“In Other Words, If You Want To Make Honor Roll This Semester, You Have To Reach Double Bonus.”

This is the city. Milford USA. It’s a city like any other city, it has its parks, residential areas, factories, shopping centers, and schools. But unlike other cities, this city contains a high school with a gentleman who coaches multiple sports and sports multiple absences. When he does appear on the scene, sometimes questionable activities appears in his rearview mirror. The fans have long since tolerated his inept attempts to lead the kids to victory. I’ll smoke my Camels in the Milford Police Department break room and read the racing forms and bet on the winning horse at Milford Downs.

But when he oversteps the line and ethics and the law are in double overtime, that’s when I go to work. My name’s Friday. I carry a badge.

 

It was a typical winter day in Milford. Lots of sunshine but a hint of a blizzard was in the forecast later this evening. There were a lot of frisbee golfers out at Milford Frisbee Range taking advantage of the balmy conditions.

My partner, Bill Gannon, and I were assigned to the Academic and Sports Fraudulent Operations & Enterprises Division of the Milford Police Department. The boss is Captain DeMarco.

We had been informed to be on the lookout for dubious operatives pertaining to a certain student. Her name was reported to be Alexa Watson. She went by the nickname “Grade Shark”. She had a reputation for dumping anyone in the river who aced her on the Trig Final. We had encounrered a couple of bloated bodies but the only thing we observed when she opened the trunk were the groceries. This investigation was going to take time. Lots of time.

“Joe, just talked to HQ on the talkie. Found another one in the creek. His slide rule had leeches all over it.”

“Not surprised. If you want to go to Harvard, you better cover it up. And fast.”

“How does she do it? Right now her record is clean while the student body is declining.”

“Beats me.”

“I guess if you want to go to Yale, you simply say ‘Boola, Boola’ when you’re smoking in the bathroom.”

“Some kids know how to break the rules and get an ‘A’ on the term paper, I guess.”

“Kids these days. Commit armed robbery at Milford Federal and graduate Summa Cum Laude. I don’t get it.”

“Me neither.”

“Joe, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Time to go to work. Let’s go.”

Watson was seen carrying a basketball into the Milford gym. She committed the same fatal flaw every criminal makes, performing something out of character with the script. When you stood out like the burnt pickle on a Bucket Burger, you were a sitting duck for the law. Watson would be quacking a long time on this one.

 

If ya get caught in the file cabinet cuz ya wanted ta change the grade illegally on yore woodworking project in Introductory Woods class cuz ya found some treated wood that’d hold up better on yore outhouse that ya built, ya might be a redneck.

 

Gang, if there’s 3 inevitable items on the table us Thorpiverse veterans are inured to, it’d be death, taxes, and the revolving door and I don’t mean leading into Gil’s office. Thorpiverse always keeps us well-stocked with anonymous characters who step out of the sewer line of some random street in Milford and apprise Gil of a situation like the one we have on our plate today. We have no clue what function Mrs. Jane Doe is serving at this juncture nor her job title. Is she a teacher? Counselor? Department Head of Industrial Arts? Whatever her role, she is one of a million people who remain incognito while serving as a bridge to the plot-for-a-day scenario, a tactic well-used by Thorpiverse since its inception.

“Dr. Pearl, we need more buffer pads for the machine. And we need 3 more orders of toilet paper after Gil used a whole roll from that Faculty Enchilada Brunch this afternoon.”

“Certainly. BTW, did you get that PSAT score report audit on the sophomore class? The State called about it again about 15 minutes ago.”

 

Then there’s academics practically being called a contact sport. This is another flailing attempt for Thorpiverse to use a literary device, in this case a metaphor, to inflate the plot when in reality it needs to hit the Milford Men’s Clinic sooner than Coach Shaw and that’s pretty puffy, if you ask me.

Yeah, yeah, Alexa shouldn’t have her hand on the player’s fanny when the latter is working on the cosine wave (“Let me see, cos 60 degrees equals 1/2-HEY, will you quit pulling down my shorts?”) . Don’t want to let the game get out of control. Call it tight now. If it’s a foul, call it, if the player takes 5 steps with the graphing calculator, call traveling, if the player is in the arctan area for 10 seconds, call 3 seconds. We don’t the game to get out of hand. We completely understand, Thorpiverse.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Ejected After Flagrant Foul In Milford Parks & Recreation 6 Feet And Under League Basketball Game!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Witnesses confirm he kicked Spud Webb in the groin while Webb was contesting a breakaway dunk.”

 

2:27PM. Bill and I went to talk with Mrs. Doe about the reports she attempted to turn in to the State Superintendent of Public Instruction. We managed to flag her down just as she was about to give them to the mailman before he took off in his LLV on his mounted route. We had hope this would help in eventually cracking the case

“Look, Gil forgot to put a stamp on it. That’s why it couldn’t be mailed.”

“Sir, we’re asking Mrs. Doe that question.”

“Oops. Sorry, Gentlemen.”

“Quite all right”

LLV drives away out of the Milford High School parking lot

“Alexa begged us not to mail it. I gave in because I have a soft heart for kids plus Chris blew the game. I couldn’t reward people who choke in the clutch.”

“So what did you do next?”

“I gave them to Dr. Pearl. She said she would throw them away as they were supernumerary reports and did not affect the Bell Curve. Alexa still had a chance to catch Chris with these reports in the garbage can.”

“Ma’am, you can’t throw away confidential information just on the whim of your bleeding heart. You could wind up in the hoosegow.”

Gannon had a point. Flirting with somebody’s academic future was analogous with Mimi’s analogies. Both were dangerous and inexplicable.

“Is there anything else?”

“No, ma’am, just sit tight until we complete the investigation.”

“Will I go to jail?”

“Not sure. That’ll be up to the Director of Academic Fraud Bunco Division.”

“Alexa’s a nice kid. She deserves only the best. She really respects Mimi Thorp. And Gil also.”

“But so does Chris.”

Somber music sets in

 

Oh Brother. These so-called Teachable Moments like we’re supposedly experiencing in P2 is about as laughable as all get out.

Like, what is your point, Mimi? If Wilt scored 100 on that fateful night in ’62 at the Hershey, Pennsylvania gym, he’d have his Honorary Diploma from Milford High School? I can understand trying to motivate to score more but just about a week ago you were in your office beating your brains out, loosely speaking, attempting to improve your team. It’s bad enough that that went nowhere and in time it’ll more than likely STILL GO NOWHERE but do you have to run up the score with SAT analogies?

Let me see if I’m understanding you correctly

POINTS::GRADES—–GIL’S HAIR::VIDAL SASSOON RECYCLABLE SPRAY BOTTLES

That might work but points can be differentiated but Gil’s hair could arguably be compared to The Blob movie in the ’50’s. Let’s try again

POINTS::GRADES—–NUMBER OF YEARS DR. PEARL HAS ROAMED THE EARTH::DENTURES SHE HAS POSSESSED IN HER BUREAU DURING THAT TIME

The analogy is an obvious dead-ringer but too verbose for an SAT test. The writers of Cliff Notes Guide to SAT Preparation would have a fit trying to cram that in their latest edition. Nope, better look elsewhere

POINTS::GRADES—–MUDLARKS::LOSERS

Now THAT’S an analogy. Both can distributed singularly like points and grades, and the more you have of one, the more you have of the other. Mimi’s Direct Proportion passes with flying colors on this one.

