This Week in Milford

January 15, 2020

You Gotta Have ‘Watha

Filed under: basketball, big arms, freak hands, Gil Thorp, Madison Time — teenchy @ 6:59 am

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You might think that a kid named Hiawatha would be nicknamed “Hi” but this is the world of the comics. Beetle Bailey’s brother-in-law already goes by that name and even though Gil Thorp has been around since 1958, the Walker-Browne Comics Consortium has seniority. Then again maybe Rubin has baseball on the brain and was thinking of long-time Royals catcher (and later manager) John Wathan. I know The Duke was who first came to my mind; after all, Hiawatha is a catcher too. Since I have baseball on the brain, it naturally followed that I thought of that seminal work on Japanese baseball and its reflection of Japanese culture.*

Time for the Mudlarks to start conference play and boy is Chris Schuring edgy. ‘Watha (sporting a new ‘do since football season) and Tom “Butt” Muench try to calm Chris, but little do they know about Chris’ secret humiliation in Gil’s office. Sure, it’s one thing to tell someone to trust their instincts, but what if their instincts and their coach’s directive conflict? Something tells me there’ll be a lot of passing but not a lot of scoring, and the Mudlarks will leave Madison with a big L. If that other big L Teddy DeMarco ends up stuffed in a locker by Saturday, it’ll have been worth it.

 

*If you’re bored this winter and in need of some hot stove reading material, I highly recommend you pick up a copy.

January 8, 2020

Susan Gets the Cherries, Alexa Gets the Pits

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What else do Alexa Watson and Chris Schuring have in common besides being in competition for Milford High valedictorian? A reluctance to take shots, apparently.  If not for the media relations director of the National Cherry Festival (at least I think that’s who she is; fits Rubin’s MO of Pure Michigan shout-outs), the Lady Mudlarks might not have been able to hang on to beat the Lady Raiders.

Phoebe manages to elude the disembodied fist threatening to bonk her on the head to deliver the message to Alexa. Dunno if that was spontaneous or if Mimi planted that bug in her ear. Pulling kids out of class for 20 minutes then making them dress out and stand in front of her while she lectures them is not a Mrs. Coach Thorp thing, but if the Milford girls don’t start putting up more points Mimi may be forced to follow Gil’s lead and actually do a little coaching.

 

December 28, 2019

Schur Shot

Filed under: basketball, big arms, Gil Thorp, Pantheon of Hair — teenchy @ 3:49 pm

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That’s “Schur” as in “Schuring” not as in “Diane” (whose last name is spelled “Schuur” and whose vocals are orders of magnitude smoother than this action) and it’s Schuring who’s getting set up for the final shot.

Leonard “Don’t Call Me Vern” Fleming sends a pass past the Tigers’ man-bunned defender to Marcell Irby, who either magically changed jersey numbers from one panel to the next (he’s been #45 every time we’ve seen him this season to date) or was the recipient of a screen from the unnamed #40. Either way the outcome of the game will rest in Chris Schuring’s hands and we’ll hang on this cliff until Monday.

On the odd chance, faithful reader, that you’re not checking this post until the day after I posted it, I’ll leave you this musical tidbit to tie the room together.

 

December 21, 2019

Marjie Ducey, Muscle Queen

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It comes as no surprise to the TWIM faithful that today’s strip is a continuation of the famed Mudlark Roll Call, wherein Gil rattles off the roster to Marjie.  That no new names are introduced may come as a bit of a surprise.  Chris Schuring is, well, Chris Schuring, and we know Leonard Fleming better as a Mudlark defensive back and a member of Tiki Jansen’s host family.

It’s a little surprising that Marjie showed up in person to get the roll call instead of over the phone or via email.  After breaking the Chet Ballard/Chance Macy scandal, one might think that she’d be in greater demand. The Milford Star might have her working on even harder-hitting stories, like what really goes on in Those Dumpy Apartments on Poplar. She might even have designs on leaving the Star and the tank town of Milford, maybe for the bright lights of Central City or beyond. Maybe she’s there because she knows she really owes that lead to Gil – that he’s the one who helped her connect the dots to Chet – and so some ring kissing is in order.

