyone named Serena given the nickname “Siri.” In all the years I’ve followed tennis I’ve never heard it used on the greatest female player in recent times. I never heard called Samantha Stevens’ evil cousin called “Siri.” I never heard Sifl and Olly’s fantasy girl referred to as “Siri” either, but supposedly it’s of Scandinavian origin and that’s her mother’s given name. Okay, fine.

There are still a couple months left in most school years. Many of them will be completed via distance learning, which starts on Monday where I live. Another plot should be starting on Monday in the Thorpiverse as well. Newspaper syndicate lead times being what they are, it will probably not involve distance learning. Some elements of this plot may continue over into the spring. Chris and Alexa may still duke it out for valedictorian.  We may find out Siri’s parents are named Cortana and Mercedes.

Siri and Alexa have nice boots on. Maybe they’ll go ride horses together at the afterparty.

Chris gives this plot the finger. So do I.

March 26, 2020

She Wipes Her Face Of This Whole Affair.

Filed under: big arms, freak hands, hands in the air, Pointy Fingers — tdrewhardin @ 8:55 am

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We TWIMers are anticipating the onset of baseball/softball so that we can get jerked around like a rag doll for another 4 months replete with inchoate mini-plots and directions leading us to No-Man’s Land and we’re left holding the bag how to get OUT of No-Man’s Land. Do you take A-1-A? Yeah, Jimmy Buffett would have better success getting out of Florida than we would escaping from March. Remember that Saturday Night Live sketch where Frank Zappa gets broken down and he has to go to this house where these hippies are like zombies? “Night on Drug Mountain”? And anybody who knew Zappa knew, bizarre as his music was, he never touched a drug in his life. He was VERY politically active and many of his albums are imbued with political messages.

Well, you can imagine the scene.

“Fraaaaaannnnkkkk, so good to see yoouuuu. I got some of this weed fresh in the bowl,  maaaannnnnn.”

“No, thank you, I don’t do drugs. Do you have any jumper cables?”

“Heyyyyyyy, evvverrrrryyyybodyyyy, it’s Frank Zapppppppaaaa!!!!!! Here, Frank, tryyyy some of this LSDDDDDDDDD. It’ll take your minddddd off this plot. Gil will be a thinngggg of the passsssttttttttt.”

“Look, I don’t do drugs. Do you have a phone? I can call AAA and get my car towed. I have a credit card.”

 

And with Dan Akroyd in that ponytail, that confirmed the hilarity of the situation.

“Night on Mudlark Mountain.”

Kaz in a ponytail

“Here, Gillllllllll, I got some coke straight out of the ovvvvveeennnnnn. You ought to try sommmmmmeeeeee. You aren’t going anywhheeeerrreee in this ploootttttt, anyway.”

“Kaz, you know I don’t do drugs. Did you get that Geography Final grade for Chris? I have to have it on Dr. Pearl’s desk by Monday.”

“Oh, Gil, don’t be such a party poopperrrrrr. I have a nice toke under my typewriiiittterrrrrrr. I smoke it when the studentttssssss aren’t loookkkinnngggggg. Open your mind and smelllllllll the cofffffeeeeee, mannnnnnnnn.”

“No thank you, Ms. Rizk. I have a reputation to uphold. Did you get Chris’ AAA record? I understand he’s in arrears and I want to pay the balance before that goes to print in The Trumpet.”

“Heyyyyyyy, no harmmmmmmm, no foullllll. He may have landed on the practice fiiiiieeeelllllddddd but it’s ancient historyyyyyyy to meeeeeeee. And I’llllllll give it a decentttttttt burialllll if you’ll broaden your minnnnnnnddddddd, Gil. And I’ll go half on the towinnnngggggggg.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Mudlark Girls Basketball Ends With 21-Gun Salute!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Mimi Thorp: ‘Scriptwriter told me he didn’t have any room in April for the Playdowns and my sermonizing on the softball diamond. I had to flip a coin.”

