This Week in Milford

August 17, 2019

Oh Yeah? Jump On This!

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Well, I’m glad that’s settled. Ed is neither the express nor implied racist we suspected him to be (or, at least, he’s not gonna cop to that). Neither is he really that concerned about Jaquan’s post-NBA career. He just wanted baby girl to come home and join/take over his practice. I mean, why should the Foley Law Group beat him to the punch? With that, Ed V. Baxendale joins the pantheon of Milford parents living vicariously through the lives of their children (if not outright preordaining their career paths via their names).

Kinda funny we haven’t seen Gil in the strip for a couple of weeks. Hope he’s watching more of Joe Bolek’s game film. He’d better keep Hadley on speed dial for the next time he needs to intimidate the lawyerless school board, or game the system to recruit outside talent.

Finally, it wouldn’t be a Gil Thorp arc-ending strip without some kind of lame joke and a freeze-frame ending. Good thing Jaquan got Luther, The Anger Translator to stand in for him.

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July 18, 2019

“We Now Return To ‘Golf Of Remembrance Past-Slash-Football Follies’, Here On A & E.”

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Outside of Gil doing a publicity pose for Milford Today like he’s doing in P3, we probably won’t see much more golf the rest of the Summer.

But we WILL see Hadley Villain, Upstart Injury Lawyer-slash-Questionable Newlywed strain to see if her right arm will ever display a bicep. You go, Girl. Put some Alpo in the bowl and you might feel a bump in that right appendage any day now.

Does Thorpiverse honestly think we’re gonna get bowled over at Trey’s Diner-slash-Greasy Spoon But Nowhere Near Like The Bucket-slash-A Couple of Nautilus Machines Does Not Gold’s Gym Make-slash-Really Oughta Be A Spare Bedroom?

Now we’ve taken all that we can possibly take from As The Summer Turns Our Stomach. We’ve seen the golf plot not even be a golf plot, getting shanked in the lake and now we’re having to take a drop as a result.

And, Lord have mercy, we are witnessing Thorpiverse gerrymander a plot by looking the other way in the name of creating an interesting scenario that’s supposed to be emanating from the Football Plot-slash-2 Months Premature by playing Tiki Jansen-slash-Ineligible Means Ineligible.

And as long as we’re going to skirt the rules of eligibility and common sense, will somebody please remind Cover Like An Allstate Insurance Policy-slash-Burnt Eggo Waffle Jansen that he DOES need to keep his head out of his butt while he’s moping The School Board Blues and eking out a poor rendition of “Dust My Broom”? While he and Elmore James are on the 50-yard line moaning off that sad guitar that James is deftly plucking, the 3rd-string tight end just waltzed in the end zone with his own music, “Tuxedo Junction” from another segment of Lawrence Welk Remembers.

Come to Butt Drugs in Corydon, Indiana for all your pharmaceutical needs and so much more. They have an excellent soda fountain counter that is ALWAYS busy, not to mention some neat gifts for all occasions. I have found the place a great place to shop whether you’re a tourist or you’re a local in the area. They fill all your prescriptions at reasonable prices and they have free parking in the rear of the store. I can see why this place has been around for several decades. Come in and see what I mean and get a coke or an ice cream from the counter while you’re doing it.

Support Small Business, Gang. You need to go where everybody knows your name.

And getting back to Hadley Vector Arms, okay, she could play a little basketball and I sympathized with her plight about Girls Basketball getting railroaded when it was painfully clear that it had a place on the stage, probably more so than Boys Basketball. What I like about my college team, the Women’s Basketball team hoops in the same building as the Men’s Basketball team, unlike many other universities that relegate Women’s Basketball to sideshow status and a crackerbox gym.

But, damn, that don’t mean you’re Miss Universe. You get on the Nordic Track machine by the door leading into Trey’s secret toilet, the same one he used to flush steroids down the drain when the Milford Police knocked at the front door, and you pump those calves and triceps while you’re slaving over a case brief involving Milford Foundry’s rezoning dispute with the Milford Neighborhood Association over a piece of property that could potentially harbor a smelting operation dealing with titanium and plastic at the expense of environmental issues (“Whew!!!!!!! Those Hefty Trash Bags are a bit strong today!!!!!!!!!!!”) , and you think you have a right to show up in the back flap of a Little Lotta Comix along with Charles Atlas? Get real.

The wimpy weight room that made a man out of Hadley Venom

Hadley Venom in P1 has issues with the weights

“Damn, Trey, this cafeteria tray of 10 pounders ain’t squat. And where’d you get that pulley for the pec machine? I could pull those weights towards my boobs with a toothpick. I won’t win the Milford Row Boat Marathon with those training wheels.”

“Look, I’d kick sand in your face if my Living Room-slash-Body Building Bonanza had any and I’d conk you over the head with that megaton pumping bar in the corner but it’s not under warranty and besides, you’d blow up and dry away.”

Later that evening while Jaquan is practicing at Mildord Lighted Outdoor Courts with Mikey and Pippen

“GODDAMIT!!!!!!!!! I’LL GET TREY AND HIS KINDERGARTEN GYM!!!!!!!!!! ALL RIGHT, I’LL GAMBLE JAQUAN’S STOCKHOLDER’S CHECK AND CASH IT AT MILFORD FEDERAL AND THEN SEND OFF FOR CHARLES ATLAS’ RISK-FREE, MONEY-BACK PROGRAM!!!!!!!! WHAT HAVE I GOT TO LOSE!!!!!!!!!”

Later in P1

“(WHAM!!!!!!!!!!) Are you still around!!!!!! Get outta here and get a real job (BAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!) !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This ain’t a tumor growing outta my arm, pal (BODY SLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Next time you change the laundry room into a weightlifter’s paradise, (BATMAN BAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , don’t buy your weights at Rural King (JOKER SHOVED IN TREY’S TOILET BAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Hey, I’m borrowing a stamp from my dad at his business. I want results just like Hadley the Victorious.

If ya do 50 reps of bench press with yore bloodhound and yore able ta git a Body by Jake and git all th’ fleas ‘n’ tics ‘n’ tapeworms offa yore Man’s best friend simol-TAIN-ee-us-lee, ya might be a redneck.

And we see Pez Top up close, showing off her speed bump, tryin’ to sound like one of the guys by asking if Jaquan needs a spotter. Believe me, there’s a lot of Miss Universe’s out there that deserve to ask that question, even if they never won that portion of the competition. And again, Hadley V. deserves respect for her solid contribution to basketball.

