In Kaz We Trust, kinda

Don’t look now, y’all, but I think Rollen Stewart has broken out of jail!  He left his sign next to Kaz and David Walter and is on the lam.

Between the close talking, face and shoulder touching and Kaz’s uncomfortable leer, I’d say Kaz and Gil have been noticing David pretty hard so far.  Let’s hope it’s only ground balls that hit him in the face.

Today’s strip doesn’t advance the plot much, but it does raise the possibility that we finally get a scrappy athlete who’s not a complete self-absorbed douchebag.  Is that too much to hope for?

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The epitimy of wimpiness

How weak does one have to be to go see the trainer after a small cut on ones face that requires a band -aid as medical attention?

Who the fuck would take the time to see the trainer – who apparently isnt even on the premises – for that??

What baseball trainer in the world stays as far away from the field as possible??

What baseball coach lets his player find the trainer INSTEAD OF GETTING HIM HIMSELF??? and telling said player to have a seat? Its a god damn PRACTICE!!! Why the hell does Gil need to remove his player from the field anyway?  Dont they have basic first aid equipment in the dugout? Everyone else in creation does.  Hey, I’ll see you in an hour. Only in Milford does putting on a band-aid require a march off the entire field of play.

Stitches?? On a bad hop? Never saw that occurrence in my life. I’ve seen bigger cuts on an ant.

I follow Sarah Spain on Twitter; she’s a sports reporter for ESPN and also does a podcast. One of her pet phrases is “Why are men? ” to describe general male stupidity. This episode fits perfectly.

 

Will Milford And The NBA Be Contending For Basketball Ratings In June? Stay Tuned.

HEY BOY. YOU’RE LOOKIN’ MIGHTY FINE IN THEM THERE GYM SHORTS. DON’T LOOK LIKE YA GOT ‘EM OUTTA THE LOST AND FOUND. NICE AND SOFT AND FLUFFY. USED PLENTY OF CLING-FREE, I CAN TELL. LIKE THE WAY THEY MOVE WHEN YOUSE ON A 3-ON-2 DRILL IN GYM. AND THAT JOCK STRAP BOUNCES UP AND DOWN LIKE MIMI’S BOOBS. BOY, GET YORE ASS OVER HERE AND F-

 

Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Filion, you okay?”

Filion wakes up. He’s been napping on his English Comp 203 book report, “Milford Horticulture at the Fin de Siecle”. He spots Gil at the desk up front, groggily remembering that Gil is supervising study hall.

“Uh, I’m fine.”

“Fair enough.”

Then Filion thinks twice.

“Coach, can I put my gym clothes in my hallway locker? I forgot I have to wash them this weekend.”

“We have washing machines.”

“I know, but my girlfriend got her toenail polish all over my gym shorts and my mom has some extra-strength Oxydol. It’ll help whiten my jock strap which got grass stains all over it.”

“How did you get grass stains on your jock strap?”

“I guess I got carried away during suicide drills.”

“Filion, we practice inside.”

Before Filion can answer, Gil stands up and bends over

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Filion, I was just picking up a paper airplane and throwing it in the garbage. Sure you’re OK?”

 

Gang, I’m going to the vaults again (bear with me while I’m on my soapbox) because Bobby is getting a royal smack-down and only a “Hit the road, Jack, and doncha come back no more, no more…” was necessary. Just hand him his luggage, give him a one-way ticket on the 2:30 ‘Hound out of the Milford Greyhound station and he’s a ghost of the past. Noooooooooo, we gotta drag this on 3 more panels with NO LIGHT at the end of the tunnel, let alone a basketball on the horizon. (Some flunky from the Nina “Cristafero, Cristafero, tierra!!!!!! tierra!!!!!!!!! Yo veo un basquetbol!!!!!!!!! Parace como un Spalding!!!!!!! Y los inhabitantes pueden Slam Dunk!!!!!!!”) While we’re admiring the crew of the Nina, Pinta, and the Santa Maria’s newly-found treasure (Wilson Basketballs are a premium in the Caribbean) , any of you old-timers remember the days of Berrill when some clown like Booby would get his justice in the 2nd panel then the 3rd panel was almost always an abrubt change of direction, more than likely baseball (“Think our pitching will hold, Gil?” “Depends, Tod” as beaucoup players are seen playing pitch-and-catch, pepper, make it, take it, square-dancing, playing Monopoly, Checkers, Twister, Charades, Uno, etc., all 402 players seen on the field at one time “If they don’t separate their shoulder from playing into July, we ougtha make the Playdowns. And I need Booby back to wash the uniforms or we’re gonna stink our way onto the Disabled List. Can he sneak through Rex Morgan over to Milford? Hell, me and Dr. Morgan look alike anyway, we both go to the same barber,  Booby can just say he’s studying to be a nurse under the doc’s tutelage until this thing blows over.”) . And it was just about ALWAYS headed with a “Meanwhile”.