 

Okay, Mudlark Ladies, it’s time to get up and stretch. Yeah, I’m also gettin’ antsy for this thing to end. What the Academic Rat Race That Ended In Detente had to do with basketball is a free throw do-over because someone entered the lane too soon. Mimi needs to drill her players on proper footwork, maybe stick an anvil in their butts so they don’t lean over, um, er, EUREKA!!!!!!!!! THEY’RE STRETCHING BECAUSE THEY WON!!!!!!!!!!!! Sometimes it doesn’t always register. Like the Vegas gambling house that has no clocks because they want people to keep gambling by losing sense of time, the Mudlark gym has no scoreboard because Thorpiverse wants to keep dragging this along to fill up space until Spring sports and let us draw our own conclusions. Make us think this is a Ban Roll-On commercial.

 

WE WON WE WON

“Yup, we sure did. Have you checked your pits lately? I have some Sure in my locker.”

Raise your arms if you’re Surrrreeeeee

 

What a commercial. Team celebrations in Milford will never be the same.

 

If ya conk out yore bloodhound and all the ticks and fleas on yore bloodhound as a result of lack of usage of Mennen Speed Stick Spe-shull Formula Apple Cider Supreme for longer than this plot, ya might be a redneck.

 

And we won’t have to worry about the Mudlark gym getting COVID-19 thanks to the mosquito netting hanging from the basketball rim in the background. Mudlark girls can flash their B.O. knowing that protection comes in the niftiiest places. Shoot the winning shot at the buzzer and keep the flies away, now there’s a concept you can tell your grandkids. Yup, we won and trounced malaria. Works for me.

Too bad it didn’t get all the fire ants off of Alexa. Poor girl is still concerned about developing her game and now she has another problem to contend with. I’ll go get another towel. It might not help get you a starting spot on UConn’s team next year but you won’t have fire ants eating your corneas. We’ll get something out of the deal.

Better not get too close, Chris. Fire ants and Fake SAT exams don’t mix.

 

And it appears that Chris went to Mudlark Mountain and back, judging by P2. Better watch out, Alexa. No telling WHAT’S going to be at his party. If you’re expecting Lay’s Wavy Chips or Grippo’s Reduced Fat Bar-B-Chips or Diet Coke in 20 oz. bottles or Mudlar-K-Cola Watermelon Wonder in the same size, you might be disappointed.

“Here, Alexaaaaaaaaa, try some of this acid, mannnnnnnnnnn. You won’t have to practice being aggresivvvvvveeeee by knockinggggggg Dr. Pearlllllllll into her file cabinet. This tripppppppp willlllll send your opponent into the cheap seatttttttttsssssss. You’ll be Moses Malonnneeeeee, mannnnnnnn.”

“No thanks, I don’t do drugs. Where’s the Star-Kist tuna sandwiches? Chris said there’d be enough to feed the Valley Conference.”

 

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Evangelical Camp Meeting Results In 15 Converts, 32 Rededications, and 10 Baptisms At Milford High Girls Gym!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Mimi Thorp: ‘And we won the game!!!!!! Can you Lady Mudlarks say HALLELUJAH!!!!!!!!!!'”

 

And it’s bad enough that this plot had to go to Mudlark Mountain and end things at a pot party but WE’RE STILL WAITING ON SPRING SPORTS!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don’t get me wrong, to each their own and I’ve always liked Clapton’s Slowhand album that includes the signature tune, Cocaine, but I’d understandably prefer to listen to it as good music, not be the ending to Hoosiers. Jimmy Chitwood ending the plot laced on LSD really wasn’t the fate of the gods. Bobby Plump in the Sky with Diamonds? 15-footer in Marmalade Skies? Try sticking that one on the Milan Water Tower next to “1954 Champs.”

 

“How many fingers am I holding up, Alexa?”

“5?”

“That’s how many bags of pretzels will be at my party. And that midget standing next to me that hit the winning lay-up? That’s how many bowls of quiche will be on the table.”

