This Week in Milford

September 4, 2019

So You’re Telling Me There’s a Chance

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How can the bonfire be annual if we haven’t seen it in four years? Oh yeah – the good ol’ tell, don’t show. Young Jerry Lewis seems unfazed as he flashes a jazz hand and prepares to follow the Flying Fickle Finger of Fate Flaming Fist of Fury to Oakwood.

Speaking of things that haven’t been seen in a while: when was the last time you saw a football player wearing long sleeves? Must be getting cold early in Oakwood. Chance Macy has “broken loose” but he’s surrounded by three Oaks Owls, one of whom is on an immediate collision course with him. Looks like those knees might get tangled up, leading to a call to Trainer Rick Scott and an opening for Charlie “Ruh” Roh to step up, make an impact, and help stepdad Chet Ballard forget his weak showing against Hadley V. Baxendale. Wait, Tiki Jansen’s still on the team? Forget that last bit, then.

September 3, 2019

For They March Out To Bastille Day-Oh, It’s A Milford Pep Rally. Never Mind.

Filed under: Bonfire!, Gil Thorp, Mimi Thorp, Oakwood — tdrewhardin @ 8:05 am

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Oh, brother. Gil, we know you’re trying to have Marjie’s back because she’s a Boswell for your perpetual youth movement that’s been interrupted occasionally by a few championship teams that actually had leaders who had actual addresses, but puh-lllleeassee, don’t confuse Marjie’s Milford Middle School 7th-grade journalism with Grantland Rice.

“Coach Thorp said it wasn’t polite to point. Coach Thorp said his football team will do good. Coach Thorp said he is proud of his team. He says they work hard. He says they eat lots of sandwiches. He says they are the sheet. He says they’ll win the confferance. He says he doesn’t know where Tiki lives at.”

…will do WELL, Kiddies. And you don’t end a sentence with a preposition.

Gil, the only time Marjie showed up was when she asked about your practice habits and you practically shut her up with a sloppy joe. You had her singing “Oh, I wish I were an Oscar Mayer Wiener” by the time the ambulance hauled Sam Finn off to the Milford Minor Emergency Clinic. Yeah, Gil, you got a lot done that day. Finn was laying on one of those flatboards with a fan blowing on him in one of the 1,548, 396 rooms a minor emergency clinic has at its disposal and you fattened the sacrificial cow with Manwiches. Another day at the office.

Oh, I forgot, she came to your office because she was concerned about the LEFT SIDE of your office. Everything on your right side was fine, championship memorabilia at its finest, e.g., Gil posing with Jerry Pulver for the State Championship, Gil sitting next to Whitey Herzog at the counter in a St. Louis bar, one of those with the Budweiser sign shining brightly, Arkansas being able to locate it, etc.

But the left side is a disaster. You posing with Jamie and Keri after they won the Pre-K Division at Milford Mini-Links? Your bowling trophy you won at the Milford Lanes raffle? The Speaker of the Year plaque garnered at the Milford Lion’s Club Luncheon? Rubik’s cube from the Milford Athletic Club Silent Auction?

Hard-hitting journalism at its finest. Marjie, if Tiki and his roommate Fleming don’t win an ESPY, it’s a crime.

 

Milford students at the fire

Catering is at the hire

Burn the deadwood into ash

Yell that Oakwood’s just a buncha trash

 

For they march out to the Rally Day

Homework left in their locker for a spell

They just shout out all the expletives

This rally’s short a second coming of Hell

 

After attending my local university’s men’s soccer match the other day and walking by the Port-o-Lets in the university’s football stadium’s parking lot where I parked my vehicle

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“EPA Shuts Down Portable Toilets At Milford Football Stadium After Neighborhood Associations Complain Of Stench Pervading The Streets!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Milford Floral cited roses with stunted growth and azalea bushes budding well into June; ‘No more jalapeno peppers on Ducey’s sloppy joes PLEASE. The rhododendrons are dying’.”