Oh, not today. “Meanwhile” went the way of Booby’s billboards. You might see either back but the times, they are a-changin’. And I mean ta tell ya, Booby is getting the Jesus Christ Superstar treatment. Spit on, carrying his own cross while singing JUDAS’s song “Damned for All Time”, thank Heaven ‘Dig had the decency to let Judas hang from his own tree, otherwise

Soooooooooo long, Booby

Gooooooood ol’ Booby

 

So Booby was spared the eerie chorus singing Judas’ death knell even though in order to get his ‘Hound ticket, he still had to get 39 lashes AND permanent removal. THAT sucks. Of course, I wouldn’t be comin’ back in the studio with those kind of scars on me anyway. And still find out that Marty is still King of the Broadcasting Hill? Won’t go through Double Jeopardy with a 2nd crucifixion. Those Greyhound busses aren’t very comfy when your back looks like Chinese Checkers. And did you see Booby’s hands? DIE IF YOU WANT TO, YOU MISGUIDED PUPPET. That’s tellin’ ’em, Mr. Station Manager.

 

 

Big shout-out to Carol Kassady of New Albany, Indiana. She goes to work at Kroger with a vengeance because she loves her job. As a bagger, she is well-thought of as management and the customers like her courtesy domplete with a big smile on her face. Now that’s service. She also helps the store in other areas, keeping the grocery aisles well-stocked. No wonder why she’s busy. She just gets it done no matter where she’s at. Gang, the next time you’re inthe store on Chrlestown Road, treat her with respect. She’s earned mine.

 

 

 

 

 

HEY BOY. I LIKE THEM DOCKERS YOU GOT ON. THEY MATCH THE PRAIRIE-STYLE WINDOWS IN THE ROOM. AND YOU’RE A SMART COOKIE. YA BLOWED YORE ACT OUTTA THE WATER. YORE HARVARD, BOY. AND AFTER I GET DONE WITH YOUR FILE, I WANT YOU TO F-

Nooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“Mike, are you Okay? Don’t you want to know what your SAT score was? Looks good from here. 672, verbal, and 602, math. And a couple of good schools have expressed interest based upon those scores. They’re down in this bottom drawer.”

Dr. Pearl bends down to the next-to-bottom drawer.

“Uh, if it’s okay, just call me later at home. My bus just pulled up.”

“Mike, the busses aren’t due for another hour. What’s wrong?”

“Who said anything about a school bus? There’s a Greyhound by the cafeteria entrance.”

 

How many faces does the Station Manager HAVE??????? He went from Chet Huntley the other day to an offbeat Dan Rather today. Does he always display a Chinese Mr. McGoo when he’s pretending to be Matt Dillon?

“Okay, Miss Kitty, that was a rotten thing you said about Jesse James, now it’s time you head out of Dodge by high noon tomorrow. Jesse can’t help it if he twitches when he’s holding up the Dodge City Bank. He gets a nervous tic every time someone reaches for his holster. Thank God the bank manager knew the combination to the safe.”

And as long as we’re going to endure another moratorium on basketball, oh, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, Thorpiverse, we get it, Mr. Station Manager a/k/a “Matt Dillon after he underwent a facelift at Milford Surgical Group” is talking about DON Rickles. I thought Gil Rickles was a bit out of place and Mimi is a female (Mimi Rickles?) and I could go through the Milford phone book and verify that we’re not discussing someone else but after viewing Jose Rickles, Vladimir Rickles, Ed Rickles, Mario de los Santos de nuestro Senor en El Cielo y Las Estrellas Rickles, I think I better stick with DON Rickles.