Oh, who are we kidding? She’s there to check out the fresh meat. Marcell Irby’s lost an “l” in his name, but (oops! – t) put on some muscle. Not enough for Marjie’s taste, apparently.

September 26, 2019

“Did You See Him With Shades On And Carrying A Bottle Of Jack Out Of Milford Beverage Warehouse?” “I Did.”

Filed under: big arms, Coach Kaz, exposition comics, Gil Thorp, Milford Weirdos, song parody — tdrewhardin @ 1:11 pm

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Down in the dumpy, roach-infested digs

We’d roll and fall in green

You wore a beehive like this Spalding pigskin

Too much Sassoon, too pepper-gray

 

Why don’t you leave me

So I can possess the game

I hated you, I loved football too

 

Bad calls in the night

Coach told me I was going to lose the fight

Leave behind my

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse Heights

 

Coach Thorp, it’s me, I’m legal age

I’ve passed the physical, I’m still eligible

Let me in the game

 

Coach Thorp, it’s me, I’m etc., etc., etc.,

 

Gang, I apologize, I had this one wrapped up for Christmas but a personal matter turned up and like Grandma Macy, she was was hard to bounce out on the street so I had to find her bifocals which we FINALLY tracked down under the cushion of the couch along with the remote we’ve been searching for for several months. Thank God we weren’t trying to find her dentures. Under the seat slobbering on the channel function? Yuck.

Anyhoo, Today’s post includes a performer I have always admired. Her music is electric and scintillating and really gets in me. But I grew up on Alice Cooper, no problem. I grew up on Black Sabbath, in particular, Ozzy Osbourne, no problem. I lived to tell about it every time I played “Children of the Grave”, the lead-in “Embroyo”, if you want to get greedy, off of “Master of Reality”. I grew up on Frank Zappa and Captain Beefheart, no problem.

NONE of these performers have scared the shit out of me the way Kate Bush does. She has an eerie presence that works and adds the touch to her music that really sends me. One night at 2:00AM, I was reading an article on her that I had to put down, her photographs were THAT frightening. But that’s what also makes it appealing for me and will add, in my opinion, the punch to this plotline that is enigmatic and starting to limp after a strong start at the Milford Marathon. God, I hate to see what happens at Heartbreak Hill. Kate will be there to deliver the death blow, trust me.

 

At the 26 mile mark, situated at the beveled loading dock at Milford Foundry

“Gil, want some Gatorade? You look like you could use some.”

“Hell, no. I can suck it a few more yards. I’ll have my picture with my family proudly beside me.”

“That’s nice, but the photographer went home for the night.”

 

If ya gotta pass the ‘rithmatic Final by studyin’ the multi-plik-a-shun tables ’til the rooster crows early mornin’ so yuz can FINALLY pass 3rd grade and be eligible as a redshirt freshman for the junior varsity football team and ya FINALLY got 9 x 9 cuh-rehct by placin’ 9 monkey wrenches on the hood one way and 9 the other way, pointin’ towards the dice in the rear-view mirror, ya might be a redneck.

 

P1 is scary but if Thorpiverse thinks it’s going to get to Chance singing “The Red Shoes”, I think we better stick with Kate, thank you very much. We are led to believe that Chance is the second coming of Ted Bundy, about to chop up Grandma Macy with a Ginsu knife once he gets off the team bus, unbeknownst to the kids sitting behind him, talking about girls, football, what’s available online at The Bucket (“Let’s order that Bucket Tunaburger again. It’s got tuna wild-caught out of Mudlark Lake.” “HOLD ON. My phone ain’t working.”) .

And what sucks, We were getting used to Chet being an asshole and tolerating his inchoate methods for dealing with his stepson and his potential football talent or dealing with Coach Thorp and his coaching in absentia and still putting a product on the field. Aren’t you getting vertigo jumping from Stiff-Necked Lout to Norman Bates about to turn Grandma Bates into sawdust? Like Robert Frost, I prefer the Road Less Confusing. But I know a lot of you aren’t into “Fire and Ice”. Diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks.