But since when did she just jump in the fire and pull a Heather Burns on us and start TALKING like Jake the Body? Ever heard the term PAY YOUR DUES Thorpiverse or Hadley Veneer? I’ll field the answer from either one of you. I don’t think I’ll be fielding an answer any time in the near future.

Oh Mighty Body Building Queen From The Amenhotep Era When He Was Entombed Under The Sphinx Because He Threw Out His Back Doing Squats, you impress us with your knowledge. You knew Jaquan couldn’t Military Press the WDIG building without a spotter. Wow, with lingo like that in your head, you could go places. Like nowhere, f’rinstance.

Isn’t Hadley Venom and her newfound weightlifting wisdom like Benedict Arnold trying to tell Pearl Harbor how to ward off the attack?  Don’t know ’boutchoo, but I wouldn’t trust somebody who’s already betrayed his country, especially when he’s got a Pepe Le Pew streak in his hairdo. I’d be calling the President.

“This is a day that will live in infamy. Mr. Arnold will have to change hairstylists as a result.”

Nope, if they don’t remove that highway median stripe from their hair, I ain’t gonna listen to their advice on how to proceed with Iwo Jima. They’ll just have to shave their head, thank you very much.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J.-slash-Jack the Ripper To Remove Bar Bells From Basement Valued At Thousands And Thousands Of Dollars!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“My football days are over. I want to build a karaoke bar. There’s enough plywood in the back yard.”

 

So after Jaquan gets done with his second set of curling the Milford High School wrestling mats and taking a jog around the boroughs of Queens and Brooklyn, he really should be dome in time so he doesn’t have to break his dinner date with Hadley Victor Mature in the Sampson Role at Milford Lounge. The Milford Lounge gives a customer 30 minutes before they have to cancel the reservation. But unless there’s a traffic jam on the Brooklyn Bridge, Jaquan should be able to sprint to Shea Stadium and hop in his car, no problem.

 

And I just happen to notice this. Maybe it’s because I’m Gil-blind, one notch below Legally Blind but did Thorpiverse forget to put the finishing touches on Hadley Visage’s visage? Otherwise, what is the purpose of the John-Boy Walton splotch on her face? No better way to improve upon the Bazooka Joe artwork than to leave a spot on her face she got when you spilled a bit of your Sanka.

“Oops!!!!!!!!!! Damn, where’s a Bounty…sayyyyyyyy, not bad.”

Pez Top with a Rorscharch, that’ll liven up the Bubble Gum Comix collection. Bazooka Joe who hangs around with one of his buddies who got a hickey from his dog. Man, I’m just full of ideas. What was the name of the address to send to Bazooka Joe? And I got to send two box tops also, right? Or was it three?

“Lassie, have you been giving John-Boy hickeys again?”

RUFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Rin Tin Tin? He says Benji and you are in on a ring.”

RUFF!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Okay, girl. I’ll tell Mom that Benji gave one to Grandpa Walton. And that you made a special guest appearance on Cannon. That would make sense. You’d catch the bank robbers out of Milford Mutual before that lard-butt would.”

RUFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“They’re putting William Conrad on an Ultra Slim Fast diet?”

RUFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“I don’t like White Chocolate shakes either, girl.”

 

Because I don’t know why I got “Did you mean DON ZIMMER?” when I was looking up Donna Summer

“Heeeeeerrrreeessshhhhhhh Leon Durham wiiiisshhhhhh the bassseshhhhhhes loaded. Boy o Boy, I’d like to get a long one wissshhhhhhh shatttttttt wind blowing out. Say ‘Hello’ to Gil and Mimi from Milford, Iowa. They’re shhheeellllleebrating their 60th wedding aniverssshhhherrryy. They’re lisssshhhhennnninggggggg in on WDIG, home of the Mudlaaaaarrrkkkksssshhhhhhh.”

“Harry, Manager Don Zimmer is doing the moonwalk in the 3rd base box while ‘She Works Hard for the Money’ is blaring over the speakers. With a 3 and 0 count, I gotta believe The Bull has the green light. Zimmer did the splits the other day while ‘MacArthur Park’ was playing and The Penguin was at the plate. Gotta believe with that wind whistling toward the Hancock Tower that The Bull needs to look for something fat to crank.”

I tried to hold back, Robmize, I honestly tried.

 

Let me start off the last leg of this post by saying that the utmost STUPIDEST question in the world in the last 24 hours has to have escaped Gil’s lips in P3. Gil, just because Captain Kangaroo walks up to you does not mean that he needs work on his short game. Really, do you assume that Mr. Green Jeans or Richie Cunningham  need  work with their putting every time they have a $15 Pepsi in their hand? How do you know Mr. Green Jeans might have something else on his mind? Maybe Mr. Moose just had surgery on his gluteus maximus from all that sitting with The Captain and Mr. Green Jeans just needs somebody to unload on about Mr. Moose’s recovery options.

“The doctor says he can sit on his butt in a week or two. He’ll have to take aspirin twice a day and lie on his belly in a heat lamp in the interim. He’ll get a nice tan, anyway.”

 

And where ELSE would ANYONE look for Gil in the month of July???????? The logo on his shirt says it all. Do you see IBM or Coca-Cola or an icon from The Man from Glad?????? Well?????? The 3 Bears from Charmin Bath Tissue??????

“Thanks, Bears. The Port-o-Let on #8 ran out of toilet paper. I had to wipe my ass with these sycamore tree shards. Glad you came by in the golf cart.”

 

I mean, really, there was no need for Hadley Venereal Disease to look anywhere else. Gil was not in a barrel rolling down Niagara Falls. He was not in the Sahara with The French Foreign Legion. It was not necessary to call Encyclopedia Brown and pop a quarter on the gas can and find out that Gil was teaching Bugs Meany how to rotate his hips when teeing off while Bugs Meany was pick-pocketing Gil’s wallet and hair. Wasn’t necessary to call Joe Friday and Bill Gannon as they were on assignment to investigate Tod Andrews’ child pornography allegations anyway.

GANG WHERE ELSE WOULD GIL BE IN THE MONTH OF JULY EVEN WHEN THE GOLF SEASON HAS BEEN TANKED IN THE NAME OF INTRAMURAL TOUCH FOOTBALL

I’ll let you fill in the blank.

Oh, and Hadley-slash-V-slash-Carol Burnett wannabe is trying to make a funny. Well, let’s humor the female Foghorn Leghorn, shall we?

“Gil, do you know what you get when you depose Tiki and ship his ass back to New Thayer to get his ass kicked once again by the Jets?”

“I give up.”

“A defensive half back.”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

 

Gang, comment away. I’m serious, I don’t think a search party for Gil was necessary.