And anyone who knows or remembers him knows he gets his humor off of insulting people. He’s not my favorite comedian but I like his style nonetheless so I will therefore implement what I THINK Station Manager Dillon is getting at when he compares Booby with DON Rickles (ambitious though it may be)

“So, where do you see yourself a few years from now?”

“Look!!!!!!!! You hockey puck, can’t you shave any better than that? I have no idea where I might be but I won’t be lookin’ like a beatnik at 60!!!!!!!!!!! You? King in THIS town? What are you, MAYOR???? This town has more cows than basketballs, Mayor!!!!!!!! And who’s the schmuck that cuts Gil’s hair???? Does he always use a roller pin?????? And I saw the Play-Doh in the Station Managers office by his gin and tonic. The schmo mixes good stuff but he mixes his face too. Bad combo, you hockey puck!!!!!!!!!!! Does he date Mrs. Potato Head????? Are they going to enjoy Chili Fries at The Bucket?????? Boy, talk about eating with a cannibal. Tell Rubber Face not to put on after shave!!!!!!!!!!! How much time do I have left???? A minute!!!!!!!!!! Heck with it, I’m through with this town, there’s nothing to do, not even a basketball court to play on, you hockey puck…”

Just want to make sure Rubber Band Man a/k/a Station Manager is talking about the right guy. Elmer Fudd Rickles is the only other choice in the phone book.

 

 

HEY BOY!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE LOOKIN’ MIGHTY FINE IN THOSE LENSCRAFTERS, 4 EYES!!!!!!!!!! I LIKE THE WAY YA TRASH THE TOWN, CLOWN!!!!!!!!!! GIVES ME A BONER, BOZO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M HORNIER THAN THE WOMEN AT BARNEY’S BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M HOTTER THAN A PEPPERONI FRESH OUTTA THE OVEN AT THE BUCKET!!!!!!!!!!! YOUR WATER BOTTLE AIN’T GONNA PUT OUT THIS FLAME, BOY!!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE TRAPPED IN THE STUDIO, SO YA MIGHT AS WELL F-

MOON!!!!!!!!!! Pull up your pants and fix the problem or YOUR ass is mine for another 2 weeks!!!!!!!!!!! You’re on in 30 seconds!!!!!!!! That loser left 15 minutes ago!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Yes, Boss.”

 

 

A big shout-out goes to Missy Nall as she rolled a spare and a strike at the bowling alley today. it was COLD today, gang, so getting out and about was an accomplishment in itself, much less doing well in bowling to boot. She was great to talk to today and I could tell she loved talking about her game. I’d call that pride, folks. America needs more of that. When you want to succeed as badly as you want to breathe, you will succeed and Missy proves that. She’s got my respect, gang. America salutes you, Missy.

 

 

 

And what the Hell is worth making basketball a possible sacrificial lamb for another few panels that Gil has to put on his jacket and head to God-knows-where for discussion on the Booby thing? Round 2 at Barney’s? Or are we gonna get slushy here and cry about Booby’s departure over several Michelobs??????? I don’t think The Bucket is really a wise venue but it’s their cash they’re toting in their wallets. Just seems talking about Booby in relation to ANYTHING next to a booth with a zit-faced 16-year-old chowing down on his Bucket Double Decker Cheeseburger is asking for trouble. Talk about “Silence is seldom misquoted.”

And what’s the point? The dude shoehorned his foot in his mouth and Rockville is mad as hornets right now and who can blame them????? If they DO go to The Bucket, just don’t announce it on WDIG. Rockville will be waiting in the corner booth, if not in the parking lot. Face it, Booby is toast, finished, kaput, outta here. Can’t set bail on this one, if that’s the intention and I wouldn’t put it past them, given the travesty of lack of basketball. You’re on a roll, Thorpiverse, stay on a roll.

 

“Meet me behind the alley at The Bucket. I got some info on Booby’s whereabouts.”

“Great. What about basketball?”

“Might take a little longer. Depends on when the NBA schedules the Quarterfinals.”