 

WHO SHOT COACH SHAW::MYSTERY—–CURRENT PLOT:ENIGMA

It works, Gang. I wouldn’t be surprised that we get to the bottom of either one.

 

And THE DAGWOOD BUMSTEAD BACKGROUND CHARACTERS ARE BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You old-timers know what I’m talking about. Dagwood is ringing out Blondie because she is spending way too much at some department store and the nameless blob of people are looking on in curiosity, bewilderment, consternation, interest, etc. But before the punchline delivers its punch, The Blob (not the same as Gil’s hair, The People Blob, mind you) is seen doing different things, making purchases, checking sizes of shirts and pants, hunching in some corner (“Dagwood, what is Mr. Dithers doing over by the drinking fountain?” “I Dunno, Blondie.”) , laughing and yukking it up with a fellow shopper, that sort of thing.

Congratulations, Phoebe and your cohort in P2, you are now part of Dagwood’s crowd. Yup, you are filling in space during Mimi’s Lifetime Lesson, sure to trickle down to your ears even as Mimi is lecturing. You might want to put down the beach ball and take some notes.

And this is my point. Usually, if a coach is in a one-on-one session with a player to emphasize a point, the OTHER players are involved in a shootaround or practicing free throws or doing a light jog before practice. Not too many high school practices include players with thumbs up their asses and Dagwooding it while the coach is exhorting another player to improve his or her game. It’s great you have your uniforms on but this is not a modeling show. The baskets are around somewhere in the gym. You’ll just have to look for them. I think I saw one by the Ski machine. They’ve been known to hide.

 

4:18PM. Bill Gannon and I stopped in to talk with Dr. Pearl. Safe to say the conversation was not going to be about her New Wave Granny hairdo. We wanted answers and we wanted them fast.

“We run an honest business around here. We would never stoop so low as to change a student’s transcript so that another student can get that student’s scholarship to MIT.”

“Look, Ma’am, we weren’t born yesterday. When a kid like Chris flunks Home Ec because he left Shake ‘n’ Bake in the oven too long, we get suspicious. He could have easily done a make-up assignment and cooked a batch of Zatarain’s Rice Pilaf.”

“The Home Ec teacher called in and could not shop at Milford 7-11 for emergency supplies.”

“That’s not our problem. I could nail you on Section 19, Article 57 ‘Engineering to Perpetrate Academic Alteration with Intent to Perform Bodily Harm’, but you have tenure and your wall is impregnable for the moment. But watch your back side, Dr. Pearl.”

“Let me assure you, academic integrity is our utmost concern at Milford High School.”

“Look, Dr. Pearl, Friday has a point. We’re not asking you to bare your soul for Mr. Schuring, so keep your gingham dress on. We just want things to be on the up-and-up so both Miss Watson and Mr. Schuring can stand on the podium and shake your hand when you confer their diplomas. Don’t send Mr. Schuring out to lunch for Bucket Crawdads while Miss Watson is graduating With Honors.”

“Chris will get the same treatment as Alexa, I’m committed to that concept.”

“And we’re committed to your keeping that commitment, Bucket Crawdads or no Bucket Crawdads.”

Somber music once again after Joe’s last zinger

 

P3-“Did you know your fly is open?”

Could also easily fit into Mimi’s balloon if that were left blank.

 

“We’ll return to the conclusion of Dragnet after these important messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV.”

 

“With January upon us, a lot of us got our wallets cleaned out from all that Christmas shopping. And if you live in the Skid Row subdivision behind the Milford High School Athletic Annex, buying The Good Life, when you can’t even afford foodstuffs, can be a hassle.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp speaking for Milford Beverage Warehouse. The good people at The Warehouse don’t want you to do without so they have started an exciting new program, the Name Your Price policy when buying liquor. It’s an innovative way of reaching out to the customer who cannot afford a 30-Pack of Drewry’s Dark because he has to pay off 2 court-ordered alimony payments. A man who couldn’t stay under the bed with another woman without a rolling pin bonking his head shouldn’t have to do without a cold one.

And check this out. You lucky dogs who sleep on the picnic tables at night at Milford State Park with nothing but an old Superman kiddie blanket are in for a treat. If you can pay $2.99 for Jim Beam Bourbon, The Warehouse will be more than happy to pour it an Erlenmeyer flask, duct-tape it, and send you out the door a free man.

And some of you lost your shirt at Milford Steamboat Casino and have to stay within a budget. No problemo. If you have $5.00, The Warehouse is only too glad to store Ecco Domani Pinot Grigio, the Wine of Champions, into large Styrofoam Dixie Cups. Shoot, they’ll even throw in a straw.

And did you get sued out the wazoo because your semi plowed into a station wagon and now you’re on a waiting list at Milford Shelter House? If you have $3.99, The Warehouse will supply you with your demand for Michelob Ultra, both cans with the extra-safe tab so kid can drink it and steal your joy. And if you have a coupon, you’ll get an extra can at no charge. Sounds like sensible Free Market Economics to me.

So come on, all you freeloaders out there. Don’t be afraid to go through the double doors and dictate your policy. You can go through the same line as guy with the Visa Gold and the 24-Pack of Natural Light and not be ashamed. You can even sign up for the Mystery Pack. For $10.00, you can get a whole bag of goodies to take back to your cot. I’m not allowed to say what’s in the bag this month but last month’s grab bag had some Oreos, 12-Pack Corona Extra, Mott’s Apple Juice, Tylenol in Liquid Tablets, Knob Creek Whiskey, 750 Milliliters, Brawny Quilted Bathroom Tissue, and some Roscato Wine. Boy, I’d like to be able to wipe my butt, then sip on a pint in the evening on my verandah when the sun goes down.

Get your butt on down here and do your own wiping and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.

 

It’s all yours, Gang. Time to down a Bud and sit on the bleachers and listen to Mimi’s words of wisdom. Life is good.

 

 

POINTS::GRADES—–MARTY MOON::SNAILS

“Chris, dammit!!!!!!!!!! Look at your own answer sheet!!!!!!!!!!!! And I ain’t loanin’ pu another #2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Mimi the Proctor looks up from her “How to Win Friends and Influence Players” by Dale Carnegie III

“Do I have to separate you two?”

 

On January 14th, 2020, Jane Doe was found guilty in the Milford Superior Court of violation of State Law 102, Section 9, Article 15 “Wrongful Forgery of Academic Documentation and Illegal Pedagogical Enterprises in the Line of Educational Duty” whichbis punishable by a fine of not more than $60,000 and imprisonment for a minimum of 60 years but not exceeding 89 years.”

Jane Doe standing with blank background behind her, the graphics in front of her on the TV screen

Mrs. Doe is currently serving 71 years in the Milford Maximum Security Plot Prison.

 

Do They Know It’s Thorpmas?

When I last posted on Christmas Day, I was hanging on a piazza in Charleston with Mr. Bakst.  No such luck today; I’m in a colder place, albeit one that’s not as cold as it used to be this time of year.  I’m also not fresh out of a hospital bed like I was in 2015, and for that I’m grateful.  I’m also grateful that I got to see firsthand something very few people still living got to see previously – a major league baseball team based in Washington win a pennant – and, a few days later, win a World Series, something even fewer still living got to see previously.

