This Week in Milford

February 19, 2019

“Gil, Don’t you think ‘Vocational Guidance Counselor’ belongs in the shed?”

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Ya gotta be kidding me. I’m presuming that’s Booby on the other end of the line unless he is following up with a prank phone call (outside chance) .

“Do you sell Mudlar-K-Cola in cans in the cafeteria?”

“Yes, we do.”

“You better let the Mudlar-K out.”

Yeah, if I wanted to see my nephew’s baseball coach fired (and I DIDN’T. He was an excellent coach-RIP, Coach Sparrow) , I’d go to the office secretaries at the school. The buck’ll stop there, fer sure. I’m confident the office temp from Milford-Rent-A-Sec will be on the same page with me when I complain that Gil doesn’t know how to flash the bunt sign. And she’ll cheerfully respond how She feels my pain, that Gil didn’t execute the hit-and-run in the 3rd inning last year against Madison because he didn’t know how to overcome the stench when the base umpire passed gas. Get an oxygen mask next time, Thorp, when waving a guy home. HEY!!!!!!!!!!! Whattya know, we have a connection!!!!!!!!!!! Before I put my Marlboro out in the ash tray by the seats where 2 new enrollees are sitting, me and the secretaries will be talkin’ like Casey Stengal.

Dr. Pearl, coming out of the office with her Night School Attendance Report-2017,

“Can anyone around here coach this game?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Only in Thorpiverse do we have Dirty Harry practically being asked to run the vermin out of San Francisco and Milford (Quite a bit of ground to cover-aaaaa, he’s Harry, the scriptwriters will think of something) but not before he asks “Mother, may I?”. And the fact that we are dealing with 2-3 other inchoate plots that will more than likely remain inchoate just makes for a nightmare of a season. I pity ESPN. It’s like Mike Patrick and Dickie V. doing the North Carolina-Duke game, then switching over to the History Channel for the rest of the season, basketball swept up in the Dust Bowl. “Yeah, they’re rockin’ and rollin’ here in the Colosseum!!!!!!!!! Gaius Maximus Atrivius is one of my Diaper Dandies. I’ve seen him dunk on a lion with such strength and agility!!!!!!!!!!!” I think you get the point.

Anyone dumb enough to believe  Gil will finish what he starts need only check out the golf plot where a bunch of rag-tag assholes run our heroes in the ground, then disappear while Gil tells his heroes that it’s always important to use Scout’s Honor when figuring the scorecard. The Perry Mason episode that never was.

“Raise your right hand and repeat after me. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do.’

“You may be seated.”

“Now, Mr. Palmer, I understand there was a discrepancy between what you wrote down for Mr. Nicklaus and The Golden Bear’s own version. He’s saying his one shot didn’t count because he was doing an instructional video during The Masters.”

“That’s correct.”

“And yet you say all shots count whether you swing your club to fend off the flies, disseminate an odor when your grandmother farted, or, in this case, when you’re showing the kids how to putt around a tree.”

“That’s correct.”

“Don’t you think you should allow leeway when putting around a redwood? Line up the shot? Shoo the squirrels away so they don’t ruin the eagle you’re about to sink? In fact, didn’t that happen when you were at Mount Kilimanjaro Country Club, an elephant herd  interfered with your hole-in-one?”

“The male was horny and had been to the Milford Men’s Clinic for ED and got cured in 2 hours and was chasing a reluctant female and the whole band of females turned on him and ran him out of the savannah…”

“Just answer the question. No need for National Geographic.”

“Yes, it happened.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, I’m here to assert that Mr. Palmer should implement honor and dignity, as well as mercy when playing a Gentlemen’s Game. The Machiavellian way of thinking that Mr. Palmer is employing-”

“WILLLLLLMMMMAAAAAAA, where’s my Fruit of the Looms? I’m late for work. Mr. Slate will kill me!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“In the clothes basket in the den, dear.”