 

OH GOD NO Puh-llllleewaaaseee tell us we’re not opening up another can of worms with the possible intro of Chris’ girlfriend. We’ve already been through enough ethics-challenging without finding out what SHE’S all about. Or, judging by Alexa’s reaction in P3, there might be a possible thing for Chris. Folks, there are only 12 months in the year. Don’t cram plot development into a glass of Nestle’s Quik. Using a spoon to stir won’t help.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. That McCartney Moment didn’t mean anything? I had a fun time under the sheets at The Lake House.”

“I’m really sorry, Alexa. It was wonderful. Well, gotta go. I gotta pick her up before the Milford Zoo closes.”

Times like these I usually switch over to Buzz Sawyer. There’s no sports in that one either but he usually catches the crook by April. And there’s no mosquito nets on the basketball backboard in his driveway.

But as long as Chris has Fritos and Con Queso dip, I might have some room on my schedule.

 

“Here, Alexa, I got some weed, mannnnnnnn. Freshly grown on some farm in New Mexicooooooooo. So good, they smuggled some across the borderrrrrrrrrrrr.”

“No, thanks. Hey, Chris, don’t put away that Amish potato salad in the fridge just yet.”

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry is Nancy Kassebaum. She was a very powerful Senator from Kansas for 18 years, able to enact legislation that made a difference from improving affordable health care to removing Apartheid in South Africa. Her father, Alf Landon, a man who lived to 100, was a famous presidential candidate in 1936, so she was no stranger to politics. In fact, she became the 2nd woman to win a Senate seat without her husband first occupying that seat. She has always displayed good judgment and has voted middle of the road on several issues, despite coming from a heavily Republican state (her own party affiliation, BTW) such as her native Kansas. Please join me in saluting a person who has displayed quality leadership when it counted and made this nation that much stronger through her well-balanced style.

 

“We’ll return to The Olde Tyme Gospel Hour at the Milford Girls Gym after these messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV. Don’t go away.”

 

“Amen, Sister Mimi. That was a great homily about The Sermon on the Mount. Probably the key to the game. And we rallied from 14 points down in the 4th quarter. Uncle Mo was on our side. Blessed are the meek.

And what better way of celebrating The Prodigal Son returning home to get the key rebound than to have a clearance sale. The timing couldn’t be better.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp on behalf of Milford Beverage Warehouse and with the COVID-19 epidemic keeping our customers from coming to El Dorado, that’s even more of a reason to clear ’em out and I don’t mean Alexa puttin’ a body on Ms. Rizk’s typewriter so that it can get an easy put-back.

Man o man, I couldn’t believe Knob Creek Straight Bourbon piled high to the ceiling because nobody wants to get drunk and do it with Rocky Raccoon. Gotta slash the prices if you want to bring ’em back in their gas masks. Best coaching advice I ever gave.

Boy, Jameson Irish Whiskey in 750 ml at a throat-cutting $14.99 and that’s not even counting the coupon that’ll knock off another 2 bucks. Shoot, the cashier we’ll even apply hand sanitizer to your coupon so that you don’t get sick off of Jameson and the virus too.

And the good people at The Warehouse got tired of using a bulldozer to plow through the cases of Miller Lite 30-Pak 12 oz. cans to get to the restroom so they slashed the price to a ridiculous $9.99 so that sanity could be restored on the way to the john. My goodness, for a dollar more, they’ll throw in Latex Sanitary Gloves you can use to help carry the booze to your vehicle. No sense in contracting The Plague while sippin’ The Good Life.

 

And when one of The Warehouse employees is practicing climbing Mt. Everest by punching a piton into a mountain of Bogle Vineyards Select cartons, I think it’s safe to say The Warehouse better reduce the backstock. For $7.79, you can be a Cheese and Wine whiner and if you brought your calculator you use to calculate your piece count at your factory, you can be an even cheaper whiner if you can figure the 10% off that price to the nearest tenth. Good deals, good booze, clean hands, and mold-free Roquefort, sounds like Whiner’s Paradise to me.

Keep yourself safe through these trying times and when you feel justifiably disinfected, come on down and partake of the clearance sale now happening at The Warehouse. Prescriptions don’t just get prescribed at Milford Apothecary. Come buy what the doctor ordered at prices that won’t make you regurgitate and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

Gang, stay safe. Follow the Center for Disease Control guidelines to the best of your ability. Don’t underestimate this one. That and common sense and I like the odds. God bless you all.