My snark isn’t as sharp as it used to be.  In my last two posts I thought I caught a typo where there wasn’t one, and I identified Teddy DeMarco’s knock-kneed stooge as Teddy himself.  I’ve still got some haiku game but I’ve lost a few mph off my song parodies (how many times can I go back to Janet’s Diner?).  Heck, I’m having a hard time finding snark for today’s strip.  The Thorp kids have been so thoroughly retconned out it hardly bears mention.  Maybe Kaz’s scarf?  Looks like one of Mary Worth’s cowlnecks.  What about that gazebo?  Since when did Milford get one of those?  Is that where Mimi entertains the pool boy when Gil’s off at Milford CC every summer?  We don’t even get “Merry Christmas” set off in a fancy font like we usually do.

Anyhoo, to all you TWIMers out there who celebrate Christmas, a merry Christmas to you.  To those of you who don’t, enjoy the day all the same.  Thanks for putting up with me and for the encouragement when I’ve felt like hanging up the keyboard.

 

Watson, Come Here Into The Gym, We Need You To Play Basketball

A few years ago, Lester Holt was interviewing a lawyer involved in a controversial case somewhere in rural North Carolina. I can’t remember the exact details but if you’ll allow me to improvise, it was concerning some business or radio station that was defending its Constitutional rights when comments laced with profanity was published or said on the air.

When Holt asked the lawyer about the crux of the case, the lawyer proceeded to quote what he and his plaintiffs were complaining about, bearing in mind this was NOT the defendant’s lawyer

“…and we are objecting to ‘Up shit creek’ or ‘I want to fuck you blind’ or ‘Gil couldn’t coach out of a douchebag’…”

And FINALLY Holt mercifully interrupted the lawyer, since this was on an NBC News Magazine and therefore national news, by saying

ALL RIGHT WE GET THE POINT WE DON’T NEED THIS BARRAGE OF PROFANITY ON NATIONAL TV THERE ARE KIDS WATCHING THIS SHOW

Holt afterwards apologized profusely for what arguably wasn’t necessary to quote on TV, especially because again this was the same lawyer fighting AGAINST what he himself was guilty of and was fighting, i.e., the usage of inappropriate language to drive home the issue.

And Thorpiverse

WE GET THE JOKE. IT MIGHT HAVE TAKEN ANOTHER 3-PANEL SET TO CATCH IT BUT WE HAVE A FIRM GRASP ON THE HUMOR WE DON’T NEED TO SKIP OVER GIRLS BASKETBALL LIKE WE DID LAST YEAR AND PICK UP WHERE LEFT OFF AND TRY TO GET CREATIVE WITH WATSON COMEDY AT THE BUCKET

They don’t have homework? Richie and Ralph and Potsie and The Fonz sit around at Al’s and conjure up new ways to express themselves about Richie Cunningham’s dad?

The Foghorn Leghorn approach

“Oh, say, can you C, Mr. C.?”

“That’s a funny, Dad.”

 

 

“Oh, Howard, you spilled your fruit punch all over your pants. Let me get you a Bounty.”

“Marion, I’m fine. I’ll just throw them in the wash later…”

“Aaaaayyyyyyy, Mr. C., I wouldn’t let that Hi-C settle on you, Mr.C. You’ll have a sea full of Vitamin C Hi-C all over Mr.C., see?”

“Eat the rest of your peas, Arthur. Here, Howard, here’s a Kleenex.”

 

Gang, if we have to have several more panels of Hee Haw, we’re in trouble

“Man, Roy, I can’t find those county corn yield reports anywhere. Can you help me look?”

“They ain’t come out of Lulu the Supercomputer’s mouth yet, Buck.”

Archie Campebell steps in

“That’s all right. Heck, Lulu’s so fat, they have to perform a Lamaze procedure when she’s spitting printouts.”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

 

Alexa, is that you

I hope that football’s finally through

Basketball could be in view

I can pray

Hard to say

There’s only one thing that there’s left to play

Tip-off might be any day

 

We gotta get you a ballgame

It’s the only thing to show that this plot is alive

We gotta get you a ballgame

You better quit walkin’

They call that stuff Traveling

 

Because I’m amused because I saw a sign on a grocery store advising customers to

PLEASE DON’T PARK IN FRONT OF THE STORE

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Local Resident Fined Severely For Double-Parking At Milford IGA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Coach Shaw: ‘I was just getting eggs for my wife. And that Iams Beef a-Plenty 15-lb. bag for my huntin’ dog was hard on my back.'”

 

Let me get the obvious out of the way in P1. The girls are actually drawn pretty darn well and Phoebe is a cutie in that scene.

Then we get to her burger. Oh my.

Unless The Bucket is marketing Art Nouveau Leaning Towers of Pisa disguised as an overloaded Big Mac with one pickle and onion too many, I think I’ll order the Bucket Full o’ Pasta. C’mon, I’m still utilizing the Italian language.

I could go to a Milford Zoning Board meeting with that structure and make my case for a high-rise condo unit on a vacant lot in Downtown Milford. Drainage shouldn’t be a problem with that thing, just set that Tower of Babel at a perpendicular and the grease is as good as gone. I’ll get approved at next month’s meeting, unanimously.

Now I delve into the not-so-obvious. This one will have to be broken down if we’re to build the logic back up.

And what better way to dive into deductive reasoning than to transpose what’s being said in P1 to Pop’s Choklit Shoppe where Archie and Veronica are sitting in a booth.

“Oh, Archiekins, I am buying the Popsburger Combo with Extra Buffalo Fries and a side order of Onion Rings and Pop’s Veggie Lasagna because Daddy ran over Jughead in his Lamborghini.”

“Did they get Mr. Lodge for a DUI?”

“Now you know Daddy doesn’t drink and drive, Love.”

“That’s true. You still want to go to the drive-in movie. We can go right after Jughead’s funeral.”

“Oh, Archiekins, you say the sweetest things.”

 

If yore computer is nicknamed “Bubba” because it’s the only computer on the planet that gives ya printouts while its butt’s hangin’ out, sportin’ more pimples in its crack than a teenager, ya might be a redneck.

 

Talking ’bout Thorp, he’s so under the gun

This plot is stupid, not a lot of fun

Let’s hope that basketball won’t be shunned

And then we’ll take some time to get your stuff together

GET YOUR STUFF TOGETHER

Cuz, we gotta get you a ballgame…

 

But enjoy the generic School Cafeteria Burger, Alexa. All students get a free one everytime someone calls him or her HAL.

“Would you mind passing the mustard, Dave?”

 

 

“Will Archie Andrews and Moose Mason use hedge clippers to pare the rest of Mr. T.’s grandson’s head? Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion here on WDIG-TV.”

 

Because I’m in eternal wonder over these ED ads advising a person to throw away his old dick pills

 

At Mudlark Lake Resort one Autumn afternoon

 

THESE GODDAM PILLS AREN’T GETTING ME ANY HARDER THAN MARTY’S HEAD!!!!!!!!!!! THIS NAXIUM IS WORTHLESS. THE PHARMACIST SAID IT WOULD TAKE CARE OF MY HEARTBURN AND MY ED PROBLEMS. I’M FLUSHIN’ THESE SUCKERS-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

YEAH?

“Daddy, I gotta go #2 bad. My Underoos are stinky already.”