“Gee, Fred, I wouldn’t get too worried. Mr. Slate said you could use another tardy and you’ve saved up a bunch of ’em. You won’t get fired anytime soon. In fact, you might want to use a few on your bowling game, a hee hee hee, a hee hee hee hee…”

“Har dee har har, Rubble. I bought that new Brunswick at the Bedrock Sporting Goods store. The pins won’t know what hit ’em…”

 

And we still have Robby “2 Billboards” Howry to deal with. Well, gang, you know I’m not going to leave you empty-handed. Without further ado, Monty Python has returned, handcuffed to Arthur “2 Sheds” Jackson. Oh, you Python junkies know who I’m talking about. A composer who was thinking of buying a 2nd shed, hence got plastered with the moniker, occasionally bristling at this moniker.

But wait, there’s more. If you read my post NOW, you’ll get not one but TWO Monty Python sketches, a second one, “Vocational Guidance Counselor.” If that isn’t enough to make you get off the Laz-ee-Boy and get to the phone and dial the 800 number, I’ll throw in a free Gil Thorp coif, Special Everly Brothers Edition, 1959, but you must act now. Operators are standing by and you’re running out of Rogaine.

Anyway, without giving away the rest of the sketch, “2 Billboards” Howry was kind enough to take time away from muckraking Gil on his Outdoor Advertising and interview with Marty “2 Weeks” Moon on WDIG. Let’s eavesdrop.

“So why are you called ‘2 Billboards’?”

“The same reason why you’re called ‘2 Weeks’. It wasn’t planned that way but in the end, the nickname stuck like brown-stained underwear. At least I didn’t use profanity.”

“Look, ‘Equipment-Manager-cum-2-Billboards’, I’m doing the interviewing round here. And why waste time with billboards? Plenty of other advertising mediums. Like us at WDIG, for example. We have an advertising slot for “Gil eats worms, Spaghetti O’s, and the Big One, not necessarily in that order” between Milford Muffler & More and Mudlark Denture Repair.”

“Thanks for the offer. Right now, billboards seem to be working and the most cost-efficient I can find at this point.”

“Pshaw. Where else are you going to gouge Gil at $50 per slot? We can undercut the competition because we’re WDIG. Ethics belong in a Gideon’s Bible, not here in my studio. And we even supply the writing team. Free!!!! Gratis!!!!!! BTW, I understand you conjure up a lot of YOUR ideas in the equipment shed.”

“This is a false rumor based upon Pee Wee Herman being caught jacking off a shoulder pad. I am nowhere near the shed when I’m writing billboard slogans.”

“In spite of the reports that you were seen with Pee Wee at the basketball games, carping on Gil’s strategy.”

“Look, I’ll admit Pee Wee said that Gil should have done a triangle-and-two on Jefferson and I agreed. Their guards were lighting it up all not long. But that’s all there is to that.”

“Right . Now I understand your billboards got a Triple A Rating from the Better Business Bureau-”

“What is THAT????”

“What is what?”

A wide-screen photograph of Pee Wee in the boy’s bathroom at The Bucket reading a Gideon’s Bible, among other things, in stall #2 appears in back of them.

“It’s Pee Wee!!!!!!!!!!! Get it off!!!!!!!”

“He is.”

“Remove the damn photo on the screen!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Marty nods to someone offstage. A picture of “2 Billboards” Howry standing with Sir Edmund Hilary on Mt. Everest with “2 Billboards”‘s billboard shows up in its stead.

“Now as I was saying, the Chamber of Commerce nominated a couple of candidates last week for President of the C of C Board. They both liked your billboards. They endorsed “Come to Milford, where the only bad part of town is the coaching”. In fact, Dr. Pearl and Pee Wee called me personally and wanted you to be their campaign manager. Billboards are a great inside track for running for office plus it’s great sex therapy and will solve Pee Wee’s ED prob-”

THERE IS NOTHING BETWEEN ME AND PEE WEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“You don’t have to shout. It’s OK to admit that you saw Pee Wee have an affair with Dr. Pearl behind the stack of football helmets, sharing a Bucket Chocolate Shake, feeding each other burgers-”

“What’s that got to do with BILLBOARDS????????”

“Is he giving you any trouble?”

Bacon appears after The Mamas And The Papas, Second Edition just finished an album at Milford Recording Studios.

“Yes, a little.”

Grabs “2 Billboards” by the collar

“All right, ‘2 Billboards’, we’ve had our belly full of your trysts with Pee Wee and dragging down the team as a result. How Gil can design a Statue of Liberty with you 2 love birds in the equipment shed is left for Mary Worth to figure out. Or even Roscoe Sweeney.”