 

Today’s Special Edition of the Milford Enquirer

“Bill Gates No Longer 2nd-Richest Man In The World!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Hadley Vixen finalizes deal with the TimberWolves. Jaquan will get added incentives including a no-trade clause.”

 

From the MCC sound system permeating the 18 hole course

 

Sittin’ here, eatin’ my heart waitin’

Waitin’ for some lover to call…

 

Lookin’ for some hot stuff, baby this evenin’

I need some hot stuff, baby tonight

I want some hot stuff, baby this even9in’

Gotta have some hot stuff

Gotta have some love tonight

 

“Gil, did you get that Bucket Liquor License faxed off to Don Zimmer? He’s part owner in the place, you know.”

“He only has 1/10 stock from where I’m teeing off.”

“Tell his lawyers that. They’re teeing off right behind us.”

 

 

That’s-slash-all-slash-Folks!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

July 16, 2019

What’s This Summer All About?

Filed under: big arms, Just plain sad, Milford Idiots, Piss faced Tiki, Tilden — tdrewhardin @ 8:10 am

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Frankly, I’m confused. Here I was in my Ethan Allen recliner chair, jumbo extra-buttered popcorn in one hand, 2 liter of Diet Coke I froze in the fridge in other hand, more where that came from behind the leftover celery and carrots and spinach dip tray in the Amana, plenty of Mike ‘n’ Ike on the coffee table, running the gamut from sour balls to chocolate gumbo lover’s delight (milk chocolate and okra, mmmmmmm, mmmmmmm) , and I was ready to pop the DVD in the player, I DID pop the DVD in the player, expecting to see the Warner Brothers logo and Bugs Bunny’s face grace the middle of the logo, the Looney Tunes Theme played with aplomb by Metallica, then suddenly Bugs Bunny reclining while munching on another carrot, pulling on the curtain to introduce another installment, “Bugs Breaks Par at MCC” or “Hare Ball with Gil” or even “Bunny Bag Full of Tricks and Clubs”. “5-Iron Hare” wasn’t really going to cut it but I had this barrel of popcorn to balance on the arm rest and beggars can’t be choosers, y’know.

But WAIT A MINUTE!!!!!!!!!! What in the name of Pepe Le Pew was going on? Oh, this stunk all right but it had nothing to do with a skunk trying to hit on Mimi throughout the cartoon.

“Ah, my love. Domp yor hus-BEND and cum wizz me and I weel show you zee fi-NER zings in Oak-WOOD.”

Dating a skunk in another Rockville at their version of The Bucket, playing “Red River Valley” by Red Sovine, the K-Tel version, off the jukebox, it’s easy to see why Mimi rejected Pepe’s advances.

“Phew!!!!!!!!!!!! Damn, Mimi, your blouse stinks to high heaven!!!!!!!!! Man, your whole outfit reeks of roadkill!!!!!!!!! Have you been seeing another man?”

 

Meanwhile, back on the field, I am utterly disappointed. I was expecting a golf plot but got “Alfie”

What’s it all about

TIKI

Is it just for the Summer

You live

 

What’s it all about

When you play it out

The TD reception you give

Or are you meant to cover

Your man

 

And if only fools are toast

Then I guess it’s wise to be Wonder Bread

 

And if the game belongs to the talented

What will you lend based on an old golden rule

 

As sure as I believe there is a Heaven above

I know you can do so much more

Something even non-football converts believe in

I believe in ability

TIKI

 

Without ability, you’re just standing like the goal post

Until you find the receiver, you’re ancient history

TIKI

 

When you find him, stick to him

Like Elmer

And you’ll find the pass meant for

The split end

TIKI

 

Oh TIKI

 

Mortifying a plot by mortifying a pseudo-Othello with one of my favorite in the business, Dionne Warwick. Life is good.

 

I normally wait until the end to comment but Franku brings up an interesting point. Why is Tiki playing if they are essentially ruling him ineligible? Gang, when I was coaching Babe Ruth Baseball, we couldn’t touch high school players from their teams until we got a written release from their coach. Don’t want Big Brother a/k/a High School Athletic Association snoopin’ around and seeing if a couple of high school pitchers are doing warm-ups with the rest of the staff or the high school catcher running laps around the complex without either scenario’s John Henry stating it was all good to go.

I have to believe Tilden wouldn’t cross the Alps with Hannibal and the rest of the elephants and hippos for a non-sanctioned event, let alone playing a team with somebody at the mercy of a School Board meeting. It’s bad enough trying to find enough water to water down the hippos but does Tilden have to get tangled up in Blues (oh, shit, turn off that Dylan CD, T. Drew) , uh, tangled up in someone else’s hippo poop? Well, I guess what Dylan was talking about and what I’m talking about might as well be the same only you can’t bring a hose to a School Board meeting. You’ll just have to come without Pepe.

“What do yoo men, I cant cum to zee mee-TING? I can strai-zen zees hole zing out. I can bribe zee luvlee lady Board Member wiz my charms-and a Buck-EET Bur-GAIR. Estee Lauder and BEEG Macs wark ev-er-EE time. ”

Anyway, Tilden crossed the Rubicon without a hitch. It’ll be Gil’s cross to bear when it comes to Alfie, er, Tiki.

 

Come to Galan’s Meat’s in Louisville, Kentucky. They are just about to move in a new building and I can see why. They offer the freshest meats around from ground round to prime rib to bar-b-q ribs. And it is cut daily so you are in for a treat. And if you want a sandwich, from pork chop to hamburger, with sides like potato salad or cole slaw, the grill is continually smokin’ until closing time. Man, my mouth is watering even as I text. They are on Market Street in West Louisville, Kentucky and you owe it to yourself to dig in. I sure did.

Support Small Business. You need to go where everyone knows your name.

 

“Hi, this is Joe Sharkey. If you’ve been injured in an accident, you need money to pay the medical bills. Insurance companies are digging through the playbook to look for ways to run over, out-hustle, out-block, out-play, and out-smart the competition.

Don’t be like Loser Jensen here in P1 who got torched for a Fly pattern and subsequently watched the insurance companies high-five each other in the end zone. They will stop at nothing to run up the score. If they can’t beat you on the field, believe me, they will yank out the rule book and try to beat you on a technicality.”

“I got my bell rung when a construction worker tried to dig up the street to get to a pipeline, blasting the sucker with dynamite and the manhole cover conking me out and ripping a side of my face. The insurance companies tried to get technical by saying our receiver’s birth certificate was notarized a day after the Notary Public’s term expired. Thank God, The Shark had a stopwatch and determined that the Notary signed the affidavit 10 minutes before he turned into a pumpkin. Thanks, Shark.”