 

CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!! SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!! SPLASH!!!!!!!!

“You know you could have used a step-ladder. There’s one in the closet. Now we have to mop up all this Captain Morgan Spiced Rum. We might have a few bottles before the store opens.”

 

 

In Dr. Pearl’s office one day

“Heeeerrreeee, Gil, I have some more crack in my fiilllllleeeee cabinetttttt. You oughta try someeeeee.”

“No way. I tried that in the Marines. Did push-ups with my ears buzzing all day. Did you ever get Chris’ girlfriend’s transcript FedEx’d here?”

 

 

 

March 25, 2020

In Which Chris Schuring Indicates How Much We Still Care About This Plot

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That, or he’s just finished watching a Get Smart marathon.

I’ll admit I’m not much of a TV watcher anymore. Outside of baseball season, it’s mostly nature shows on BBC America or an oldie on Turner Classic Movies for me.  So I’ve gotta hand it to astute TWIMer franku2016 who noted in yesterday’s comments:

This entire plot was on a Modern Family episode a few years ago with a GPA tie between Alex and her academic rival Sanje, and yes, they started dating, much to the dismay of Sanje’s old-world parents.

Despite being on the air for over a decade, Modern Family has flown completely under my radar, so I had to look it up. For those of you who were as clueless about it as me, this show features Ed O’Neill (better known to some of us as would-be patriarch Al Bundy in the 1990s sitcom Married with Children) as would-be patriarch Jay Pritchett. Part of Pritchett’s extended family includes son-in-law Phil Dunphy. A real estate agent, Phil often finds himself losing business to his arch-rival… Gil Thorpe.

Gentle readers, this cannot be mere coincidence, can it? All I know is I’m gonna start checking Modern Family plot summaries for comparison from now on.

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Now that that another installment of “teenchy Is Old and Out of Touch” is out of the way, let’s focus on what’s happening here. It looks like basketball season will be coming to a blessed end this weekend. Chris seems to think the school year will be, too, or at least the spring will do nothing to change the current academic rankings. Alexa’s dislike for him still holds true regardless of the sensitivity of his sarcasm detector. Chris’ altruism comes off to her as condescension if not something even less benign. I don’t think these two are becoming a couple anytime soon, but if this part of the plot continues into the next arc (think True/Boo from a few years back) it’s not out of the realm of possibility.

 

 

 

 

March 7, 2020

Snitchin’ to Rollins

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We’ve come to that time in just about every Gil Thorp arc in which Rubin realizes he hasn’t paced worth a damn and he has to cram a week’s worth of action into a single strip and starts rushing the plot ahead without filling in the details. If this was football season we’d call it the two minute drill, but since it’s basketball season let’s call it throwing up treys and fouling. It’s late in the day and I know most of you TWIMers have probably seen today’s strip already, so I’m gonna rush through this much as Rubin did. Okay? Okay!

P1: I know that AP Chemistry midterm must be hard but, come on, it’s nothing to lose your head over! Maybe this isn’t AP Chem but American Lit and that kid under the first dialog box is acting out “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.”

P2: Neither the Milford boys nor the girls are making the playdowns ’cause they don’t score enough, so let’s sweep these games under the rug, shall we? Boy, that Marcell Irby sure is lanky!

P3: DeMarco is dropping in on Steve Harvey Mr. Rollins who, I’m assuming, is the AP Chem teacher. Couldn’t tell from that poor excuse for a periodic table behind his head. We know he’s gonna dime out Schuring; what we don’t know yet is how Schuring’s gonna get his name cleared. Something tells Gil will intervene (heaven knows he hasn’t been busy coaching) and Schuring’s word will be taken because athlete. Then we get a throwaway panel or two telling us why DeMarco’s had beef. Maybe Teddy has a low self opinion.

 

Then Alexa and Chris walk down a hallway, then it’s on to baseball. Hang on for the thrilling conclusion, folks!

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