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry goes to Carol Burnett. I have long loved her comedy and my sister just dotes on her. I can see why. Told she was taking a chance to start up a comedy/variety show back in the ’60’s as only men at that point had been successful inthat field, Burnett just did nothing but make ’em laugh as her show for several years racked up the Emmys, among other awards. She would have a question-and-answer time before the show, a way to show she still had her feet on the ground and the fans everywhere enthusiastically applauded the move. She was also a very talented actress, acting in “Pete and Tillie”, “Friendly Fire, “Annie”, getting nominted for Best Actress by Golden Globe Awards. She would always twitch her ear at the end of the show to remember her grandmother who egged her on for years and died during the show’s run. Also a very talented singer, ppease join me in saluting a woman who showed you could break the mold and be funny at the same time. You keep me in stitches, Carol Burnett.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Do you live a non-stop, work off the set of your pants, sex-crazed, take the kids to soccer practice on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday, turn those reports in tomorrow, Golf, hoping you beat Alice Cooper this one time, go-go lifestyle like I do? Is it sometimes hard to smell the roses so you just stick some incense in your car’s ash tray, light it with your Zippo, and just forget it? And what about that St. Patrick’s Day party comin’ up? Gonna skip shopping night cuz Jimmy Swaggart came into town for a one-night-only Holy Ghost, No Tiptoe Through The Tulips Religious Wimps Allowed, Talkin’-in-Tongues, Filled With The Holy Spirit, Baptism-by-Fire, Hell Fire ‘n’ Brimstone, Miracle Revival, Free Parking Included at the Milford Tabernacle?

Milford Beverage Warehouse is here to the rescue. Hi, this is Coach Thorp. Why do I need to go to the altar and have someone ram 10-15 hands on my head and I get a migraine when I can get truly blessed with my favorite brew? And I don’t need a Holy Joe tract for that one. What’s even nicer is that, through cooperation with Lyft and Uber, I can get up to a case of suds delivered right to my door step. Just call and have your order ready and be there at the time you specify and your order is there before you know it. Yeah, don’t take a quick leak or your kid might have to sign the papers. You might get stuck with a Jim Beam Coffee Tree Aged Premium Whiskey when you wanted a 24-pack of Drewery’s and 2 bags of Doritos Cool Ranch. Easier to share chips with the kids than a bottle of whiskey. My o My, a 15-pack of Miller Natural Light hits the spot when diagramming a matchup zone in the den, especially when the Domino’s driver comes at the same time with my 3 12″ Pineapple ‘n’ Pepperoni Pizzas and unleavened Breadsticks. Only bagels and lox go better with a Natural Lite. The Warehouse also accepts Visa and Mastercard. Good thing to know when you get cleaned out of finances because you got carried away grocery shopping at Wal-Mart. Believe me, Yours Truly is guilty of buying 10 Banquet Meat Loaf and Macaroni Dinners when he was only gonna buy 1, they were so damn cheap. And Mimi sometimes forgets to stay within the budget when she goes down the cereal aisle. We have more Life and Cocoa Puffs in the garage than booze, that’s for sure. And when Poker night extends until midnight, past the ante limit of $1000? Thank God my plastic is in the line of duty or in my wallet in my back pocket, whichever you prefer. Sorry, American Express is Booby right now, both totally unacceptable.

And they deliver everything under the warehouse. Yup, if you have a teetoteler at the party, they will deliver that gallon of Milford Dairies 2% Milk along with the 3 24 packs of Corona Extra, Seagram’s Escapes in the 12-pack mini-bottles, and 2 750 ml bottles of Old Kentucky Tavern, complete with chaser, compliments of Deer Park in the 2 liter bottles. Plenty of room in the trunk. And if you’re thinking of pulling off that annual bacchanalian orgy where everybody runs around the mansion butt naked with a bottle of booze in his or her hand, The Warehouse has gotcha covered. In cooperation with the Milford Transit Authority, busses will run non-stop to and from the mansion to your house. And they will deliver all the merchandise in one bus as desired. Grabbing a Smirnoff Vodka off the steps of the bus or opening the emergency door and plucking an Angry Orchard Hard Cider, man, a unique way to live The Good Life. And there’s a shuttle waiting for you after you’ve upchucked in the mansion courtyard after sipping Clos du Bois a bit too hasty.  Nice to know because once you’ve had your fill of some hog weighing 450 pounds and eating grapes and downing several ml of Korbel Summerville Park without a wine glass, you need someone to take you away from the madding crowd and home so you can punch into Milford Foundry at a respectable hour. By golly, sounds logical to me.