“Hold on, Jaime. Daddy has to unload some garbage and this can’t wait THAT’S THE LAST TIME I LISTEN TO THOSE ASSHOLES AT MILFORD APOTHECARY. THEY SAID MY WIENER WOULD TURN TO STONE AFTER I USED MIRALAX. I CAN SHIT LIKE A RHINO BUT MY WIENIE’S STILL A WIENIE-

Mimi approaches

“Gil, you OK? They can hear you from the other side of the lake. I could hear you cuss at the boat ramp over the Evinrude motor and that thing was louder than a Who concert.”

“I’m sorry, Honey, but I got to flush my troubles down the drain. The Pharmacy Grad Student at Milford Community College said the Children’s Mucinex Nightshift Relief would cause my thingamabob to be stiff enough to hang a flag on. Snot’s runnin’ out of it more than blood’s flowin’ into it. I’m flushin’ this across the Charon.”

“Gil, you’re in an outhouse.”

“Mimi, I couldn’t care less if I’m in the penthouse. When I use my Mudlark Visa Gold to buy Milford Apothecary Ibuprofen, I expect to dominate my women like Thor shootin’ one out of the sky.”

“Gil, I have a better idea. Why don’t you try one of the EREC-STYLE 9800 that I stuffed in your stuffing and consider it a pre-Christmas gift? It works better than Coricidin or Vick’s VapoRub.”

“HEY THAT’S IT. LET ME RUB SOME ON MY OSCAR MEYER WIENER AND YOU WILL TRULY BE IN LOVE WITH ME!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Maybe so, but in the meantime, you’ll have to clean the poopie off the jungle gym. Jaime just had an accident.”

 

“Why go through all that frustration when I could have used EREC-STYLE 9800, sold exclusively at Milford Men’s Clinic. No more throwing Aleve or Bayer in the dumpster for Milford Sanitary Solutions to pick up. I am not only having the time of my life, but the bathroom is free for my kids when they’ve eaten one chimichanga too many at Milford Taco Bell. Come get your fun at the Clinic and leave Garbage Day for your canteloupe rinds. You’ll be glad you did.”

 

Thanks to Cooper Stewart of Louisville, Kentucky for help with the above idea. Cooper works hard and his raw sense of humor keeps me going and gives me GREAT ideas. Cooper represents America with his dedication to his job and just by being himself. Don’t ever change, My Man. America needs you.

 

Go at it, Gang. I’m going to court to testify for Mr. Lodge. They say he was guilty of pulling a Gil with his car. I wonder how you get busted just by owning an idle car that plops its butt on the practice field but we do have Due Process, Thank God.

 

And when we’re done with youuuuu

We’ll do it with baseball, too.

 

Thanks for putting up with my love for Todd Rundgren. You’re #1 in my book, Gang.

You Can Call Me Al

Two girls walk in the cafeteria

One says “Why hasn’t basketball started yet,

Hasn’t gotten off its ass yet

The rest of the plot will probably be Uncle Ben’s Denture-Friendly Rice

We need another opportunity

A shot at Peppermint Patty

Don’t want to wind up in Wee Pals

In a Wee Pals graveyard”

Bonedigger, Bonedigger

Marmaduke in the moonlight

And plot far away in Rivets’ doghouse

Mr. Snoopy, Snoopy

Get these mutts away from me

You know, we dont find this entertaining anymore

 

 

If you’ll just speed up basketball

I can be your long lost pal

I can call you Phoebe, and Phoebe, when you call me, you can call me Al

 

After having lost a bundle because we got the Watson joke THE VERY NEXT DAY (Had to fork over my Gil Thorp Comic Strip scrapbooks, in installments) , I am still wondering if these girls are going to play basketball. Now if Alexa the Supercomputer (I rub it in well, don’t I?) is 6’1″, the implication couldn’t be leading towards wrestling. God bless the girls who have broken into the sport and SUCCEEDED many times but I don’t think Alexa will be one of the pioneers continuing to lead the way.

Coach Thorp passing by Alexa one day in the Mathematics wing of Milford High School

“God Almighty, you’re tall. Did you ever think about going out for the wrestling team? I’ll bet you could execute a 3/4 Nelson with the best of ’em.”

“I’ll think about it. Who do I talk to, Coach Shaw?”

“No, he’s in Tank McNamara for the time being. Won’t be back until the Football Wienie Roast Pep Rally. Let me speak with Coach Anderson.”

“BTW, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be back in gym?”

“I was going to strong-arm another trig teacher to clear one of my players to play. He just got sine and cosine, mixed up that’s all. Plus, I wasn’t doing anything anyway, like for the last 60 years.”

“I’ll work on Takedown Procedures tonight after I get done with my Biology Lab.”

“What I wanna hear.”

 

If yore Google computer in the den and yore bloodhound ya go huntin’ coons  with and yore cleanin’ lady with a tattoo the size of Delaware who comes in on Thursday to wipe off the pig slop in the living room and yore mechanic that fixes yore pickup and puts in points and plugs every bow season all go by the same name, Al, ya might be a redneck.

 

Interesting choice, the phrase “Day of Irritations”. Let’s see if we can make good use of combination of words.

 

On a 1944 headline of the Milford Enquirer

“MacArthur Fleet Bombs Honshu, Destroying 2 Nissan Plants, Including Line Of Sentras Being Shipped To Egypt!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Emperor Hirohito declared the attack a ‘Day of Irritations’.”

C’mon, it’s got possibilities.

Okay, you nitpickers out there, let’s go Room 222

“So what are you going to wear to the prom, Shelly?”

“I’m not going.”

“Why not?”

“The prom is on the same date as the Day of Irritations. I’m a Thorpist and Thorp simply operates through prayer and meditation and prohibits any kind of vigorous activity. I can’t even eat a Bucket Wienie.”

Later, in Mr. Dixon’s World Geography class

“…contrary to popular belief, the USSR never abutted upon the Cape of Good Hope. Africa was a target but Brezhnev was sick with flu in a Moscow hospital and could not commence Operation Africa in time…”

BRRRRRRRIIIIIINNNNNGGGGGGG

“That is all. Don’t forget your book report on Finland is due this Friday. Shelly, may I have a word with you?”

“Sure, Mr. Dixon, what’s up?”

“I heard rumors that you’re not going to the prom.”

“That’s right.”

Miss Johnson steps in

“Shelly, think of all the fun you’ll miss.”

“But Thorpism is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. I am going to sit butt naked in my bathtub and pray and fast on The Day of Irritations.”

Mr. Dixon has heard enough. Us TWIMers have SEEN enough

“Shelly, you can’t spend the rest of your life worshipping a man who never coaches, let alone worry about you.”

“And he tried to make a move on me and I said, your Ayers Rock hairline may be sexy to Mimi but you won’t even get Irish Spring soap from me and your hair is RAINING dandruff.”

“He tried to have his way with you, Miss Johnson?”

“That’s right. Threw the doggie shampoo bottle in his face.”

“Is it still too late to call Milford Formal?”

Mr. Dixon smiles when the 222 plot always has a happy ending

“No, a friend of mine works there and he can FedEx a gown by tomorrow. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Bobby Howry.”

 

Okay, Okay, so it had a rough edge but the 222 ending worked, didn’t it? Didn’t it?