 

PRE-SEASON PREVIEW? Mimi, since WHEN has Marjie Ducey worked for Street & Smith? Yeah, their Valley Conference Football Roundup Edition. I’d LOVE to see the Predicted Order of Finish. I’ve been losing sleep over where New Thayer is going to wind up in the standings. We know Oakwood is going to get burned at the stake so you can save your Manwich-stained pen on that one. Again, she has come in and asked only about 2 questions that have amounted to anything and that ain’t saying much. They were of the “Bigger than a bread basket” variety. All she was doing was rubber-stamping Gil’s pomposity when she wasn’t feeding from Gil’s trough. Chris Berman didn’t ask Joe Torre if the left side of Yankee Stadium was going to be a factor this year. Sure, Chris, after we gave Derek Jeter Blu-Blocker glasses, he found out that the right side of Yankee Stadium wasn’t Yellowstone. Tore the cover off the ball after that. Andy Pettite started throwing strikes after we moved the left side of Yankee Stadium out of the subway. Want another Happy Meal?

Then there’s The Boss (A moniker he hated, BTW, and still does) putting his arm around Mimi. Is Bruce still married? I can see the matchup

Tomorrow’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Rumors Intensifying Over Possible Love Tryst Between Mimi And Springsteen!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“All I said was ‘Darkness on the Edge of Town’ was lovely; all of a sudden we’re drinking out of the same Bucket Vanilla Shake, according to Marty.”

 

In Mimi’s room

We make love while Gil’s at practice

Roll in the sheets and play basketball

Lost at a game of H-O-R-S-E

 

She’s so fun

Better than the time with Dr. Pearl

Had to give her CPR

And lots of Mountain Dew to sit up

 

There’s a sadness

In her pretty face

A face without a team

From which no

Man

Can

Shoot

Free

Throws

True

WE KISS

And the blood rushes through my veins…

 

“Candy’s Room” is the name of the tune if you whippersnappers want to catch the rest of Bruce’s tune. I have some Gil-slaying still to do.

 

Gang, I’m going to give the benefit of the doubt and say that in P1, Gil did NOT leave his washing machine in the middle of the road, let alone park it perpendicular to the street. I will stick my neck out and say that the line is an elongated parking lane produced by a Milford Traffic Department employee who went a little overboard with the Pittsburgh Paint Off White and that washing machines have no tail lights. But only this one time.

 

Okay, you whippersnappers, here we go again with another dose of Rush

 

Ooooohh, there’s no bread, let them eat cake

There’s no end to what players partake

Sloppy joes and bar-b-q ribs

Load your plate from the corn cob cribs

 

For they march out to the Rally Day

Concession stand is shut down for the night

All the anger spewed from players and fans

Marjie taking notes after one more bite

 

Then there’s P2. How many times do I gotta tell The Omega Man that these nocturnal albino creatures are just going to start some shit at these pep rallies? We have enough on our plate without worrying about someone who really needs to be in a zombie movie when he’s not harassing Charlton Heston who’s only trying to finish his Bucket o’ Pasta and Frankfurters at the deserted Bucket (hey, it’s sci-fi, work with me) . Can’t our nocturnal nemesis please transfer to The Shining? Oh, wait a minute, it’s just Gil who had his eyes taken out by some voodoo witch when Gil cut his son from the freshman team. Thank God Mimi is there to be a seeing-eye dog. And I think if you extend the right hand of fellowship and give these nocturnal creatures a plate of corn dogs, they should settle down. Milford City Police won’t have to utilize their riot gear that way. A win-win situation.

 

Mimi, don’t you play with the students or your playing with fire.

So the students own some land down on Mudlark Lake, next to St. John Wood.

 

Sorry, Mimi, I tried to fit a Thorpiverse square peg into a Rolling Stones round hole. I honestly tried.

 

One more time, Gil and Mimi, MARJIE SUCKS.

Can you not get the hint? Marjie’s journalism belongs in the Thrifty Nickel or in one of those handouts on Winnebagos you see at the Milford Truck Stop. She stops in for a cup of coffee and sloppy joes, writes about the camper with garage space and a wide-screen TV based upon what we’ve seen from her the last few days and you got the nerve to make it sound like she travels with the team. Gil, she occupies the lower level that Bugs Bunny resides in year-round, then when she sees her shadow, she gets her pad and Paper-mate, writes a ballad about team-depending-on-season, then goes back home to hibernate until the winter season. Even the blob in the background will attest to that. Sheesh, it looks like it’s already DEVOURED Oakwood.