Folks, what are you waiting for? The friendly Lyft driver is ready to endow you with a slice of Paradise. Don’t hand the apple to your neighbor when you can take a bite yourself and not break the bank doing it. Call Milford Beverage Warehouse today. The Party is waiting to drive in your living room. Don’t be caught losing the remote.”

 

Gang, Have at it. If you see a guy hitchhiking at 3:00AM, I don’t think the Milk Man broke down in his truck. He doesn’t start deliveries for another hour.

 

HEY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE LOOKIN’ MIGHTY FINE SLURPIN’ THAT SHAKE!!!!!!!!!!!! I LIKE THE WAY YOU WORK IT SLOWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND THEM BUFFALO FRIES, YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M LIKE FIDO IN HEAT EVERY TIME YOU ROLL YOUR MOUTH, ESPECIALLY WITH THAT KETCHUP ON YOUR CHIN!!!!!!!!!!!!! CAN’T WAIT FOR SOME BURGER ACTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SPEAKIN’ OF MEAT, GET YO’ ASS OVER HERE AND F-

Noooooooooooooooooooooo

“What’s Filion’s problem?”

“Dunno. I just took his order and I turned around to pick up a quartere somebody dropped from the juke box and he just freaked.”

When Your Loophole Becomes a Noose

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You have the power right within the radio dial.

USE IT.

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

“So whattya think?”

“Nuthin’ yet. Still got all night.”

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

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

Gannon looks through his lorgniette.

“Joe, I think we got trouble.”

“And plenty of. Let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gannon obliged, then asked one final question.

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

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

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

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

DUM DA DUM DUM

 

DUM DA DUM DUM DUMMMMMMMMMMM

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what about the Dolly Madison Zingers?”

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

Perfect Kaz

The Mudlarks are not pleased with the ripping they receive from Robby Howry and they want revenge! We’re not sure which clever boy suggests the swirly (for the uninitiated, a swirly is holding somebody’s head in the toilet and flushing) but a more level headed boy rightly points out that it’s hard to give some random civilian a swirly without being in the same bathroom with him. Extra points for that sharp tack!

Of course the ever vigilant amateur detective Coach Kaz sniffs out this plan to exact revenge on Robby before it can go any further than the logistics of how to get Robby’s head in a toilet. He levels stern steely blues at the boys and establishes a Hands Off Robby rule.

The real star of this strip is Coach Kaz’s hair. We’re all very familiar with Kaz’s coiffure, but it really pops in all three panels today. It’s stacked up nicely on top, it cascades down the back, it fans out nicely around his collar and is accented by precise, geometrically manicured sideburns. As Warren Zevon said of his famous werewolf, “his hair was perfect!”

The title is inspired by Perfect Tommy from Buckaroo Banzai. Kaz’s do isn’t exactly the same as Tommy’s but they share a certain essence.

We’re Sorry, Marty Is On Assignment At K-Mart During The Frost/Nixon Proceedings

Gee whillikers, Archie Andrews, MARTY RETURNS!!!!!!!!!! Gang, speaking of Archie, how long do you think Archie & the Gang would last as a Double Issue if Jughead Jones went to Milford Rehab Center for his hamburger addiction and was sentenced by the Rehab Center Commission to their retreat house out somewhere in the boonies whose property  borders the property line of the Milford Nature Area? I’m not expecting Jughead back anytime soon if he’s ordered a strict diet of milkweed salad and soy milk.

Or if Moose Mason got sent to the pen because he found out Reggie went all the way with Midge this time, in the back seat of Reggie’s T-Bird no less and got pummeled to death, let me repeat that, LITERALLY got pummeled to death. Yup, Reggie had fun, fun, fun ’til Moose took his one life away. Okay, Beach boys had better lyrics but I’m trying to make a point, c’mon.