 

“And on the Day of Irritations, Shechem, you shall lead my people towards the Land of Canaan where you shall enjoy a feast of milk and honey. I will rain Manna out of the sky until that Day…”

Hey, I know The Bible well. The Annotated Version ought to find that SOMEWHERE

 

Two girls walk into the basketball gym

One says “Why is this game so short of attention

4 quarters short of attention

And, whoa, Mimi rambles about setting picks

Where’s the referees and the scorekeeper

What if the timer dies on the half court line

Who’ll be the other team

Now that it didn’t show up like last year’s season

It ducked behind The Bucket

With some roly-poly little zit-filled carhop

All along, all along

There were flagrant fouls and technicals

There were slammed basketballs and Gil’s ejection

 

If you’ll be my point guard,

I can be your long lost pal

I’m the power forward, I will call for the ball

And you can call me Al

 

And in P2, Rod Serling at 17 flirts(?) with Al and Phoebe, we TWIMers unsure of motives but confident will find out in a well-developed soap opera, i.e., at the expense of basketball. Isn’t it just peachy that we are thrown 3 characters right off the bat and really not holding our breath that THAT will be the limit?

And why is Mr. Serling added AT ALL? Is he going to have a sex change and join the girl’s team? Boy, don’t go in Mimi’s office and dump her with THAT one.

In Gil’s office one day, right after he washed his hands and dried them with Bounty towels after The Deluge in his personal toilet

“Coach Thorp, I’m quitting the basketball team.”

“WHY????”

“I’m pursuing other interests after my surgery at Milford General.”

 

Whoa, Nelly

Ooooookkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is here to save the day!!!!!! Take ‘er away, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was soooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), she went through the cafeteria line with Al and Phoebe to buy plenty of __________________.”

 

And what is this in P3? Will this be a future installment on The Dating Game

“Bachelorette #3″, I understand you like basketball but you like archery, badminton, 5-stud billiards, dodgeball, indoor wiffleball, racquetball hockey, donkey nerf football, hallway X-country, heck, just about any sport in case Thorpiverse reneges on us and ditches basketball and there’s another sport Naismith hasn’t invented to entertain the masses in the wintertime.”

“What’s your point?”

“I was going to ask Thorpiverse the same thing.”

Funky music comes in for a landing, Marty Moon, the host steps in

“Well, that’ll wrap up this one. We’ll see which Bachelorette that Chris will pick in a moment, Phoebe, Ms. Rizk, or Al…”

 

 

“And that about wraps up this scrimmage here at the Milford High School Girls Gym. The Varsity beats the Reserves, 105-27, Al Watson leading the way with 45 points. I’ll have other stats in a moment, this is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

 

“Aren’t you fired up for basketball? With Al Watson and her Jordanesque moves, the 5-game season should be a snap. I know I won’t have to listen to Mimi complaining until 1:00AM about the referees not calling a violation when the opposing free throw shooter steps on the line. Fair play is important, bitching about while I’m trying to watch Letterman isn’t.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse. Y’know, I went into Milford Hobby Lobby the other day and I maxed out on my Visa Platinum trying to buy a wagon for my kids. And when I saw that I could buy other red wagons for lesser value, I asked the teenage sales clerk, what’s less money than a Radio Flyer? Do they sell Radio Flyers for the Taco Bell chihuahua?

But don’t sweat this one as Milford Beverage Warehouse has ya covered, as if you thought otherwise. They bought several truckloads of toys that were of lesser value that the kids could still enjoy while selling The Good Life to the rest of us. I guess if Otis the Drunk wants Tinker Toys to purchase with his 6-pack of Falls City, that’s his cross to bear but the rest of us just enjoy watching our kids play Monopoly while sippin’ on some Jack.

That’s why Early Times at $19.99 and Star Wars Action figures for just a few simoleons more is practically robbing the store. Don’t you want watch your young’uns pretend they’re Luke and Darth while trying to locate your chaser under the recliner? What a way to get into the Christmas spirit.

Or for you mellow people, you can watch the neighborhood kids cuss at each other at Stratego as you partake of Starborough Sauvignon Blanc, and those memories are only $12.99 and some loose change.

And wouldn’t it be nice if you were kickin’ back on Christmas Day while watching your kids play with a 1,435-track Lionel Train Set, something that got repossessed by some loser like Chet Ballard? And your 12-pack of Heineken well in hand? My goodness, $14.99 and your checkbook that couldn’t possibly bounce on this one is a small price to pay when you hear the engine chug-a-luggin’

But YOU need to get your own Barbie Dolls or the Toy Robot from Lost in Space to give to your offspring if you want to enjoy the Garden of Eden. Glenmore Gin or whatever suits your fancy is all right here at The Milford Beverage Warehouse. Come see how full your wallet will remain as you break the bank down here where it’s literally fun and games and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

All right, Gang, it’s your turn. And don’t forget, ya doesn’t have ta call me T. Drew. Ya can call me T. or you can call me Drew…

 

A man walks by Phoebe’s and Al’s table

A table with some strange brew

Maybe it’s a chili dog and hash browns

Maybe it’s Cream of Wheat on Rye

Doesn’t speak their language

He’s too late for football

Shouldn’t be dropping in for lunch at 12:40

He’s surrounded by Mudlarks, Mudlarks

Some in the journalism room

Inchoate plots and lack of action technicals

He looks around, around

He sees two girls, tip of the iceberg

Rambling in infinity

Tells Thorpiverse “Get to the point, Amen”

 

If you’ll apply some Right Guard

I can be your long lost pal

I can call you Chris

And when you call me for a date

You can call me Al

 

“Coach Thorp, I can’t play on that date. My family celebrates The Day of Irritations”

“We didn’t make the Playdowns, Joe.”

Alexa, It’s Pretty Sad When I’m Bored When The Story Is Only Six Panels Old.

I remember her well. She lived on an island off the coast of Mudlark Lake. Her name was Dorothy Pearl or Dr. Pearl for short. I never thought I’d be non-coaching for her several years later.

She said she was 1,187 years old. She held her age well. Hermie Shaw and Oscy Kaz used to make fun of me every time her name was brought up. A few examples:

“Geez, this Bucket Double Bacon Burger tastes like it’s been in the oven for days. Did Dr. Pearl light a camp fire there?”

“Damn, my book report’s due!!!!!!!!! If I wait until the Treaty of Westphalia, it’ll be late!!!”    “Isn’t that the year Dr. Pearl was born?”

“Why did Coach Thorp call a pass play on the 1-yard line? Is Dr. Pearl calling the plays from Versailles Palace?”

You get the idea.

 

“This Bucket Chili Dog has seen better days. I wouldn’t wrap a condom around this loser and have sex with-”

“SEE, HERMIE, I told you Gilby has a thing for Dr. Pearl!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A 15-year old virgin is going to have his way with an older woman!!!!!!!!!!! Tell me, Gilby, how was it when Dr. Pearl went in Napoleon’s tent? Did she like it?”

The story sucked

And football’s gone

I wretched all night

It went too long

Chance is cleared

He did no wrong

 

And when it was over

We never saw much to brag about

Against Valley Tech

Much less the season in toto

 

Chet’s in reform

His wife has warned

 

Gang, I’m sorry, P1 is starting this whole daggone story on the wrong foot ALREADY and I ain’t gonna do another Summer of ’42 rendition after basketball, assuming that’s the bill of fare, something that’s been the bill of fare the last 60 years and counting. It’s hard for me to imagine Alexa hittin’ the weights hard so she can be the Milford High School Girls’ Darts champion sponsored by Milford Lounge.