 

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Files EPA-Approved Restrictive Usage Order Through Cochran For Bonfire Rally!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Whheewwwieee, man, you oughta smell the linen closet in my condo after they burn them wieners when the Port-a-Potties are nearby; one night I had to go to Milford 7-11 to get a case of Glade after the Tilden Rally.”

 

Gang, the signs haven’t changed in 60 years and they are about as original as something a Romper Room graduate would paint on their placards. “Fire it up”???????? “Toast Oakwood”???????? C’mon, this isn’t school spirit, not with lukewarm cliches that some struggling comedian was using in “Punchline.”

“Stick those marshmallows on a stick and burn their asses!!!!!!!!!!”

“Coach Andrews uses Marjie’s steno notes for toilet paper!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Roast Oakwood next to the dead pig, there’s room!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oakwood stinks like this Port-a-Pot I’m sittin’ in!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Eat my shorts and jump on a pile of cow manure when the moon is full and the Labor Day Telethon brings out the 1,000,000th kid, probably the son of Oakwood parents, to get on his hands and knees for one more donation…”

Okay, someone ran wild with the last one. I can’t control the fanatics, sorry.

But THOSE are signs sure to intimidate!!!!!!!!!! School spirit will be at fever pitch and the Mudlarks are sure to coast to victory over Oakwood, even with Gil’s inept coaching. in the bag, folks.

 

Lessons taught, but never learned

Effigies of Tod Andrews burned

Guide the Mudlarks by the past

At the 3rd quarter, the mould was cast

 

For they march out to the Rally Day

La Guillotine claimed Gil’s bloody hair

Hear the students cry “ol’ Oakwood stinks!!!!”

Riots in Milford’s streets, the ‘Larks’ bill of fare

 

If ya lit one too many matches and the the fire starts ragin’ outta control and it sets the Port-a-Potties a-blazin’, causin’ the EPA to shut down the event because the agency notates that it smells too much like yore bloodhound’s dog house after you notated on a signboard “Oakwood eats squirrel meat for breakfast!!!!!!!!”, ya might be a redneck.

 

 

Ooooooookkkkkk, here’s a recipe sure to please at your next bonfire and/or football pre-season picnic

Turkey Cordon Bleu Casserole

Prep time, 20 minutes, give or take 8 minutes, depending on how long it takes Coach Shaw to shoot the turkey in some woods on Mr. Green Jeans’ property

2 cups uncooked Milford IGA Elbow Macaroni (or Kraft for those of you who can afford Hadley Venom as a lawyer)

2 cans (10.75 ounces apiece) Milford IGA Condensed Cream of Chicken Soup, undiluted, straight from Gil’s distillery he hides from the police behind Tiki’s cave

3/4 cup 2% milk

1/4 cup Bucket Parmesan Cheese, freshly ground after the Italian sausage got washed off the grater

1 teaspoon French’s Mustard

1 teaspoon paprika

1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary, crushed after the cat and Gil’s kids walked on the dead bush

1/4 cup garlic powder

1/8 teaspoon rubbed sage, better when it’s the freshest rubbed, as from Marty’s goatee, especially when he’s at the mike railing at Gil

2 cups cubed cooked turkey

2 cups cubed fully cooked ham, freshly shot from Gil at a slaughterhouse because he’s too lazy to hunt in the woods with Coach Shaw

2 cups shredded Bucket Part-Skim Part-Spiked Mozzarella Cheese

1/4 cup crushed Ritz Crackers (depending on number in line at picnic)

 

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cook macaroni as per Bucket signage by the freezer door.

Meanwhile, whisk together soup, milk, Parmesan cheese, mustard, and seasonings, careful not to let Marty’s goatee hairs slip into concoction.