Throws “2 Billboards” into the WMFD station wagon which just stopped at the light

“Get your own comic strip, punk.”

“Yeah, WDIG Studios isn’t big enough for the 3 of us. We can thrash Gil without your help, ‘2 Billboards.'”

 

If yore posin’ in the 20 degree weather in front of the Polaroid One-Step by the billboard advertisin’ Gil takin’ up drag racin, Midget Division, at Milford International Speedway cuz ya admire Gil takin’ up somethin’ he can actually perform without a hitch, ya might be a redneck.

 

I think we can leave P1, comforted that Bozo the Clown is not expressing his concerns about Thorp’s X’s and O’s. He may be a clown but he’s not an idiot. Bozo knows all about going to school board meetings (“Okay, boys and girls, today we’re going to learn about Parliamentary Procedure after I pass out these Archway Cookies. Ummmmmm, isn’t strawberry delicious?”) for questioning-of-coaching-methods procedures. I think it’s also safe to say that that isn’t Mr. Moose, Mr. Green Jeans, Grandfather Clock, or Mr. Burns, Homer’s boss (which doesn’t belong on the list?-I can see the brain teaser) .

And really, as long as “2 Billboards” is short on reality, why not cut reality even shorter by walking into the station manager’s office at WDIG and asking him what your purpose should be in life? Y’know, “2 Billboards”, I will remember that the next time I’m having a mid-life crisis, suffering from a career change. Simple. Call Murray the K. Skip the employment agency, they only steer you to Whopper-maker at Burger King (“Come dress to impress. Must be able to work at least 32 hours and know how to run the Whopper press…”) , Howry. Let’s hit the Mother Lode and ask Wolfman Jack if Janitorial Science is the right career for you.

Clap for the Wolfman

“Awooooooooooooo, do ya like toilet plungers, My Friend?”

“Sure. I always use ’em, especially when the gas won’t pump in my gas tank hose. Just one plunge and the octane hits bottom.”

“My Man, awooooooooooooo, I think yuz on the right career path. Milford Community College has an 8-week night class beginning in March. And they’ll waive the enrollment fee. The last 2 weeks of the class is on-the job-training. By then, you’ll know what sanitizer to use when filling the soap dispenser and toilet brush to use when cleaning the vomit out of the toilet. Awoooooooooooooo, Wolfman can get carried away with the Jack when doin’ the night show. They’ll start you off on the 3rd floor latrines. The Wolfman’ll feel safe takin’ a #2, knowin’ I’m in competent hands.

But hurry, classes are fillin’ fast. Ya got me as a reference. That ought get ya in if ya enroll late. Awooooooooooooooooo.”

 

Today’s Black History Month entry goes to John Marshall Alexander, Jr., or Johnny Ace. A man with an excellent even voice, the dude strung together several hits like “Cross My Heart”, “Please Forgive Me”, “The Clock”, “Saving My Love For You”, “Never Let Me Go”, and his #1 hit, “Pledging My Love”. He is embraced by musicians such as Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, David Allen Coe, Elvis Presley, and Paul Simon, who, like me, enjoy his irresistable crooning. He toured heavily with B.B. king and Big Mama Thornton. In fact, tragically enough, while touring with the latter on December 25th, 1954, while carelessly messing with a gun, he accidentally shot himself and instantly died. A VERY promising career was needlessly cut short. Please join me in reviving his career by spreading the word about a VERY talented and outstanding career who only saw good times ahead, had he lived.

 

 

So introducing P2 orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

vocational guidance counselor

Vocational Guidance Counselor

VOCATIONAL GUIDANCE COUNSELORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

 

“…and Mr. Thorp, based upon your test results, I think I can say, without fer of contradiction, that the best vocation suited for you is chartered accounting.”

Gil “Several Plots” Thorp is stupified

“But I already AM a chartered accountant.”

“Well, we can always dig into the files again. Have you tried banking? Or perhaps international finance? You can work with Bhutan on all their bankrupt ledgers-”

“No, no, I’m fed up with 60+ years of figuring people’s taxes, revenues, debits, credits, that sort of thing. I want something ADVENTUROUS.”