Speaking of lyrics, if you’re wondering where Jimi Hendrix got some of his own tunesmithing

“Heeeeeeyyyyyyy, Moose

Where you goin’ with that gun in your hand

Heyyyyyyyyyyyy, Moose

Where you goin’ with that gun in your hand

 

I’m goin’ down to shoot Midge, my old lady

Y’know I caught her messin’ ’round with Reg again

etc. etc. etc.

 

And we might NEVER see Jughead or Moose again and, if so, the Archie Comix Collection is going to cause the Dow to plunge, not to mention severely cripple sales at these Comic Conventions.

BUT MARTY???????? Welcome him and The Prodigal Son back to the fold. Kill the fatted calf and reopen the Milford Lounge, doesn’t matter which one you do first, one will be a snake who becames a lamb while the other will be also be a snake but turn into a lizard. I’ll let you decide who is who but I’ve never known lizards to have a taste for ground round steaks.

And what a way for Marty to make his grandiose return to the fellowship BY BEING OUTSCOOPED by The Daily Planet!!!!!!!! Marty, how in the world could you have not known that Superman had to call an ambulance because he had a severe case of the runs due to an overdose of kryptonite? You didn’t notice the wagon flying by your house? Welcome back, Kotter, even if Jimmy Olson done bunked your ass.

And for that matter, aren’t you all at least a little shocked that the station manager at WDIG isn’t tearing a new butthole into Moon? (Smacks head) Shit, I forgot, Thorpiverse is trying to keep things on the level and maintain a Christian Family Atmosphere that is Gil Thorp. C’mon, gang, you remember when you were kids and you went to the Milford Lounge, they had a FAMILY ROOM. Well, they didn’t want you on a bar stool sitting next to Otis the Drunk slobbering all over himself. Foster Brooks not covering his mouth after downing a Heineken? Where’s your manners, Foster? THEREFORE punishing profanity trumps the nature of the beast of Journalism. Share that greasy cheeseburger with your kid sister while there’s an orgy next door. It doesn’t matter if Linda Lovelace and Raquel Welch are bare-chested and performing questionable acts with members of the opposite sex, as long as it’s on the other side of the Mason-Dixon Line, we’ll keep coming to Milford Lounge for supper.

Can’t you see the station manager in a Father Knows Best heart-to-heart talk with Marty?

“If cub reporter, Peter Brady, writes an expose on WW III, well, Marty (slap on the wrist) , do better next time and fight to get to Omar Bradley’s office sooner even if it means slipping a 20, 5 times his allowance, or stuffing firecrackers down his pants

but GODDAMMIT, Moon, watch your language when broadcasting the Mudlarks!!!!!!!!!!”

“Yes, Father.”

 

“General Custer, were you aware that 1,000,000 Indians are lying in ambush behind that hill?”

SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Hey, watch your language!!!!!!!!!! You’re on the air!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

There’s a rumor that Marty got outscooped by the Milford Star at Little Big Horn because he was interviewing Mimi Thorp on the possible rule change allowing 5 seconds in the lane.  Just a rumor, I understand.

 

 

Shout-out to Rebecca Arnold of Louisville, Kentucky, for her courage to overcome many obstacles while in a wheelchair. Gang, she gets out and about and today she was enrolling in a class to make her a better person. Good for her. Gang, she is proving that she is always learning. That is what life is all about. She has a firm grasp on that. Keep plugging away, Rebecca. You have my admiration and respect.

 

Wait a minute, don’t tell me. Richard Milhouse Nixon has a great-great-great grandson who is carrying the torch for his great-great-great-papaw. Robbin’ Robert is taking a cue from Tricky Dick on how to sabotage Gil and still stay above board. Why not? Nixon almost pulled it off.

So in the next few days, or weeks (oh God) , we  will experience a tell-all story on a scale measuring up to but perhaps not quite Watergate.

Go ahead, Robbin’ Robert, tell I’m-just-here-because-Marty’s-covering-after-Holiday-returns-at-Wal-Mart all about your break-ins in all the sections of town.Why stop at billboards? Confess that you broke into Gil’s office and stole his recorded conversations on Dial-a-Slut and you were going to blackmail him later on. Better yet, HANG ON to those tapes and build up the drama, citing Equipment Manager’s privilege the way Nixon cited Executive privilege when he refused to hand in his own tapes. For all we know, those tapes may be something other than Gil’s lewd comments to some grad student on the other end trying to pay the bills for her Masters in Psychology by feeding Gil’s ego.