 

She throws her darts

With deft aplomb

She nearly missed

Moon’s glass of rum

Gil is concerned

Ate tons of Tums

 

Well. it needs a little sprucing but that’s as far as I’m going. For now, anyway.

 

Because I really don’t understand why the man in the car with Kentucky license plate 331 VBD used hate to get his point across at Papa John’s on Lower Hunters Trace and Dixie Highway in Louisville early this morning

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Neo-nazi Camp In Rural Milford Shut Down By Milford Health Board After Injury To One Of Its Members!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Safety concerns raised after member’s head was caught in the toilet in the outhouse after head-plunging procedure was going great guns.”

 

At the Milford Recording Studio, taping an advertising jingle for Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage

 

“Ahhhhhhhhh, Baby,

This meat is full of taste

And it’s ALL FOR YOU

 

Sit yo ass down and do

WHAT YOU GOT TA DO

 

Eat your ass blind

And experience Heaven’s

MASTERPIECE

 

No, no, don’t leave Gil this way

No, don’t leave Gil this way…”

 

“Anybody get a hold of Thelma Houston yet? I’m not getting my butt in the sling over copyright infringement”

 

Hi Crystal. I see you at Jeff Smith Marathon in Edwardsville, Indiana. She and Bre(like “key”) are two VERY friendly people who greet the customers with the utmost courtesy and respect. Throw in mechanics who get the job done as attested by all the cars that fill up the parking lot (BUSY) on the property and you have a whale of abusiness. But don’t take my word for it. Take Exit 118 off of I-64 in Indiana, head to 62 West and it’s the first road to your LEFT as you leave the freeway. You’ll see the business. Great gasoline, great prices, great mechanics. Gang, I think you catch my drift. Catch it at Jeff Smith Marathon and say hello to Crystal and Bre. You’ll be VERY glad you did.

 

WHAT is that thing in P2, splitting the girls? Is it that gigantic door from 2001: A Space Odyssey? I don’t see any apes around, at least none from the football team and the one ape that was making a spectacle of himself during football is at some marriage  enrichment seminar with his wife (Assuming she still claims Chet of the Jungle) . I’m still trying to adjust my eyes trying to translate Vulcan while going in the out door or going out the in door, same difference. Well, like Joe Walsh said, being a student at Milford High School is living a Life of Illusion. No better example than P2.

I don’t THINK that the obelisk wannabe is something anybody prays to five times a day. I was under the impression that Muslims pray towards Gil’s office that many times (“Surrender to the Will of Gil and accept Coach Kaz as his Prophet.”)

Oh, I KNOW (slaps head). It’s a stoplight. The hallways in the M.C. Escher hallways can get a little confusing. Helps to have Big Brother the Traffic Cop to sort it all out.

 

“Aw, C’mon, Gilby. Mimi really likes you. Hermie tried to make out with her and she said she only dates guys who referee her girls’ 5-game schedule. And I know you’re patched cuz I heard you scored a 92 on the open-book exam. You can’t keep fantasizing about Dr. Pearl forever.”

“Who are you going to make out with, Oscy?

“Marcia Brady!!!!!!!!!!! I heard she is really hot-to-trot after Alice the Maid showed her a few moves. Used a scrub brush to get her point across.”

That summer, I gained my manhood. We would marry 47 years later but making out behind the tackling dummies was more fun than a barrel of Nerf footballs used in the previous plot while Oscy and Marcia had some fun in the equipment shed, making sure the door was deadbolted so Luhm wouldn’t come in to fix the riding mower blades. Hermie had to settle for Dr. Pearl’s great-great-great granddaughter. He may have had to return her by the 8:00 curfew so she could finish her multiplication tables but he did get a kiss out of her. On the lips.

As for Dr. Pearl, watching her boobs press through her blouse while she was loading boxes in the attic was exhilarating. It was a little like observing gigantic prunes that the Jolly Green Giant eats for breakfast hanging through Kaz’s hammock but still exhilarating. The roar of Mudlark Lake bespoke her mystique. Her beehive bun came from Never Never Land.

 

And if we have to endure one more stinkin’ bad plot, we’ll be grumbling more than 3 times a week, rest assured.

 

Big shout-out to Thelma Houston. A very classy woman whose hit “Don’t Leave Me This Way” still rings true as it did when it hit the charts big back in 1977. Never one to rest on her laurels, she is still recording to this day and has acted in several movies and TV shows. I don’t know about you, Gang, but when a person still wants to keep performing even after she hit the Big Time, it is my humble opinion that that’s what makes a STAR. I salute you, Thelma, and hope you keep up the good work.

 

Gang, if I see one more Marcia Brady at 17 visage as in P3, I’m demanding my money back. I’ve already gotten refunded after returning a moldy Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage Flame-Broiled to Milford IGA, but I can always get another one out of the bunker, the ones next to the George Jones Old Fashioned Breakfast ‘n’ Bed Sausage. We can’t get another plot. Football proved the futility of that particular venture.

I was really working up my courage on a dare from Hermie and Oscy. Hermie Shaw had already disappeared like he always does when football season is approaching its climax. Asking for his mom’s Nair evidently was a bit too embarrassing. Surely the druggist at Milford Apothecary knew his mom shaved her legs.

At any rate, at the Milford Apothecary for Round Two

“May I help you?”

“Do you all sell banana splits?”

“Nope. The Bucket down the street does. Do you need directions?”

“No, that’s all right.”

Well, here goes

“I would like CruexJockItchmedicine100jockstrapsacoupleoffootballhelmetssomeLifesavers10rubbers5atheleticbandages534boxesofBand-AidssomehydrgenperoxideinthejanitordrumsizesoScottwillquitbitchingandapartridgeinapeartree.”

“We’re out of Lifesavers.”

“Do you have everything else?”

“Sure. Give me 15 minutes. My help had to make a delivery to Dorothy Pearl. Had to drop off her Ex-Lax.”

“No problem.”

Whew, that was easy. I couldn’t wait to see the looks on Hermie’s and Oscy’s face. Now I could go all the way with Dr. Pearl. Hermie would leave in defeat but you heard that before. Oscy would be able to buy rubbers and earrings with ease several decades later but by then he would be my assistant. And the druggist cheerfully came back

“Here you are. Have a nice day.”

“Gee, thanks. Oh, BTW, WHERE’S THE RUBBERS?”

“They’re underneath the football helmets, nice and neat.”

“Oh yeah. Sorry. Thanks, Mr. Druggist.”

“No problem. Hope she’s fun.”

 

So much for trying to sneak one past somebody. But I still had Hermie and Oscy with egg all over their faces. That’s what mattered for the moment.

 

Gang, I could be wrong but ol’ Foghorn here thinks Marcia Brady is tryin’ to execute a funny. It would HELP if we knew what the Hell she was talking about. I know what Watson the Supercomputer is, the IBM wunderkind, but WHAT IS IT REFERRING TO? We’ll have to toil through several more panels to get the joke? After several days, if Alexa’s weight training pays off by being able to lift Deep Blue off the ground with her index finger while holding a conversation with Marcia Brady about boys, the funny will have fulfilled its mission.

 

If ya gotta go to Milford A-poth-a-carry cuz ya is in-breedin’ once again with yore kid sister after ya got inta an argument over how many Tinker Toys got distributed to yaz both, b ut ya gotta hit the A-poth-a-carry once agin cuz ya ran out of pro-teck-shun, ya might be a redneck.