“Adventurous? You dare want to be a lion tamer???”

“Nah, too easy. I kicked one in the nuts at the Milford Petting Zoo. I had him lickin’ like Dino when kids would feed him  Milk Bones.”

“Or underwater shark hunting?”

“Shoot, you checked out Red Lobster’s menu? There’s so much shark meat, they sold the excess to Hardee’s because they had a Thickburger shortage.”

“What about the Green Berets??”

“We’re the ones who assassinated Hussain. It was a cinch. Caught him air-guitaring “Rocky Mountain Way” in a minaret. Dead duck.”

“Then what Is it that you want with your life?”

“I’d like to coach.”

COACH???????????

“Sure. It looks easy. Boss around some players, they win the State and you get all the credit. Don’t have to worry about plots or plays, they just work themselves out while you live large on the golf course. After the players win the 10th State Championship, they’ll build a mansion for you where you can retire and vacation in Florida in the winter. Player’s’ll go south to visit you. They have been for the last 60+ years. Except for Pulver but he’s an asshole.”

“Coach, it’s not Easy Street as you envision. Long hours, irate parents, players always wanting PT, bad officials. Then you have Marty Moon.”

Gil is cringing

“Have you ever ween him without his goatee???? ARRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH”

“NO!!!!!!!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!! He’s a Bohemian who LOOKS like a Bohemian!!!!!!!!!!! Take that picture away. I didn’t know he had that many teeth!!!!!!!!!! Or pimples!!!!!!!!!! He has more than on Mimi’s butt. Just don’t let him broadcast. They’ll think Beetlejuice took over the mike at the Milford games!!!!!!!!!! And that overbite…”

“Folks, you can help Mr. Thorp realize his true calling in life by writing to this address

The League For Milford’s Chartered Accountants

P.O. Box 7777

Milford, USA

 

Must be sent as Registered Mail. It’s a serious problem, folks.”

 

Gang, comment away. I’m going to see the station manager later on. I hear there’s a career in oil-well drilling in North Dakota. I can pay off my Meijer card.

 

 

 

 

“Awwwwwwww, SLAM BAM JAM, MIKE. What a dunkeroo by Hieronimus Adolphus Caesar, they got him groomed for the next Head Caesar job when he graduates. That was a manhood-stripper. He made that lion eat his lunch!!!!!!! He’s on my all-Chocolate Thunder team, along with Julius Flavius Vextus. Too bad Vextus got eaten cuz he couldn’t out run the lions on the fast break. But that’s college basketball in the Colosseum.”

 

“Awoooooooooooooo, Werewolves of London, Awooooooooooooooo….”

Mick Fleetwood just shakes his head as he throws the drumsticks in the corner and looks mournfully at John McVie. Mac is packing up his bass.

“Booby, hate ta tell ya, mate, yore no Zevon. Stick ta billboard-scrawlin’.”

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January 9, 2019

In Milford It’s Still December

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Now we know why story arcs in this strip run longer than their real-life seasonal counterparts. Check out the calendar on the wall behind Kaz; while we’re more than a week into January, in Milford it’s still December.

That’s not the only evidence that Milford is behind the times, even if it’s not quite the “1959 with cell phones” we often describe it as being.  I mean, look, they’re only on Billboard 3.0?  They haven’t even gotten to Billboard 95 or NT?  The rest of the world has been on Billboard 10 for some time now.  Fifteen-year-old Chevy Monte Carlos still ply the roads, their flanks slowly turning into powder.  (Come to think of it, that’s not out of the ordinary in the Upper Midwest.)  Newspapermen still call their bosses “Chief” Jimmy Olsen style, even while grooming their beards, though unlike Perry White the editors in Milford don’t seem to mind.

Is Kaz showing Gil a photo of Billboard 3.0 Kelly sent him, or has he “called up” robbyreport.com?  As Ned alluded to on Monday, none of us here at TWIM have yet to buy robbyreport.com and direct it here (though GoDaddy would be willing to negotiate to have its owner sell it to you – thanks for the update, Ned :-) ), but that would require effort on our parts.  Maybe we should do a GoFundMe? Let us know in the comments.