“Woman, I’d really love to sink my wim wim into your Grand Canyon and climb onto your boobs and-YOUR CHEATIN’ HEEEEARRRRRRRRTTTT, WILL MAKE YOU WEARYYYYYYYYYYYY, YOUR CHEATIN’ HEARRRRRRRRRRTTTTT, WILL TELL ON YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU”

Why be satisfied with Gil’s office? Bust into Dr. Pearl’s office and find out what she said on the Astrology Line. One can imagine (“I’m a Capricorn. Are they up for Administrator of the Year? I can retire early and not have to put up with Gil calling me at 1:30 AM, talking about my boobs. Doesn’t Gil get enough from Mimi’s water balloons? Tell me, O Great Gazoo”) .

Hell, bust into The Bucket after hours. Just grab a sizeable stone and chip away at the lock on the door, then break in and get all the recipes and trade secrets. A typical reaction might include

“They obtain banana split ice cream from goats in the Kashmir region?”

“Bucket Cheeseburgers are made from exported kangaroo meat out of Northern Territory, Australia? Straight from Darwin to Milford via Easter Island?”

“Bell hops are supposed to be virgins and are docked an hour’s pay for every child out of wedlock?”

“Mimi rejected The Bucket owner’s advances when she was a teenager working as a bell hop and got transferred to the Large Pots and Corningware Department where her duties were scrubbing the large pots and pans with Beetle Bailey and Zero, out of retaliation from the owner? Couldn’t have been all bad, Mimi bought some plastic teeth from Milford Novelty and affectionately posed with Zero in a group photo along with Beetle before she went on to College.”

“The French fries are really llama’s entrails from the Atacama region of South America?”

“Crunchy chocolate frogs are made from real frog bones?” Whoopsy daisy, Robbin’
Robert, you’ve stepped into Monty Python territory. Better get out of the labyrinth before the Minotaur comes to call.

 

With help from an anonymous friend who supplied the ideas and kept eggin’ it on, the one about people hocking merchandise at Christmas parties, a taste of which I gave you last week,

A more realistic scenario would go like this

‘MOON!!!!!!!!!!! You get outscooped by the Daily Blab one more time over Little Lotta failing her urine test for heroin at school again and it’ll be the last time cuz you’ll be out of a job. And where’s that divorce report over Richie Rich and Little Dot? I understand she wanted Rich’s gold-plated swimming pool in the shape of a dot. Says she has a hunkering for anything round. Eats hamburgers with Jughead because hamburgers are not shaped like trapezoids or rhombuses or ovids but DOTS!!!!!!!! Even her toilet paper is dot-shaped. Wipes her ass all the time with it. Charmin is comin’ out with a new product line as a result.”

“Crap, I left it in the trunk.”

“Your job will be in the trunk if that happens again!!!!!!!!!!! Now here’s your chance to make me happy. Seems that Howry is amassing a chemical dump behind Milford Foundry and trying to put the finger on Gil. A source was in a tree watching Howry finger-paint with toxic chemicals ‘Gil was here’. C’mon, less chatter, more matter!!!!!!!!!!”

“On it, Chief.”

“And don’t call me Chief!!!!!!!!!!!”

Marty looks through his desk drawers for his steno pad, opening his big drawer first which is crammed with 3-Liter Diet Mudlar-K-Cola bottles from the ‘DIG Christmas party. Ditto the cotto salami block, half-eaten, slightly moldy. He searches the smaller drawer above the biggie. Nothing but a Tupperware flat bowl of cole slaw, some mac and cheese in a paper cereal bowl, and a few Slim Jims, Jalapeno and Sea Salt, bent to accommodate the shape of the drawer. Oh, and 1,354,578 Smarties. Marty prays some kid will never come snooping and open the drawer and get deluged with Smarties and drown or the Slim Jim snake springs up out of nowhere and attacks the kid. Wouldn’t that be a lawsuit for The Shark to handle.