“You heard right. Don’t let insurance companies cheat you out of the TD you ran and the face-lift you deserve because they were trying to get a replay from some schmuck’s cheap K-Mart camcorder. Call 1-FON-THE-JAWS and get the money you deserve.”

 

Oooooooooookkkkkkkkk, so we’re not going the injury lawyer route in P1. Hadley Venom is not going to be an ambulance chaser and get the insurance number for Tiki when he gets his face spiked by a Tilden fullback.

Then there’s the other question “Is this a dream within a dream?”, to quote Alan Parsons off “Tales of Mystery & Imagination.” In other words, the Tilden players, coaches, elephants, hippos, cheetahs, chimpanzees, etc. are here to stay, at least in the next few days (“In your FACE, Curious George!!!!!!!!”, “C’mon, Babar, do the Sack Dance with me!!!!!!!!!”) , but what of the plot per se? Will this be a mini-plot that lasts until Labor Day, then we turn on the afterburners and find out Jaquan wants to coach the receivers and marry Hadley Vertigo on the 50-yard line and watch the Mudlark players work out the logistics of setting up the altar, arranging for the minister, rehearsing with Ed Asner (GOOD ONE, TEENCHY) on giving away his daughter, constructing the reception table with Marty Moon as the DJ (Can’t have Booby do it, Rockville’s still mad at him; and Ernie the P has lost his audience. Imagine Harold Stassen spinning Carl Perkins’ “Honey Don’t” on the turntable and you get the idea) , everyone rehearsing throwing rice at the couple, and hiring a limo to haul them off to Mudlark Lake Resort for the honeymoon?  BTW, as long as Luhm is around with a mega-blower that could knock over the Sears Tower, the rice ought to cleared out at least as far as Siberia in time for the real thing. The limo should drive of with Uncle Ben in its tread. But the question remains with the Minute Rice question laid to rest. Is this or is this not a mini-plot?

Or will this blend into the football season and Heather Burns returns to give Tiki pointers on how to properly blindside your opponent, especially in his private areas when he’s not learning Torts and Comparative Fault from Hadley Victim’s Rights? One day, he’s learning the proper footwork on how to defense a tight end, then the next day, he’s in a courtroom soaking up 49 ways to prepare a case brief (“Make sure you do what Alice Cooper does and come early in the morning when nobody’s around the Xerox machine.”) And this pas de deux gracefully saunter for months leading into Thanksgiving? Gang, aren’t you excited? Time to hit the microwave and nuke another Jiffy Pop while I’m rewinding the DVD. And if Charlie from My Three Sons, er, Heather Burns’ dad returns with a vengeance, it’s time to get the White Castle cheeseburgers out of the freezer and nuke those too. Can’t have enough excitement on this website, don’t ya know.

 

If ya’s playin’ in a 7-on-7 Weekend Softball Tournament and ya wanna play center field cuz ya wanna work off the excess Falls City by chasin’ down all the balls hit down the left field line cuz the manager ain’t got a left fielder amongst his 7 players and yore cut-off man is yore Sterling-bellied pitcher,  ya might be a redneck.

 

“Coach!!!!!!!! Coach!!!!!!!!!! I know who shot Coach Shaw!!!!!!!!!!!”

“GREAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me get on my cell phone with the police!!!!!!! Who was it?”

“It was———-”

WHAM!!!!!!!!!!!!! BAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

‘Sorry, Coach, we need to fix that lock. but we oughta be able to lure that hippo back to the trailer with some prime rib.”

“I understand, but now we’re down to 7-on-6.”

 

 

P2-“Dude, your head is so far up your ass, the chimpanzees might mistake you for an ostrich. You are really out of it today.”

“Not true. I am perfectly focused and ready for the next play.”

“Well. I’d put on my helmet before you got on the field instead of that earthen pot of marigolds you got in your hand from the gardens of the Milford Public Library grounds.”

Trying to put it on

“Is there any Miracle-Gro in the equipment shed?”

 

Come to The Bookworm in Corydon, Indiana. There is wide selection of used books that can suit just about any fancy that has been satisfying mine for several years. I LOVE their Louis L’Amour collection, being a Western buff, so I frequent the place as much as I’m humanly able. There is a book that is bound to cater to any taste so you owe it to yourself to talk to a friendly face or two and check out the selection. Their cook books are to die for, Gang. Support Small Business. You need to go where everybody knows your name.

 

 

 

Oh, look, Howdy Doody had an interracial marriage at some point in his career and his progeny is in P3. Love that toothy smile. And nice to see the gloves he obtained when he skinned a leopard either from the Tilden caravan or out in the woods where the mutant poplars abide. Leopards aren’t picky. And, evidently, neither is Howdy VI.

I agree that Tiki should dial it in. He has all these legal terms as well as the play book to memorize, for pete’s sake. Give him time. Rezoning Variance and a buttonhook pattern can be Hell to memorize in one night.

 

“And the gun goes off, indicating the end of the 3rd quarter, with the score, Tilden, 37, Milford, 34. This is Marty Moon at the 7-on-7 scrimmage on Mudlark Practice Field and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

“Folks, if you’re like me, you grew up with all the games shows like Joker’s Wild to Concentration to The Match Game. And with game show hosts like Bill Cullen or Pat Sajak, you couldn’t go wrong with great personalities with a nifty sense of humor.

But there’s one game show host that you, the customers, voted as the one you’d kill for an autograph were he 50 feet from your person. That’s right, Wink Martindale was the man most people would run over their grandmother for while driving their pickup truck should they ever be confronted with the opportunity. Even if the light was red.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp on behalf of Milford Beverage Warehouse. And from now until the end of July, if you’ll come in with a memento of ol’ Wink himself, you’ll receive a 12-pack of your favorite brew and a $2 bag of chips. Mmm, mmm, I think I have that newspaper clip in the 1978 Milford Enquirer of Wink in the TV section hosting The Gong Show. Chuck Barris was sick with the flu that day so Wink pinch-hit in superb fashion with a group of parakeets singing “Don’t Leave Me This Way” the winner. Only Wink and Thelma Houston could do it any better. God, that Pabst Blue Ribbon Dark and a $2 bag of Mike-Sell’s Pork Rinds. And I have Wink to thank for that. Thanks, Mr. Martindale.