 

Because I’m still in bewilderment over these ads promising hardness for HOURS

 

While Coach Shaw has a problem on the Serta Love Sofa in the garage

“Hermieeeeeeee, it’s time to come to bed!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Come on down and do what ya got ta do!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“I can’t, Dear. I’m stuck between the cushions!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Honey, don’t leave me this way. Now quit trying to pretend you have a problem and let’s have some fun.”

“I’M NOT KIDDING!!!!!!!!!!!! That Erec-9000 Vita-Plus Medicine sold by Milford Men’s Clinic was good as advertised. They weren’t kidding when they said she’d love you like a rock for hours!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I didn’t think I’d be stuck like a rock for hours!!!!!!!!! I can still get to my beer!!!!!!”

“Hermie, you’ve come up with some excuses before to not have sex with me but you had me fooled on those. I’m not buying this one. My heart is full of love and it’s all for you!!!!!!!!!!”

“And this LOVE SOFA IS FULL OF ME!!!!!!!!!!!!! Quick!!!!!!! I think that old See-Saw is behind the tool bin!!!!!!!!!!! Get it out and pry me loose!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Hermie, If I leave YOU THIS WAY, you won’t have any carnal knowledge. Now stop making things up and hold my hand.”

“I can’t even hold my significant other, let alone get up from it!!!!!!!!! Did you ever try to stand up while your stomach’s on top of a flagpole?????”

“I salute you for your brilliant evasive technique-”

“Well, it’s either you criticize my lack of imagination for excuses or you can have anal sex. There’s an obvious problem with that.”

 

“Well, doggie, you can imagine the dilemma I was in. I didn’t want my wife to leave me but I didn’t know how to get down from Mt. Everest. But she FINALLY got the See-Saw if I promised to use the Erec-9000 on our second honeymoon.

But y’know, that’s a pleasant problem because I did get down and do I what I gotta do right on that Love Sofa. We just made sure to avoid the gaps in the sofa and Sexual Elixir was at a premium. Come buy a slice of your own troubles at Milford Men’s Clinic where your problems begin once your erectile problems end.”

 

Go at it, Gang. My money is on a week before we find out when the Supercomputer funny is grasped. Isn’t that when Looney Tunes comes on?

 

Gilby comes to Dr. Pearl’s retreat house on Mudlark Island. The whippoorwill is faintly heard in the distance.

He enters.

No one is in the living room. There’s a note on the coffee table

“Dear Doctor Pearl,

We regret to inform you that your husband was killed in action at the Second Battle of Bull Run-”

 

“Hi, Gilby.”

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry, I’m a mess.”

“For 1800 years, you look fine”

“I don’t think I do.”

 

Dr. Pearl heads to the kitchen

“I’m sorry”

Dr. Pearl turns around

Gilby and Dr. Pearl embrace and slow-dance to the Summer of ’42 Theme. The Summer Knows. More than it cares to know in this plot.

Dr. Pearl leads Gilby to the bedroom. Like watching a petrified tree undress, they finally come to bed. And Gilby is enjoying his Second Manhood.

“I think you should go now, Gilby.”

 

She left me a letter later

“Dear Gilby, I had a wonderful time that night. You didn’t need Vita-Plus to enjoy me and I thank you for that.

I hope good things and only good things happen in your life. I am leaving, never to return until I become Principal. It’s a pity that football didn’t leave sooner but sometimes you don’t win Antietam. But you’ll win the war, Gilby. Just not the football games. It’s been nice knowing you.”

And so my days in the Summer of ’42 were in a reverie, a block of events I rue I cannot bring back. We all went on to bigger and better things and football sank in the South Pacific. Sometimes poetic justice has a way of turning its vengeful head. But my boyhood was rewarding and taught me that you could disappear after you had the time of your life. I had Dorothy Pearl to thank for that. Now basketball awaits, belated so. There might be another Dorothy at the free throw line. One can hope.

Will Football Last Another 5 To 10 Months?

Ah, Bob Dylan

 

What time is it

Said The Hand

To Charlie when they met

 

5 to 10

Said Charlie

 

The Hand said

That’s what your step-dad’s gonna get

 

Damn, I hate to leave CLASSIC stuff but I’m still trying to figure out what Charlie is wearing under his other shirt.

Now because it appears to be a star, I can’t say that Chance has written

GIL THORP COULDN’T BARF OR COACH HIS WAY OUT OF HIS PERSONAL TOILET IN HIS OFFICE

Don’t you get In-School if that were spotted by some teacher? I think so. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the schools but that or

MS. RIZK NEEDS TO HOT-WIRE HER HEAD OUT OF HER TYPEWRITER

really wouldn’t do justice either.

Oh, okay, one more for you fuddy-duddies who don’t know when to give up

MARTY WASN’T JUDAS ISCARIOT THIS TIME?

Any or all of these inscriptions could grace Charlie’s shirt as long as he doesn’t walk past the principal’s office. And I’m bettin’

DR. PEARL BEGAN WEARING DENTURES DURING THE GILDED AGE

would probably get him in trouble too. Don’t go the way of your step-dad. Charlie. You wouldn’t want to be disgraced being sentenced to wearing a beard that was skinned from some skunk roadkill. Silence is seldom misquoted.

 

BIG shout-out to Iroquois Gardens Apartments of Louisville, Kentucky and their property manager, Melissa Frye. I was pleasantly surprised at the amenities and comfort of my new apartment. Microwave, dishwasher, refrigerator, an excellent atmosphere and space, important for all the books I have and use to get ideas for this site. And Melissa makes a good point, the apartments are run by a corporation but you wouldn’t know it coming into her office. She and everybody else know my name. Looks like personalized service to me. Factor in an affordable price and you got yourself a winner. Stop in and say Hello to Melissa and her friendly staff if you’re looking for a place to live and check it out. I think you’ll agree, this doesn’t compare with many of the apartments in the area. It really doesn’t.

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

Now I’m going to take a stab at what is I THINK on his shirt, self-assured Charlie doesn’t want to go the way of his step-dad. I bet it’s Captain America and any time now, if Chet or anybody else continue to mess with Tommy Rich, er, Chance, Charlie will rip off that flannel shirt, fling his shield at these bete-noires and saw ’em in two and Democracy will be restored.

I COULD say that’s a pentagram but there’s no evidence of Charlie belonging to the Milford High School Satan Worshipers Club but I never saw an upside-down cross in the hallway in P1 or in Charlie’s room. I’m sticking with my original Captain America theory.

 

As Charlie approaches Chance, revealing what’s under the flannel shirt

“Smmmmiiiilllleeeee, you’re on Candid Camera”

As Allen Funt comes out of the locker

“Naw, it was one big-ass joke, Chance. Chet Ballard really likes you and never did any of that stuff. In fact, he’s underwriting your scholarship for one of the Power 5 football schools, isn’t that right, Charlie?”

“Yeah, in fact, Nick Saban is coming this afternoon, after he gets done signing autographs at The Bucket.”

 

Come on, you naysayers, Charlie doesn’t pray 5 times towards the Milford Church of Satan. Isn’t this more plausible?