He then turns to his middle drawer. What a smorgasbord. Between erasers and paper clips and his yearbook photo he clipped out of the Milford HS yearbook, held for posterity at the Milford Library Archives section because he lost his own, are 2-for-1 Lays Potato Chip mini-bags, ranging from Bar-B-Q to Sour Cream to Poplar-Tree-Behind-Gil’s-Office-Smoked, 124 10-packs of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, 3-day-old pasta salad with turnips and Amish potato salad, reduced fat. Marty is about to indulge in one of the Snickers Fire-Roasted Peanuts Candy Bar when he feels a wedgie in his butt.

He yanks out his steno pad while eating Kellogg’s Special K Prune Formula that fell out of Fibber McGee’s closet and they both consequently share, using separate bowls of course. BTW, Fibber pours 2% while Marty has a hunkering for Milford Dairies White Chocolate Reduced Flavor. Different strokes for different folks.

A shout-out goes to Lakena (la-KEEN-a) Kraft of Louisville, Kentucky. Lakena, you have an infectious smile and I can tell you have the joy of the Lord. I thank you for encouraging my warped sense of humor. You helped set the stage today with your enthusiasm and that’s the way you approach life and SHOULD approach life. Geting up early to face the day tells me you are taking the tiger by the tail. It’s how things get done. They need ya in Heaven.

 

And does ANYBODY notice the pile Gil is throwing the today’s Milford Star on? It could be scouting reports OR it could be MORE newspapers? What if I’m right? The Milford Star and the Milford Enquirer has been getting the lowdown on Gil’s coaching career, or for that matter, HIS LIFE, once a week or EVERY DAY?????? I’m curious what the headlines would read that he’s been so nonchalantly tossing to the wind.

“Thorp Cleared In Sexual Harassment Suit With Dr. Pearl!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil Spots A UFO While Taking A Potty Break In Outhouse At Mudlark Lake!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil Said He Bitch-Slapped Chitwood Only Once!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil And Basketball Referee Break It Off After Suspicions Are Aroused!!!!!!!!!!!!”\

“The Bucket Denies Half A Roach Was Found In Gil’s Bucket PB & J!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Then there’s the medical term Gil and the rest of Thorpiverse is trying to throw at us, hoping we’ll genuflect in awe. Having a medical doctor in the family, this writer is not easily swayed.

“So Gil, do you think Howry has dopamin stored in his garage?”

“No, he sold that at a yard sale last Saturday. I heard he was trying to get Filion high on epiniphrine. You snort it like a cocaine pipe. You need a week’s supply of Scope to wash out your mouth.”

“Yeah, but I heard he swallowed a bottle of Triavil so he could float and finish his Robby Report on the billboard.”

“If he did, his side effects were nasty. You wind up farting nitroglycerine all over the road.”

“I heard differently. Moon told me he was OD’ing from Underoos.”

“No way. That’s what he was wearing.”

 

Gang, comment away. I’m going to try to get Howry down. Maybe if I can harpoon his Underoos…

 

Dr. Pearl in a Parent-Teacher Conference

“I can proudly say that your Calvin is Harvard material. Why, here’s his board scores right here” as she hands the parents the Tupperware of celery and carrots w/ spinach dip to pore over that she retrieved out of the file cabinet.

 

At The Bucket, The Inspector and the owner have a war of words

“You’re going to have to take the bones out of your Bucket Crunchy Frog Shake.”

“If we took out the bones, it wouldn’t be crunchy now, would it?”

 

Long live Monty Python

Meet The Press

I doubt we’ll ever know who the member of the press is, this bearded reporter covering the billboard beat. He served his purpose by writing up the Robby Howry story and his editor printed it. So his work is done and Gil and Kaz have seen Robby’s delusions in black and white. See ya later, Bearded Reporter. Say hi to Marjie for us.

Kaz is angry! He wants Gil to fire back against this fractured media accounting of RobbyBobby’s split with Milford athletics. But Gil must remind hotheaded Kaz with the FREAK POINTY FINGER that, no, Gil can’t just fire back and set the record straight. Because….

We’ll hear more for Gil maybe, but where is Marty? The media of Milford is buzzing with something juicy which could chip away at Gil’s standing. C’mon Marty, you need to track down Robby and get him on your show. We know you’ll do a face plant eventually but you’ve got to strike now. We know there’s no way that happens because we need to talk about kettlehead.