Sorry, it won’t do any good to bring in your scrap book photos of Bob Clayton when he was hosting Concentration, coaxing another homemaker to victory with the phrase “Moose Lye-k-Lee 2 Sox-Seed.” She might have won a trip to the Bahamas and a Home Version of Concentration but she’ll get no free booze here. She’ll need to go the Milford Public Library for a microfiche in the ’70’s of Wink hosting the $25,000 Pyramid (“You have a jaw like Roger Moore from James Bond.” “Did you do your hair at the Milford Dry Cleaners? You could put another face of Mount Rushmore on it.” “THINGS YOU’D SAY TO WINK!!!!!!!!” DING DING DING DING) if she wants her Stroh’s Lite ‘n’ Firm and Lay’s Vinegar ‘n’ Borscht.

And don’t bother with your 3-D photos of Art Fleming. I know you purists think Alex Trabek ruined Jeopardy and you’d like the old-school game show hosts to grace the stage once again (“Game Show Hosts for $200.” “He hosted Jeopardy back in the early ’70’s and got a hickey from a soccer mom when she got the Daily Double correct.” “Who is Dick Clark?” “No, that is incorrect…”) but Art Fleming and his nasally sexy voice won’t get you a Bud Gold and the $2 box of Rice Chex Mix that goes with it. It’s either Wink Martindale or you are listening to a report from the stock yards.

 

Bring in that photo of you posing with Wink and Mickey Mouse at Milford Disney World and get a free slice of The Good Life for your troubles. C’mon, people, do ya really want to do a Polaroid of you and Gene Rayburn at the beach of Mudlark Lake? I hope Gene has plenty of UV protection. You deserve to be compensated for your loyalty to a man who was considered by Entertainment Weekly to be the most influential game show host of the ’80’s and ’90’s. Get on down here with your 8 x 10 of ol’ Wink for some Miller Lite and pretzels and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

Comment away. I get the feeling this is gonna drag on and on and on and…

Do ya really wanna see this in another commercial along with the Energizer Bunny? Thought so.

 

You better let somebody lovvvvveeeee you

TIKI

 

“Ahhhhhhh, Tiki, cum into my arms, don’t beeee shy, Pepe weel hep yoo get away from Haz-LEE Ve-NOME, DON’T RON AWAYYYYYY”

 

You better let somebody ELSE love you

TIKI

July 3, 2019

Jaquan Muffed a Pass But He Couldn’t Pass a…

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Aww, time for the meet-cute (more specifically, the meet-again-cute).  Over dishes stolen from the Coffee Cantina, Gil pretends to care about how Jaquadley hooked up. Deep into his second round of Long Island iced tea, he starts to slump in his chair as Hadley – thankfully not referring to herself in the third person – goes into flashback mode.  Guessing the rounded frame corners are Whigham’s shorthand for a flashback, not going full Batiuk with sepia tones and photo album corners.

Given Rubin’s poor pacing abilities, I have no clue how long he will drag this flashback out. If it ends up with Steve Luhm peering angrily through the Milford CC dining room windows before being tossed out on his ear, it might hold my interest.

 

June 27, 2019

How Con-VEEEEN-ient!!!!! Hadley V. Is Back!!!!!

Filed under: big arms, Gil Thorp, Milford Weirdos — tdrewhardin @ 9:22 am

 

 

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Okay, we think Jaquan is only kidding when he says he’d like some golf lessons. We think. I know I wouldn’t be spilling my guts in front of an 8-year-old about how I keep slicing everything between the hedges or the poplars or the Midford Country Club Snack Bar tables unless it was in jest. But maybe he’s trying to pull another Bo Jackson on us. Y’know, another 3 panels, another hobby.

To be fair, it’s not entirely out of the question. Alice Cooper, of “School’s Out” fame (“School’s Out(album)” and “Billion Dollar Babies”, classic, you whippersnappers) , is an excellent golfer. I model a lot of my exercise program based upon his advice on how to get better in golf. He always got up EARLY, 6:00-ish in the morning because NOBODY was at the Milford Country Club Golf Course. Yup, Gil and Mimi were still in bed. It was the best time to be there because the weather in Milford was still cooler, plus NOBODY was there to give him advice, No Gil lecturing Alice on his follow-through while Gil was sipping on his cocktail. Alice could work out the kinks that way.

And it paid off. He was consistently golfing with the golf heavyweights (Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus, et al) , gaining respect as a force to be reckoned with in the golf world. In fact, Arnold Palmer wanted him to go pro, good words from a man who knew a thing or two about winning the Masters, not to mention graduating from Wake Forest, a long-time powerhouse in Men’s Golf and Women’s Golf.

Alice Cooper definitely considered it but swallowed HARD and in the end felt that a serious devotion to the sport would take away from his ability to perform on stage. Which made sense. Trying to juggle working on golf for several hours and rehearsing for his next show and then letting all out in front of the bright lights to 10,000+ would have taken its toll on the body. In the end, Alice Cooper wisely declined.

But Jaquan, I don’t know. Hasn’t he already been through one hobby? What’s he going to do, work on his swing along with the other 8th graders in the instructional workout?

“C’mon, Case, grip the club!!! Look at Wally Cleaver!!!! He’s got a sleeper hold on his stick!!!!!!”

Gil working with a guy he didn’t coach in high school and trying to show him how to putt on #3, Par 3, straight shoot to the cup, being in line behind 7th graders with their Play-Doh putters, Goliath learning along with the Munchkins how to sink a 6-footer. Works for me.

 

 

“Church Lady, I just want to see what I got. I went over to the Milford Putt Putt and shot one through the cannon for a hole-in-one. Trey and Luhm and Pearse were there if you want witnesses. Heck, they’re more trustworthy than my ex-Bishop Tardy teammates. And I got the ball more often at the Milford Pro-Am Roundball Classic. Pearse dished the dimes to this phone booth.”

“WELL!!!!!!! Aren’t you SPECIAL!!!!!!! A man has the career golf game of his life ditching the crocodiles by shooting a direct line over the drawbridge at Putt Putt #7 and gets an epiphany exhorting him to ask Gil for lessons at the Milford Country Club because he is divinely entitled to them!!!!!!!!!”

“If I can shoot it through the maze at Putt Putt #9 and avoid The Minotaur, why not?”

“Young man (Church Lady rubbing her hands profusely and her right cheek swelling with its usual saccharine amount of piety) , you have no business sweating with the masses at the MCC Golf Course. ‘Suffer the children’ is right. You have no right to hack at a Titleist that causes Kylie and her other 8-year-old girlie girl friends to puke all over their 9-irons.”

“Luhm cleaned up the mess on the greens. He needs something to do when he’s not buffing the Mudlark gym.”

“But God couldn’t stand the stench. It ruined Last Supper. Stick to the NBA or God will slam dunk you with a lightning bolt.”