 

We prefer to spend our time

On athletic news

Not wasting our time with some lout

 

And pretend we’ve flipped the lever

And fried his ass to Hell

Leaving no sign of his whereabouts

 

If we could change his mind

If we could alter brain and moral signs

If we could return the way it used to be

We would omit folks with itchy properties

Dig a grave and throw away the key

Focus all our eyes on sporting activities

Scrap his beard and insecurities, you see

 

If only we could change his mind

If only he would change

If we had a gun

We’d blast him again and again

 

And pretend that we’re not happy

Since he went away

Oh, if only we could change his mind

 

Then there’s P2 and this is the raison d’etre of Gil Thorp. Put another way, if The Joker were to rob Milford Federal Credit Union, Milford High School Federal Credit Union, Fort Milford Federal Credit Union, Milford Savings and Loan, Milford Cash Advance (“Just pay back the full amount you robbed by this Friday if you don’t want tbe interest to accrue.”) , Milford National Bank, Milford State Bank, and some kid’s lemonade stand (We’re talking about The Joker, you understand) , Robin is not going to meet Batman on the streets of Milford while Batman is zipping up his cape after a quickie with Catwoman at the Milford Best Western and say “Gosh, Batman, I knew you didn’t have anything to do with The Joker’s crime spree. I knew it all along.”

“Don’t sweat it, old chum. BTW, would you return the room key to the manager on duty? Just tell them somebody dropped it by the ice machine and you were doing your duty as a citizen of the law.”

 

Really, P2 is just a waste of a panel. Why would we suspect that Charlie had ANYTHING to do with all the computer hacking and illegal downloading and performing illegal investigations, executing unoffical business? Like this was a Bonnie and Clyde operation.

That’s right, Charlie steps inside building past security while Chet distracts them by taking a leak in the shrubbery. Chet will get a slap on the wrist and future directions to the restroom and walk away with information Dressed to Kill. Right.

Chance had a hard time calling Chet “Dad”.

 

If ya gotta use the garbage can lid while yuz a Superhero ta fight th’ scum and grime in tha city of Milford except on Tuesday when Milford Sanitary Solutions makes its rounds, ya might be a redneck.

 

Big shout-out to Ryan Roth and Roth’ Pizza of Elberfeld, Indiana. I drove by there the other day and it was a classy operation. I am not surprised as Ryan’s a top-notch individual who was great to work with at TJ Maxx. He sells great pizza and stroms at great prices in a small-town atmosphere. Customer is King with this gentleman. In fact, the only thing bad about him is he hates my favorite teams. Oh well, one can’t have everything. Take exit 29 south off of I-64 in Indiana and take the first exit off of I-164 and follow the signs to Elberfeld. Once you hit Elberfeld, he’s smack dab in the middle of town. Can’t miss him.

Support Small Business, Gang. You need to go where everybody knows your name. Ryan knows mine and has for years.

 

Y’know, I’d hate for those fists in P3 to be bumper cars. I wouldn’t want to call 1-FON-THE-JAWS after my pelvic area got Captain America’d. Nuff said.

 

“And that’s the end of the 3rd quarter here at Mudlark Stadium with the score in this Valley Conference Winter Extension contest, Milford, 27, Oakwood, 10. This is Marty Moon on WDIG-TV, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

On Coach Thorp’s 58,000 acre hog farm that abuts the city limits of Milford, at his homestead

“So you’re saying that if I stop accepting hog meat that was stowed away on The Mayflower that I’ll make more money?”

Robby Howry, fresh from his Accounting 212 class at Milford Community College

“Yes, you will. In fact, we’re studying Tax-credit Procedures that I aced on the exam and there’s a lien surcharge on every crate of pork smuggled out of the ship. But the Milford Town Hall will grant a tax reimbursement incentiv3 on every unused package that Milford High School cafeteria is prepared to dump in the Milford Sanitary Solutions truck.”

“Bull shit.”

“Bull shit?”

“Young man and WDIG-TV, I apologize for the profanity on the air, but you don’t know anything about sausage…”

“…just like you don’t know anything about bookkeeping or coaching?”

“Precisely. We import only the finest pork, some from far-away places, to ensure quality in every bite. Sausage, like Martini & Rossi, only gets better with time. And we use only the finest of spices and condiments to enrich flavor at its peak performance. Import duties are financed by the sausage distillation wing of the processing plant.”

“Wow!!!!!! Nice to know rosemary and sage sold under the table from Laos is honestly financed. And the savings is passed on to the consumer.”

“Gil, did you also tell him that Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage uses no fillers or cheap ungredients in its meat?”

“That’s right, Mimi. Robby, you need to stick to billboards when you’re not reviewing debentures for the quiz. We don’t need Crisco or Elsie the Borden Cow to fatten up our sausage. We use only the finest cuts of Polish Kielbasa so that breakfast and church picnics can experience manna from Heaven.”

“Let me assure you, Robby, I don’t need Crisco or Clabber Girl when I’m frying sausage burgers for Gil.”

“Mmmmmmm, mmmm, why go through the drive-thru at McDonald’s for a McChicken that’s on life-support in the microwave when I can indulge in one of Mimi’s Double Smoked Sausage & Cheese Patty Melts? Tennessee Pride couldn’t process a Junior Whopper with their sausage.”

“Gee, Coach, you’re right. It’s like telling Burger King to make Whoppers out of Veggie Burgers. I wouldn’t change a thing.

“Here, Robby, so there’s no hard feelings after you trashed my husband, here’s a Triple Decker with Onions. And I’ll pour you a Frosty Root Beer, no charge.”

“Oh boy!!!!!!!!!!! I’m in Heaven!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“No, Robby, you’re in Milford, home of the finest sausage in the land. Come get a package of Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage today at your local grocery outlet. Remember, sausage and coaching go together like pork fritters and fries.”

Comment away. I’m headin’ to Milford IGA because I understand that Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage is tastier than George Jones’ Sausage. Except George was adept in his profession but I’ll try anything once.

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Vandals Caught While Trying To Excavate Plymouth Rock!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Spokesperson from Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage denies any connection with the crime. ‘Our meats come from above the ground.”

Edited to add: Long time readers may have noticed a delay in posting of the images for the strip last week. This was due to an extended sojourn in the Tortolita mountains of the Sonoran Desert, a few photos from which appear below with T. Drew’s permission and encouragement. – TimP

Look Sharp, Feel Sharp, Be… Blunt

 

I’m at a loss for why this visit to the Chance Macy family home is dragging out as long as it is.  I mean, we even get a beat panel for Pop-pop to bobble his head. Is it to finally fill in the blanks as to the whereabouts of Chance’s parents?

Previously I’d speculated that they went the way of Silent John Pascoe’s folks. Perhaps they met a more sinister fate. Have they been banished to the great unknown with the Thorp children? Or was it simply a Tonight Show gag gone horribly wrong?

Speaking of which, how are you fixed for blades, Chance?

Shortest. Debate. Ever.

Geez, Chet, when has doing the right thing ever stopped you? Or netted you the results you were after?

You do realize that your logins are being captured and it won’t take an internet ninja to figure out what you’ve been up to. Even if it’s Kaz doing the ninjaing (ninjing?). There are steps to be taken between nosing around in students’ permanent records and getting Chance kicked off the football team. Once you take them, it’ll only be a matter of time before everyone from Gil to the mop Steve Luhm left behind in the janitor’s closet will be hip to your scheme. Then the only one getting kicked off of anything will be you off the school board – and maybe out of the family home. I hear Uncle Gary might have some room for you on a sleeper sofa in LA…