 

 

January 5, 2019

Snatch It Back (Up) And Hold It

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GoComics has finally started back putting up the black and white version of the strip, but looking at it today confused me at first.  It looked like Kelly’s tiny hatchback was about to submarine under an eighteen-wheeler Magnus Walker style, potentially making her the first known vehicular casualty in Milford since Addison “Boo” Radley.  The color version we’ve been using of late makes it a bit clearer.

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Of course the dialogue helps with that too: Kelly has just seen the Third Billboard Outside Milford.  Speaking of Boo Radley, good on Whigham for drawing a Bluetooth cockroach in Kelly’s ear.  Hands-free phone usage while driving in the Thorpiverse from now on, not like the times before.

That whole bit about Mrs. Kapoor* and her hand-delivered itinerary, tickets, etc.?  Just a red herring to get Kelly on the road and driving to the edge of town.  Kinda puts a damper on that whole internet ninja thing she had going.  Heck, even Kaz recognizes that travel agencies are a dying business.  (Let’s try finishing Kaz’s sentence for him.  I’ll start: “As long as she’s going back to India three times a year, it’s three times you won’t have to sell plasma for beer money.”)

Credit where credit is due: that was some pretty quick reaction time on Kelly’s part to get off the highway and onto the shoulder into a sand trap at the Milford CC.

*edit: thanks to Son of teenchy, I was able to make the connection between Kelly and Mrs. Kapoor.  SoT watches The Office whereas I do not.

Musical inspiration for today’s post title:

 

January 2, 2019

Martin McDonagh Was Right: Billboards Come in Threes

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Times are tough at the Milford Star.  Ad revenues are way down and they have a staff of three: Marjie Ducey, middle-aged management/editor type guy and the bearded one.  It still has physical offices and the nice little sign out front from its heyday (“Covers the Valley like the Dew“) but it can’t afford to replace that window that mysteriously got broken after the Star ran its piece on the Milford Pirate Network last basketball season.  Well, it’s either that or the window tint fell off; otherwise how could we see the convo between editor type guy and the bearded one?

Bearded guy’s hard-hitting investigative journalism doesn’t really do much to satisfy Editor Guy’s curiosity but it nudges the plot forward just a teeny bit.  Maybe Bobby has rented two billboards and put the same message on both of them two different times, and now plans to do it again.  (“COACH THORP: TAKE A HINT FROM URBAN MEYER AND MARK RICHT”)  Such the suspense!

Meanwhile in the halls of Milford High, unidentified student needles Filion with the slang term that Filion’s been singlehandedly trying to make a thing with the Mudlarks.  Filion fires back with that already tried-and-true phrase of the Milford lexicon, “Ease up!”  Next Gil is accosted by one of the faculty, no doubt to talk about said Filion.  Why she goes to Gil instead of, say, Dr. Pearl is beyond me but then again this strip isn’t named Dr. Pearl.  Probably safe to say that any behavioral anomalies among the Milford student body can be directly attributed to events that happen under Gil’s watch. He’s used to it by now, so her inquiry is not met with a spit take.  All in a day’s work for the most laissez-faire coach in the Valley.

October 27, 2018

Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except Kelly and Her Monkey

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People have spoken

The constraint will be applied

Through football season

 

I was hoping for

More about one of the best

Anti-war films ever made

 

Like whether Gil

Would kill every tenth Mudlark

To improve morale

 

Maybe Joe Bolek

Will desert the football team

Become private dick

 

Or realize

That his teammate’s personal

Life’s not his business

 

But no! Quick cut to

Coach Kaz’s private dojo

Where he flips burgers

 

Self-deprecation

Of his cineastic skill

Does not become him

 

Kaz could just fake it

IMDB is your friend

Brush up on Kubrick

 

What Kelly Krystek

Does with Kaz’s organ is

Not for family strip

 

Well there you have it

The first of several haiku

In the near future

 

I must admit

Downpuppy’s sonnet option

Piques my interest

 

 

 

September 12, 2018

Frank Gehry’s Fast Food Masterpiece

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If you’re not knocked off balance by panels one and two, in which the architect of The Bucket tells Euclid to piss off, then the shifting narrative and stilted dialogue (plus mystery girl in panel two) shouldn’t present too much more of a challenge to parse.