 

Now that Baxendale is back, something not entirely surprising to the TWIM readers, WHAT does the ‘V’ stand for? Vaya con dios????? That has been the $64,000 question ever since her persona was hatched about 14 years ago. Okay, so “Vaya con dios, a little more arch on the ball when you’re shooting free throws!!!!!” sounds melodramatic but taking a stab SOMEWHERE might help narrow down the mystery. And I think we can rule out “Viagara”. It’s hard for me to believe that was on anybody’s mind when she was being christened. “Valporaiso”. Possible. Her parents could have been reading a Rand-McNally Atlas on Indiana or Chile while trying to solve the mystery. “Hadley” and Valparaiso” on the birth certificate. Supposin’ it’s better than flipping to the Mexico page and designating her “Hadley Veracruz Baxendale”.

 

P1: “Sure, Kanamit Jaquan, I can teach you to work on how to rotate the hips on your drives. I’m not doing anything anyway. Just giving the kids a few tips and watchin’ the wheels go ’round and ’round. Like Lennon, I really love to watch them swing.”

“SUPER, I really need a few pointers before that Open back on our planet. You wouldn’t want to go along, would you?”

 

Jaquan and Church Lady get pulled over by Texas Ranger Studman Machomania Kent Walker Shaw

Wary of getting in trouble over Writ of Habeas Corpus

“I pulled you over cuz your driver’s side brake light is busted. What are you here fer, anyhow?”

“We came by to say hello to Coach Thorp. We heard he was coaching the kids at the Milford Country Club.”

“Alright, get out of the car, both a ya”

“I’m ‘rrestin’ ya fer 2nd Degree Perjury. I ain’t seen Gil do any coachin’ since ’79. Ya have a right to remain silent, if ya giv’ up th’ right ta remain silent…”

After Miranda is done

“Any questions?”

“Yeah, can she change out of that purple garb?? I don’t think I can stomach lookin’ at that at the Milford Detention Center. Nor her glasses.”

 

Writing out the arrest warrant

“Awright, say it again. How many O’s in ‘Velcro’?”

 

And P2 is interesting. Evidently, Church Lady a/k/a Hadley Vladimir Baxendale a/k/a soon-to-be Hadley Vladimir Baxendale-Case has surprised and stunned Gil to the point that the Exploding Eye Effect has caused him to drop his left eye on the ground. Sorta like losing a contact lens. And why should he be surprised? Who does he think he was dating, Alice the Maid? She could be a mother hen to the Brady Bunch but doubt she knew much about how to steer a jock from bolting early to the NBA to getting his degree in History.

“Oh, you’ll just love Pepperdine. I majored in Art History and did my Independent Study on Raphael. Did my field studies three times, one in Venezia, one in Napoli, and one in Fiorenze. Scored an A-. Genoa was to die for. I learned that’s where Raphael learned the law. He and Abe Lincoln were studying Art Law Theory. BTW, ya wanna throw all your dirty gym shorts in the hamper? I’m about to do a load.”

And we can eliminate Betty from Archie and the Gang. She is still in love with him no matter how many times he shits on her in favor of Veronica. Hell, Archie might have competition with Jaquan. Y’know how Mr. Lodge wants Veronica dating he-man macho jocks such as Jaquan. Made for Mr. Lodge giving her away at the altar. Betty is always available should that ever occur.

Sooooooooooooo, Jaquan and Church Lady, er, Hadley Veronica SHIT, Hadley V. show up to express their respects to the one person who has made Milwaukee, er, Milford famous by sitting in the chaise lounge while Kylie wins the Masters and snatches the green jacket away from Tiger. Then Gil goes to pieces, literally.

“No worries, Coach. Lenscrafters is running a BOGO special this week. Buy one eyeball at regular price, get the second one free.”

“Thanks, Church Lady. Got an image to protect. I can’t coach these Junior Golfers looking like Cyclops’ cousin. People might think we grew up together.”

“We like ourselves…..DON’T WE???????”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Denies Any Relationship With Church Lady After Seen At The Bucket Together!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Ain’t no way I’m gettin’ engaged to some granny with the worst-lookin’ orthopedic shoes since ‘Maude’.”

 

And, Gang, if no one else will say it I WILL. In p3, that has got to be the most raggedly looking hair color Hadley V. has worn since she graced the stage to put girls basketball on the map. I have LONG been a supporter of Women’s Athletics, our high school girls golf team garnering several State Championships, and I mean, all comers in the State, not Class A or Class AA, etc. I have supported the bench warmer up to the star of the team in any sport. I like how the college I follow has LONG made Women’s Athletics a priority.

That said, she looks like a St. Bernard. Is it necessary to streak her hair like that or is that one of the reasons Jaquan is attracted to her. I’ll concede she is very attractive but

“Man, the way you shake those hips and slobber at the same time really gets me going.”

Diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks, I reckon.

I just couldn’t see Miss Kitty with that hair style at the Dodge City Saloon. It was bad enough she was just cannon fodder for the show while Matt Dillon executed any action. Sure, Matt going after the Dalton Gang while Miss St. Bernard washes the shot glasses. It may have lasted 20+ plus years with that formula but I turned it off after Dillon took care of the Clanton Boys and the next scene was Miss St. Bernard at the Amana Dishwasher.

 

At the Milford Football Stadium where Commencement is taking place

“…John William Barlow…”

“Congratulations, son, good luck at Harvard.”

“Thank you.”

“…Jennifer Marie Baumann…”

“Congratulations. Break a leg in the Navy.”

“Thank you, I will.”

“…Hadley Vanadium Baxendale…”

“Congratulations. We’ll see you in 14 years. Good luck at Milford Technical & Vocational College.”

“Thank you.”

 

Comment away, Gang. Some of you already have and I humbly thank you. You’re the reason for my posts, Y’all. Can’t do it without you.

 

“Harry Caray back in Wrigley talking with Hadley Vending Machine Baxendale. Vending Machine, congratulations on being promoted to general manager.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

“So what about the trade rumors involving Sutcliffe?”

“Not true. Rick has proven to be a major player in our plans and will play a mighty role in the future, #2 behind Steve Trout.”

“Vendy, are you looking to shore up the infield? I know Moreland can play a little 1st base but is that for trade bait?”

Waving off Steve’s cigar smoke with her hand

“Well. Steve, we’re on the table for anything, including Jaquan…”

 

Robmize will kill me if he sees me in Wrigley.

 

“Why do you come across so pious? You’re the most sanctimonious individual I have interviewed on WDIG Talk Radio.”

“Marty, I don’t know. It’s just that when I look at that beard, I ask myself, ‘Now who could he be? Could he be…SATAN??????’ But what was he doing at The Bucket for the “Bucket Shakes 1/2 Off Happy Hour? Perhaps demons can slurp one down too.”