Drain macaroni in the sewer extension located in the back parking lot of The Bucket; add macaroni to the soup goulash and toss to combine. Mimi’s Hamilton Beach Smoothie Blender would be divine but use your better judgment. Transfer to a greased 13 x 9-inch baking dish or 8 greased 8-ounce ramekins. Do not use Gil’s surf board, even if it’s been greased. Said cooking ware will not fit in oven and has been farted upon one too many times and would ruin the flavor of the dish. Sprinkle with crackers

Bake for 25-30 minutes, until bubbly or Bucket label from cheese disappears. Serves a football team of 120, give or take Marjie Ducey. Tell Marjie that while she’s sitting on her derriere eating the equivalent of the football team’s appetite to look up the word “ramekin”.

 

Gang, It’s all yours. I love pep rallies, having been a high school booster for ages but I’m stayin’ away from Gil. That look in his eye, I dunno…

 

HEEEEEEERTRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEE’SSSSSSSSSSSS JOHNNY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Gil, shut the door. Stop worrying, I’m heading down the hallway to the studio now. I promise nothing but positive things about the team. Nothing about your hair or eyes.”

 

February 2, 2019

When Your Loophole Becomes a Noose

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Remember bonfires? Pepperidge Farm remembers. Pepperidge Farm also remembers growing up in the country and going to high school in a one-traffic light town where everything you did went down on your permanent record in the court of public opinion, even in the days before the internet.

Without any exposition, we don’t know whether The Gang That Couldn’t Shoot Paint were charged with anything or got off with a warning (maybe ’cause Deputy Dawg went back to huff the spray paint he made the kids leave on the ground). We do know that the blue mafia played telephone with Gil, who’s now fixin’ to make his already bad team even worse.

Again, without any additional exposition we have no evidence that a crime has been committed. Will Gil’s punishment fit the crime? Death Valleys until they puke? Benched for a quarter, or a half, or a game? Do they get kicked off the team just like B/Robby? Really, what’s Gil’s long game here? Kick enough kids off the team to forfeit the rest of the season?

The only bonfire we’ll be seeing hearing is the one the Marty n’ B/Robby Show will be firing up to burn Gil in effigy.

September 22, 2018

Don’t Look So Excited, Jason

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Jason looks as though he’d rather be keeping wicket for the Croydon Gentlemen as Kaz readies him to go over the top, then under the bus.  If this is the same Jason (Weibe) who just scored a touchdown on the last drive, why put one of your offensive weapons at risk like that?  I get that he’s a tight end and, unlike Heather Burns, probably has enough size to hold his own on the line, but still: we’ve seen no exposition that he’s practiced at the position.  How many elbows does Kaz have to get his arm around Jason’s shoulder like that?

Speaking of the anatomically implausible, is Sam Finn rolling on his own ankle as he reaches for the felt electric football?   That’ll set up a Weibe-to-Malouf punting combo even more disastrous than the last two.  There are obvious answers here, first being have the Mudlarks’ regular center snap the ball directly to Sam, who can take a two-step drop and and quick-kick.  If Milford operates out of the shotgun from time to time, the center should be used to snapping the ball a greater distance than a conventional snap, which would give Sam even more room for a quick-kick.

This will give Marty, now sporting cupcake liners in his headset, prime fodder for his postgame show.  How could Gil, Kaz, Steve & co. put such an ill-prepared special teams unit on the field?  Did they spend too much time on baseball?

metapost: The slow-motion disaster post-Hurricane Florence continues to unfold in Bakst country.  We no longer get a bonfire in Milford, but down there is a bonfire that’s having its own share of troubles.  Again, if any of you TWIMers were in the path of Florence and are dealing with the aftermath, holler at us and let us know you’re alright.

September 29, 2015

Adventures In Correlation Versus Causation

Filed under: Bonfire!, freak hands, Holly Dobbs, Prairie Style Windows — timbuys @ 12:34 am

September 29, 2015

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So, some not particularly inspiring rhetoric from ‘this Darwin kid’ in panel one nevertheless allows him to stumble into the correct conclusion in panel two.

Bonus Points:

Tricky Dick Travolta, you will always make me smile.

My favorite windows make a subtle return.

I defy anyone to explain the meaning of ‘GO JDLAY’S’

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