For myself, I can confess nothing but disappointment that we aren’t getting another chance to continue talking about the shitty cars we drove in high school (and/or are driving presently). As it stands, I suppose we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to understand why these characters are being introduced.

Bonus question: Why is the strip’s date inserted front and center of panel two?

July 18, 2018

Competing To Alienate Everyone

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Guys and Gals, can I ask a (kinda) serious question?

What does it say that, of the Bader Family Trio, Ma Bader is the least functional and possibly most psychologically damaged?

I bet those frames don’t even have prescription lenses in them.

Edited to add Frank Zappa’s tribute to the imaginary journalistic profession, Packard Goose:

July 17, 2018

And They Call This Carnival, Progress

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I was trying to hold it in. I have tried to refrain from using one of my favorite lyrics, hoping things would get better and this plot would limp out of existence. Such is not the case. So from the song “Tristesse” by the Australian group, The Church, this particular lyric is here to save the plot from abject lunacy and give us all a bit of sanity,

First off the agenda, as I told Ned in his post, Daffy is a supernumerary in the Bader household. Until today, her contribution to the conversation was worth as much as the Chips Ahoy brownies on the coffee table. And it’s going downhill from there.

Reinvent himself? Into what? Bozo the Clown? “Okay, boys and girls, I was once a 3rd baseman in AAA for the Pawtucket Red Sox but when I couldn’t hit left-handers, I took up Clowning.”

And who made Daffy judge and jury over Bader’s future anyway? She writes an article about Barry’s dad that I wouldn’t be surprised is the slime of the earth where I can only envision that Pa Bader is Pretty Boy Floyd. Then Barry is left to be this byproduct of this bad seed and will never find his way out of that image at this point, especially if Barry attempts to go by Daffy’s definition of reinventing yourself. That could get interesting.

Daffy, wake up and smell the brownies. BARRY IS A BALLPLAYER!!!!!!!!!!!! Nobody within this galaxy is saying Barry’s a gentleman. The kid is stuck on himself. His image is walking flypaper and has drawn more flies than your sleazy comments. But the brat can play the damn game. That has never been an issue and really shouldn’t be here. Now is not the time to locate the nearest comic book in the room, go back to the inside flap of a Little Dot comic and point to the “You Too Can Be a Locksmith!!!!!!!”

“Barry, just send in $8.95 plus shipping and handling to ‘Locksmiths are God, P.O Box 189, New Thayer’. I think I have stamp in my purse.”

 

“…parting is such sweet sorrow.”

“No problemo, Juliet. I’ll call Barry tomorrow since he’s an apprentice at Milford Lock & Key Shoppe. You sure there’s a cot in the Journalism room?”

“Oh, Romeo, it is in the bathroom by the shower stall. Could you toss a wrench up here? The release switch is a bit rusty.”

 

In the middle ad section of a Richie Rich Deluxe Edition

 

“The Scummy Article That Made a Man Out Of Barry”

“JESUS, Bubba, that’s the worst piece of trash you ever wrote about me!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don’t scratch my crotch between innings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Listen, punk, I’d punch your face in but you might dry up and blow away.”

Later

Barry is kicking over the bat rack in the dugout

“GODDAMIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ll show Bubba he can’t write dogshit like that and get away with it. OK, I’ll gamble a stamp and send away for Luke Bunkin’s Strength and Conditioning Program.”

6 months later while flexing in front of the mirror in the locker room

“WOW!!!!!!!!! I’ve got muscles rippling like Coach Thorp’s hairdo. I can’t wait to meet Bubba down at The Bucket and settle the score. He’s flexing his gluteus maximus while downing a tomato and wheat germ oil shake. Talk about rubbing it in. I’ll show him.”

While cramming wheat germ oil shake and a random Banana Bucket Split up Bubba’s gluteus maximus in front of a group of approving women including Mrs. Bader

“WHAT?????? Are you still around? I’ll teach you to take liberties with the 1st Amendment. And I bought some Cruex too!!!!!!!!”

Some girlie girl warms up to Barry. “OH BARRY, where did you get those muscles!!!!!!!!”

“Thanks to the Luke Bunkin Training Program, I have strong muscles and tireless legs. It took a while to lift that Polled Heifer and I failed the first few times outrunning that bull in the field but after getting tired of surgery on my abdomen, I decided enough was enough. And unsubstantiated articles are a THING OF THE PAST. And if I can eat 10-day old corn cobs in the pig sty with the rest of the porkers, SO CAN YOU.”