June 15, 2019

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

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

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

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

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

April 27, 2019

I Think We’ve Made a Breakup – I Mean, Breakthrough

Filed under: big arms, freak hands, Gil Thorp, Secret Thoughts, shadow figures, softball — teenchy @ 8:05 am

gt04272019

“You also don’t want the baggage of a high school boyfriend when you go off to college. Know what?  I don’t want the baggage of a high school girlfriend when I go off to college, either.”

“Well, that’s settled.”

Okay, I suppose we could’ve expected this turn.  It was too much to expect that Linda was all pissy just because she wanted her teammates to be as dedicated to playing softball as she was.  I’ve seen that IRL before, from kids who’ve done nothing but sports as an extracurricular all their lives. They (or, more likely, their parents) see the sports as their only ticket to a college scholarship to the exclusion of all else, sometimes including academics. That there may be other paths warps their fragile little minds.

In Linda’s case, volleyball is that ticket out of Milford.  Now, David has planted the seeds of FUD in her head.  Let’s hope she doesn’t tear up that ticket; last thing we want to see is Rubin bringing her back in three years paying to have “FIRE MIMI THORP!” billboards up on the edge of town.

Pity that kids these days don’t know the satisfaction of slamming a handset into the receiver to end a call. They don’t make ’em like that anymore.

 

January 29, 2019

There’s No Such Thing As A Bad Boy. Just Bad Plots.

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Let me be SERIOUS for a minute. I agree with Coach Kaz that if something on the radio, TV, podcast, CD player, record player, electronic media devices, offends you or you don’t like what you hear TURN IT OFF. I have long been an advocate of this idea rather than let self-righteous hypocrites tell us what we can or cannot listen to.

Those who say that, for example, that Black Sabbath leads people down the wrong road don’t wash with me. I’ve been a Sabbie forever (“Technical Ecstasy” and “Volume 4” on the cassette player while balancing equations in high school Chemistry-the memories) and I have a medical doctor in my family. Those who LET another human being get in their heads have nobody to blame but THEMSELVES.

You have the power right within the radio dial.

USE IT.

George Burns was right. You may not be able to change the world but you can always change the channel.

 

Okay, soap box aside, was Coach Kaz listening in on the conversation? Was he smoking a couple of Lucky Strikes from that one guy’s locker? Such sleight-of-hand. Just sneak in before the basketball guys are done at the water fountain, hide behind the lost and found box (if you can stand the stench, Coach-me, I would’ve come clean rather than smell 3-day-old jock strap odor permeate through the pile) , wait ’til they all pass through, listen to them plot the Invasion of Poland, then pounce on ’em and tell ’em they better take Sweden instead. Not as many people and more blonds. The Swedish Bikini Team might be touring the country. Worth conquering, in other words. Just a suggestion. Just don’t send Enola Gay to pinpoint a billboard. Off limits. What would the UN think?

 

And I just FREEZE when I hear the word “loophole”. I can’t even imagine the scenario but here goes.

Our anti-heroes wind up skinny-dipping in some farmer’s pond with the cows on the other end eating the chili dogs and Jack they received when Ol’ McDonald returned that slab of tenderloin he hocked at the Milford 4-H Hoedown to MBW,  giving Roberto the swirlie of his life. Coach Kaz is out digging for worms for bait when he goes trout-fishing at Mudlark Lake and catches our anti-heroes (C’mon, did you ever see Captain America give Spiderman a swirlie?) in the act.

“I thought I told you to leave Roberto alone. So what’s the deal?”

“He accepted our invitation to go for a midnight swim. He challenged us to a fight after we said his mother advertises World’s Finest Chocolate off her pickle wagon. What could we do? We couldn’t run out on the road with the County sheriff patrolling the beat. We had no choice but to stand our ground.”

Like Coach Stuard used to teach me, good teams find a way around the  rules, if necessary. No better example than this.

 

Thanks to Matt Maloney, of Louisville, Kentucky, with help with the above comedy idea. Keep up the good work at your job, Matt. You work HARD and DEFINITELY represent America.

 

And don’t even go there in P3. Okay, the team is going to try to circumvent Kaz’s Mandate because, well, they’re kids. So you can’t give Roberto a swirlie on School Grounds. Fair enough. you still got the Milford Mall bathroom, McDonald’s, Milford Kwik-EE Mart and all you need is the key for the last one. Simple. Keep Roberto in the trunk, someone go get the key and tell them they had one Bucket Chili Dog too many, procure the Gateway to Relief, get Asshole Roberto out of the trunk, get him to bathroom before anyone  can write  more nasty stuff on the walls (“Roberto sits all broken-hearted/Tried to poop but only farted”) , stick in his head in designated Hell hole. Fun is sure to follow.

And if Kaz comes in unexpectedly for the munchies and has to have 3 bags of Doritos $4  Organic Nacho Supreme, what can he do? Okay, call the police but they weren’t on School Grounds!!!!!!! Not that I’m encouraging this but where the hell are they going in P3???????? This is The Sopranos getting out the car. Did they make sure Roberto had concrete shoes on while dumping him in Mudlark Lake???????? He just insulted the coach, not attacked The Don’s order. Well, finish the job, Sopranos, er, Mudlarks, and let’s get back to basketball. And keep your silencers in your lockers.

 

This is the city. Milford, USA. An average-sized town with plenty of activity, some not always on the level. That’s when I go to work. My name’s Friday. I carry a badge.

It was drizzling in Milford. The weatherman call for The Rapture later. My partner, Bill Gannon, and I were assigned to the Domestic Fraud and Dismemberment Department, Adult Division. The boss is Captain Mr. Clean.

There had been unconfirmed reports of abnormal, illicit, and illegal toilet operations. SWAT team members had been investigating  restaurants and bars off of anonymous tips we received from our alert citizens. They traced the illegal trade to the Milford Lounge and The Bucket.

“So whattya think?”

“Nuthin’ yet. Still got all night.”

“What thrill do kids get from sticking a classmate’s head down the john?”

“Beats me. We did the same thing to the Japanese when I was in the Service. Spilled their guts right down to the vanilla sushi. Got one to say Emperor Hirohito was the AntiChrist rather than douse his head in a neglected barracks latrine. A PFC got a month’s KP cuz he forgot Latrine Duty. Geez, the stink. Smelled like Coach Shaw after he bombed Pearl Harbor in Gil’s WC. No wonder why the man cracked.

Gannon looks through his lorgniette.

“Joe, I think we got trouble.”

“And plenty of. Let’s go.”