STILL, once the only player who hasn’t been carded at Milford Lounge gets off the bus, I would like a little stability here. It’s time to get back to normalcy. So the League of Nations was a bad concept and now we’re going to have to endure every man for himself. But, Hell, we’ve had plenty of practice watching Chet at football games. Talk about grandstanding in the name of your own ego. His son better make the NFL and make this damn thing worth it, is all I can say.

 

Oooohhh, game gets close, it gets chippy

On the other side from you

I bitch a lot. I whine a lot

Wish I got ‘Dad’ from you

 

Don’t let Dreher back, Chuck

Cruel Macy, my one blot

My only other running back

 

Too long, Chance is in the play

Charlie’s coming in on second down, to put it right

He’s rolling right to

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse

Thorpiverse Heights

 

Charlie, it’s me, I’m obnoxious

I’ve read the pattern, I’m a pro at this

Let me call the plays

 

Charlie, it’s me, I’m etc., etc., etc.,

 

Well, did you think the lyric was going to be “I’m a Good Samaritan, I believe in sportsmanship, shake the hand of your opponent when you lose, Charlie”? Hell, we could end the football plot RIGHT NOW and take a sneak preview into basketball. But noooooooooo, Chet’s gotta be an asshole for about 2 more months before we schedule the Billy Graham Crusade at Milford Outdoor Amphitheater. Can’t have Chet answering the altar call before October. Ooops, I forgot, we still have Ted Bundy and his grandma. But you can only chop her up 31 ways if that plot lasts until Halloween. Better to drag this jalopy all the way to the finish line. Jughead Jones will be there at Heartbreak Hill with a Radio Flyer full of Bucket Burgers.

 

Oh, come on, coaches. In P2, we are subjected to a conversation a bit on the unrealistic side. I was only kidding about Chance being compared to Ted Bundy. They aren’t.

As long as we’re going to be ostentatious about weightlifting and hoist something your average senior citizen with his or her yearly pass at the Milford Athletic Club could jerk up and down without Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em head serving as a spotter, why don’t we at least get real. I have dealt with, either in Babe Ruth or at the private school I coached, SEVERAL players who were short on conversation. That didn’t make them Lizzie Borden. As long as they showed up ready to play and listen, giving me 110%, I really didn’t care if they weren’t much for words.

Now don’t get me wrong. I think it’s in every coach’s best interest to establish an excellent relationship or at least a workable rapport with your players as long as you’re in the same dugout or on the bench.  I can honestly say that I could get players to crash through a wall for me as long as I treated them with RESPECT (Notice big case letters) . The players were GREAT to me and they made me who I am. They took the wins, I took the losses.

But common sense rules the day. If Chance doesn’t have a meat cleaver in his locker, I think it’s safe to say that his grandma will sleep another night. 2541 will enter another halcyon period since it’s hard for me to imagine Silent Chance attacking his grandma with his Boy Scout knife out of his drawer.

Time to hit the sauna, Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Head.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Cleared On Rape Charges In Grandma Macy’s Living Unit!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Judge Ito knows me better than that. I wouldn’t touch her with gloves on or off.”

 

Then in P3, Coach Kaz is really sweating it out, either from bench-pressing the 25-pound weight (allowing for 5 pounds on the bar) or the agony of cerebralizing whether they’re harboring someone who’s old enough to file for Social Security benefits. Heavy-duty mental loads like this can be hell on the last rep, we know, Coach Kaz. Gil is there with a Handi-Wipe.

BTW, how do they know all this unless they were riding on the bus THEMSELVES? And, okay, if they didn’t ride in the Coach’s Limo (So THAT’S where Thorp keeps his golf clubs in the summer when he’s not not-coaching during the school year) , or in a separate bus which some schools do if the team is carrying a lot of players (i.e., Sophomore bus, Freshman bus, etc.) , and they indeed rode with Ted Bundy and his arguably subversive, slightly dangerous demeanor, what were they doing, observing the entire bus ride back to Milford? And not celebrating with the rest of the team? Concern is one thing. Stretching the storyline so it makes the half hour slot without having to fill in with another Toyota Corolla or Breeze Detergent commercial is another. The silver lining to the latter might be I’d get a towel out of the box when I’m dumping detergent in the washing machine with the “rinse” letters barely legible at the Milford Laundromat to wash my tube socks but that’s about it.