 

Mrs. Bader, WILL YOU PLEASE PUT YOUR GLASSES ON YOUR NOSE AND USE THEM UNLESS THEY’RE STAPLED TO YOUR HEAD??????? You look like a believable character for “Star Trek: The Next Generation After The Next Generation”

 

In the bathroom stall at Milford Gym girls bathroom stall

TOMMY LASORDA POOPED HERE

 

Do you think it’s alright

To leave Barry with Cousin Steven

Something ’bout him ain’t right

He works at night alone

He carries no phone

 

I think it’s alright

Yes, I think it’s alright

 

We’re all alone, cousin

All alone, cousin

Let’s go to the ball field and play

Now that Gil has stored all equipment away

You were always too much work

Being blind, deaf, and a jerk

But Ms. Rizk is on assignment today

 

How would you feel if I racked you with no cup

Turned on the sprinkler and drowned you 10 feet up

Maybe some lining chalk that’s crammed up your ass

Would cause your innards to fart out snowy gas

 

I’m the school custodian

I’m the perverted cheat

It’s what happens when I’m single

And work nights in the heat

 

I love Laffy Taffy stuck up your nose

And using the stem of second base to beat at your toes

What would you think if you swallowed Red Man chew

A veritable feast washed down with Elmer’s Glue

 

We’re all alone, cousin

All alone, cousin

We’re leaving the ball field, okay

Now that Gil is about to get up this day

You weren’t much fun being blind, deaf, and a jerk

But now I’ve got to go back to work.

 

“See the colors changin’

See the colors changin’

See th-SCCCRRRRRAAATTTCCCHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Peaches drastically ends Tori Amos’ “Beauty of Speed” on the table top

“Marty, what are you DOING?????”

“Let’s see, carry the one and that should make the last 2 digits end in ’00’, making that a factor of 4.”

“Marty, why don’t you come to bed with me? This is the second night and I’ve barely gotten a cold kiss out of you. We only have 3 days left.”

“Peaches, I’m on a roll!!!!!! I’m trying to solve Fermat’s Last Theorem. If I can win over the Milford Mathematical Society, I will no longer have to put up with those snarly kids at WDIG!!!!!”

“Marty, I know you. You will NEVER quit your job at the radio station even if you have $1 million at Milford State Bank and right now it’s this Furman guy or me.”

“Oh c’mon, Peaches!!!!!!!! I just need to work through a kink in the quadratic equation because I think I added 1 radical too many, plus I have still haven’t proven 2+2=4 through reductio ad absurdum. But I’m getting there. Hmmmmmmm, but this contradicts the fact that there are 3 mangoes instead of 5. That’s it!!!!!!!! Now it’s just a matter of time. Shit!!!!!!! If I can angle this TI-46 towards the lava lamp just right.”

“Marty, one theorem you haven’t proven is that I turn you on. Now let’s put aside that weetle itty-bitty cal-kee-late-or and come to bed.”

“AND JUST WHEN I’M ON THE VERGE OF QUOD ERAT DEMONSTRANDUM???????????”

 

Needless to say, the papers were never submitted to the MMS. And to add insult to injury, Marty never had sex. Peaches left. The proof on his theorem was as weak as his wim wim.

Fortunately, the Milford Men’s Clinic can cure Erectile Dysfunction so that Boolean Algebra takes a back seat to mathematical ecstasy. Sex will never be the same once the positive conjugate enters the negative conjugate. That’s one complex number Marty forgot to factor in that night. BUT, he will have his graphing calculator and his ED medicine this weekend or my name isn’t Georg Cantor. The Milford Men’s Clinic has satisfied Gauss and Newton and it can satisfy YOU. Check it out today. You have nothing to lose but unnecessary digits on a repeating decimal.

 

Gang, comment away. I’m going to use a tire jack to pry those glasses off Mrs. Bader.

 

“Daggone it!!!!!!! The solar batteries went dead!!!!!!!!! Peaches, do you have your calculator?????”

“The one I use to figure my piece count at Milford Foundry???? I left it in my other purse at home.”

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