We spotted some teenagers pulling into the drive-in of The Bucket. We thought nothing of it until we saw them get out of the car. Normally, they grab the speaker and order the usual teenage fare, cheeseburgers, chocolate shakes and what-not. When they didn’t tip the car hop, I suspected trouble. We STILL had to catch them in the act. Headquarters wasn’t going to accept arresting a punk because he tipped Carly the Car Hop a $2 bill nor because he spit too much into his A & W Root Beer Bucket Float. We had to wait untoil at least Carly took a smoke break behind the dumpster. There’d be no swirlies there.

“Hey, there’s nerdnik Roberto over there!!!!!” “Where?”

“Over there, stupid.  Eatin’ in that corner booth with those women he  called on the Milford Singles Line. Dang, he runs the gamut. One’s a divorcee, once married to Dr. Pearl’s nephew, one’s an old maid,  Granny Clampett’s sister, I hear, one’s 350 pounds after she got blackballed from a Weight Watcher’s meeting-”

“Cut the trivia, dude!!!!!! Everybody ready?? At the count of 3, let’s whoop some butt and give his head a home-made Bucket Chocolate/Vanilla Twirl.”

They grabbed the initiative before we could make our move. Fortunately, the SWAT team was waiting in the girls’ bathroom while Gannon called for back-ups. You never knew with these punks. They were liable to throw Bucket Orange & Lime Yogurt at you and get it all over your jacket with the Lions Club lapel on it. You couldn’t be too careful.

The SWAT team reacted swiftly and none too soon, throwing tear gas in Stall #3. Those punks never stood a chance. They came out with their hands out while Roberto grabbed a paper towel because the Air Blower was out of order. The smoke would be there for days.

“Police officers!!!!!!!!! You’re under arrest!!!!!!

“Don’t shoot!!!!!!!! Don’t shoot!!!!!!!!!

Man, I get a boner to this day rounding up teenage ne’er-do-wells.

“Awwwwrright, Gannon, read ’em their rights.”

Gannon obliged, then asked one final question.

“Was it really worth it???? All you had to do was listen to another radio station. I heard Anderson Cooper is really down on Gil for lack of action or interest.”

“Yeah. We just couldn’t take any more. If we could snuff this mug, we could listen to Fibber McGee once again. His closet stinks but at least he makes sense. And he never criticizes the coach.

“Yeah???? Well, you’re going to share a cell with Daddy Bader while Roberto will still be on the air. And you still ain’t playing basketball.”

Eerie music cuts in, as it always does when Friday scores a touche.

DUM DA DUM DUM

 

DUM DA DUM DUM DUMMMMMMMMMMM

“On January 3rd, trial was held in the Milford Superior Court. In a moment, the results of that trial.”

 

Okay, Gene Rayburn is back, at the ready with another Match Game 2019 question. Take ‘er away, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought her ________________ would be great for R/Bobby to advertise on billboards.”

 

“On January 3rd, the Milford Superior Court found the Milford Mudlark Basketball team guilty of one count of recklless gang activity according to the Milford Penal Code Article 35, Section 21, punishable by probation to 5 years in the Milford Penitentiary, and 23 counts of plot inertia, according to Milford Penal Code Article 475, Section 95, Clause 103, punishable by Life Confinement to the Milford Gym or 5-10 years in the same, dependent on the degree of the swirlie.”

“The team now serving lay-up drills for 7 years until a parole hearing is scheduled in 2023.”

 

DING DONGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!! HI HONEY, I’M HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Gil, you don’t have to ring the doorbell. This is your house!!!!!!!!”

“Oops, sorry. I was so carried away with that deal at Milford Beverage Warehouse that I forgot I wasn’t at Kaz’s house for Scrabble and Bud.”

“So you remembered to return the Amish macaroni salad you concealed in your ’93 football playbook?Did Dr. Pearl ever suspect that you took it from the faculty loung3e after the Milford Teachers’ Beer Bonanza Celebration?”

“Hell, no, they had to cart Pearl off to the Milford Emergency Clinic after she downed a fifth of Jack with no chaser. Tod Andrews was the Designated Driver. AND she still thinks Luhm crammed it under his dustpan before he was scheduled to turn on all the Raid Defogger cans to get rid of the fleas. Caramel quiche has a way of attracting fleas, I guess.”

“Did the Beverage guy ever tell you where the food was going?”

“He said they’ll be taking it to the Milford Food Pantry. Somebody desperate enough and tired of devouring old Michelin tires like Wile E. Coyote will chow down on Road Runner souffle and not-yet-moldy potato salad. He also said the Pantry sprays Lysol on everything before E. Coli can spread. There’ll be no Plague in Milford, believe me. Wile E. can confidently chew Road Runner meat knowing the USDA enforces no lice on a dead Road Runner or Bucket Burgers that have been under the heat lamp too long. But I got my 24-Pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon, I’m happy.”

“And what about the Dolly Madison Zingers?”

“They didn’t lose color. And the icing’s still fresh. We FedEx’d those and the Oreos to a mission somewhere off the coast of El Salvador. I negotiated for 2 Patron Reposado Teqauilas but the Warehouse wanted more Twinkies thrown in the transaction to earn another bottle. Damn, if only Coach Shaw wasn’t off another Hostess binge after he shot that raccoon.”

“Darling, I’m glad there’s somewhere to go to dump your unwanted condiments, the ones that wound up in Nativity No-Man’s Land. Sorta like those misfit toys that Santa found a home for. It’s nice that Dr. Pearl’s month-old carrot cake found a home. I heard Bumbles is still snarfing it after Herbie the Dentist got him a new pair of dentures (“Herbie doesn’t like to make carrot cake”, Herbie doesn’t…etc.) . The cake was disintegrating in your glove compartment.”

“Shoot, they gave me a Coors Light Keg o’ Tall Boys for that and even offered to give back the carrot cake if I’d let them have it krausened.”

 

“Boy, we could go on with this Boswell on the Milford Beverage Warehouse all night but it would probably wind up in the ER with Dr. Pearl, so don’t take our word for it. Bring back that box of KFC Buffalo Fries you’ve got stashed in the attic behind Grandma’s organ and get a fresh start. And a fresh Michelob. Sounds like a winner to me.”

 

Gang, I apologize. I have been FRANTICALLY trying to get this posted after my original got erased again. Still in the Dark Ages on technical wizardry. Thank you eternally for your patience. You mean A LOT to me.

 

“Wait a minute, Gil. There’s no ‘k’ in ‘sabbatical’.”

“Whatever. It’s a hard sound. Close enough. You already owe me 3 Buds. Don’t run up a bill.”

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