But us Thorpiverse veterans are used to Rubber-Band Man scenarios. Stretch away, Coaches.

 

“And that just about wraps up the Milford Marathon here at the finish line here by the Wacky Water Slide here at Mudlark Lake. Jerry Pulver Jr. wins the event in a record 2:27:16. Coach Thorp and Coach are yet to be accounted for. I understand they got lost by the drawbridge by The Bucket. They had to wait ’til the Milford & Oakwood frigate finally got its orders. That gives me an opportunity to take a station break. This ius Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG-Radio, a division of Learfield Sports.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Go away!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m training for the Milford Marathon!!!!!!!!!!”

“Honey, it’s 2:37 in the morning. And why are you training in the bathroom in the basement?”

“I gotta stay mentally strong. You can’t have any lapses in concentration when you’re chuggin’ for 26 miles.”

“Darling, I can give you that extra boost if you’ll give me a chance. Now come to bed with me.”

“Mrs. Shaw, you don’t understand. I have to be at my peak performance. That’s why I’m drinkin’ all these Nutrament Dutch Chocolate shakes. There’s plenty more behind the Pennzoil 10W-30 bottles here in the closet.”

“Aren’t there linens in there too? Where’d you put those?

“Blubba blubba, you’d be surprised how many Holiday Inn towels can cover a case full of Nutrament French Vanilla and Bar’s Leaks. Why it’s a match made in Heaven. And you can’t have any dissension when you’re at Heartbreak Hill. I’ll be sprintin’ like Jesse Owens if I got the Nutrament Black Cherry Special Blend wrapped up out of view.”

“And I don’t EVER remember your buying running shoes.”

“Ickity ackity oop, uh uh, I bought some cross trainers at a yard sale. Kid ran ’em in the Milford High School X-Country meets. Still got some high school invitationals left. I’ll be runnin’ like the wind at mile 15.”

“I just hope the crowd doesn’t notice the wimpy thing between your legs by then. Hard to hide that one with a Holiday Inn towel, My Love.”

 

“What could I say? She had me and she knew it and I knew it. It was time to take the towels back to Holiday Inn and pay the $7.00 Missing Merchandise Fee, then head down to Milford Men’s Clinic to deal with MY OWN missing merchandise. With treatment programs that work, my significant other came out of hiding and none too soon. I won my age division at the Milford Marathon thanks to the sprints I won in bed. Boy, it’s nice when you can pump your arms and your significant other simultaneously. My wife sure as hell agreed. But don’t take my word for it. Run on down to Milford Men’s Clinic and win your own age bracket. There’s plenty of ribbons to be won there. Come and claim your own Blue Ribbon. You’ll be glad you did.

 

Gang, thanks for your patience. I can only pass it along BUT I WILL. Y’all mean the world to me.

 

Ooohhhh, let him have it

Let Charlie take the game away

Oooohhhh, let him have it

Let Chance slice Granny away

You know it’s Gil, Cathy

 

Chet, it’s me, I’m concerned

I’ve come home, you’re so frazzled

Let Charlie, though fumbling, through the window

 

Chet, it’s me, I’m cornered

Etc., etc., etc.,

 

What are Gil and Kaz doing, pumping iron in Thorpiverse Heights? I hope they have plenty of Off!

Well done, Kate.

 

 

 

September 21, 2019

Talk to the Hands, Maybe

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Chance Macy: introvert, or just antisocial?

Bob “Kaz” Kazinski: actual coach, or Gil’s Boy Friday?

Gil “Gil” Thorp: protective of his players, or control freak media manipulator?

Hey, Rubin can write a cryptic strip, why can’t we post cryptic blog posts?

At least the Chief can indulge his hand fetish illustrating this little tête-à-tête. Either Gil has six fingers on his left hand or one of them’s his thumb peeking from between the others. Both Gil and Kaz look to have overdeveloped right hands, IYKWIMAITYD.

 

 

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.

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!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

 

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